#sorry y’all I have the brain scramblies

[millenniumringg]

I’m still working on rewriting Rivalry….. here are some doodles I did for fun as well as for a silly presentation party :3

#they mean the world to me #Rivalry #pirate au #millenniumringg doodles #yami bakura #ryou bakura #yami marik #marik ishtar #me working on 3 projects at the same time: I need to post this #NO what I NEED to do is finish ghostbusters #and then clean sneak #and THEN MAYBE I can think about when to post the rewrite JDJCNSJCNS #sorry y’all I have the brain scramblies

[flowhore]

𝔏𝔢𝔱'𝔰 𝔤𝔢𝔱 𝔦𝔱 𝔲𝔭

𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔱𝔴𝔬

𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 ˚ Eddie Munson x (f)reader

𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑒 ˚ you and your bestie (Joan) decide to have a sleepover at the trailer park, giving you the chance to finally meet the loud-mouthed metalhead from school.

𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 ˚ eighteen+ content, minors dni, drug use, praise kink if u squint, hair play, a pinch of dom Eddie, dry humping, fingering, f receiving oral.

𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡 ˚ 8.8k

𝑠𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑝𝑜 ˚ Let's get it up - ACDC 81'

𝑒𝑡𝑐 ˚ I plan on making a part 2 maybe even a 3 depending on if y’all like it. Sorry, this is so long but the brain rot for Eddie Munson is alive and well dahlings, Enjoy ♡.

⫘𝐼 𝑑𝑜𝑛’𝑡 𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑡/𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑠𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑜𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑚𝑦 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘. 𝐼𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑒𝑒 𝑝𝑙𝑠 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒/𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡 & 𝑟𝑒𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑔 𝑥𝑜𝑥𝑜.⫘

New to Hawkins, Your mom decided to pack up and move you and your little brother for a fresh start. Not being the impressionable new toy at school after a couple of weeks, all the cliques picked up that you weren’t joining them, and you never really fit into any social clubs anyways. You just went to school and wanted to be alone, not fake being happy with people you didn’t like. This didn’t help in the friends’ department but at least you had Joan.

She was the first person that helped you on your first day scrambling to find your homeroom. You two have been attached at the hip ever since. Everyone else at school seems very stuck up and into the social hierarchy of high school. Joan didn’t give a shit just as much as you, maybe that’s why you both got along so easily.

Joan invited you for a sleepover this Friday night at her trailer. You were excited to get to know her more, the two of you never really hung out after school before. So you obviously take her up on her offer, packing your sleepover essentials in your school bag for Friday.

The final bell rings, stinging your ears, releasing you from Ms.O'Donnell's class. The torture of hearing her go on and on about the essay due this Monday and god forbid you hear her yell "Munson!" again at that loud metal head that sits in the far right corner of the class.

You gather up your things from your desk and look up to see Ms.O'Donnell walking furiously up to "Munson" behind you. Feeling bad for him you turn and shoot him a sincere smile. You've been on O'Donnell's bad side before. Your first week trying to juggle all your classes coming in weeks late, and she wasn't one to care for any excuses.

He looks back at you for a second but his view gets blocked by Ms.O'Donnell finally making her way to him. You shove your books into your already stuffed bag and get outta there fast before that rage is turned on you too.

At your locker, putting your books away, you hear a slam into the locker next to you.

"Augh- I hate high school."

You look over to see Joan's eyes closed frustrated at the day she had.

"don't we all,"

You nudge her to try and cheer her up with a smile.

She returns a small smile back at you

"At least we get the whole night to make up for today"

you nod agreeing, excited to finally get out of the house for once.

Joan and you hop in her car, You stop at the gas station for Slurpees and head to her place.

You had never been to the trailer park before, Once you finally arrived the smell of cigarettes and weed-filled your lungs, Intriguing you, wondering if Joan was into weed or anything so you could try something.

The stress from school and the move had you ready to try anything to take the edge off. You both finished up your Slurpees outside listening to the radio blasting from her neighbour’s porch, soaking in the start of the sunset.

Her trailer was small but just enough for her and her mom who was working a night shift tonight. The place was filled with the cutest décor, yellows, oranges and browns cascaded everywhere. She plants you in front of the TV with the task of finding something to watch while she cooks up some mac n cheese for dinner. After watching some TV and eating Joan asks if you wanted to go for a smoke with her.

"I never smoked before.."

You sound more nervous than you mean to but still hoping she will offer you to try.

"c’mon it's okay if you don't want to smoke just come anyway, I wanted to tell you about the shit that happened today at school."

You didn't even realize how long you two were mindlessly watching Tv together, The sun was already down. The trailer park was pitch dark except for everyone's small porch lights and the occasional string lights around some. The lack of streetlights made the night sky illuminate above you. She brings you over to the bench placed closer to the entrance of the trailer park, a little bit of a walk away from her trailer.

"This is my favourite spot, sometimes you can hear heavy metal playing at night, I’ve also carved 70% of the things into this table."

It seemed like just an ordinary park table but the closer you looked you can see the history carved into the wood. You both sat on top of the table, Joan places a cigarette in her mouth, you were a little disappointed it wasn't weed but what can you do. She illuminated her face with the lighter in the darkness and lit her smoke. Inhaling and exhaling with a deep sigh, Like the cigarette eased her troubles.

You sit back listening to Joan rant about her day giving her the occasional nod and "mm" so she knows you're listening and there for her.

You get distracted by bright headlights illuminating the area, a loud van charging into the park and coming to an even louder halt at the trailer in front of you. This didn't faze Joan at all, like she was used to it, she just kept going on talking.

A shadow with big fluffy hair climbs out of the van and runs inside. You wondered how normal loud noises were out here for everyone since no one else really cared or noticed, in your neighbourhood someone would’ve called the cops just for the noise alone.

You turn to look up at the stars mesmerized by how bright they were out here. Protruding out of the deep darkness of the night sky. You can’t remember the last time you looked up and saw so many stars, you’re usually in your room, never really going out at night. Even when you did the stars never looked this good.

The faint scent of weed starts to creep around you both making you snap out of your star-gazing trance. Looking over at Joan you hope she���s noticed it too. Nope, busy carving into the table with her pocket knife.

Smelling around like a wild dog you get her attention making her giggle.

"I don't got any if that's what you’re looking for, I thought you didn’t smoke anyways y/n"

Joan says to you curiously shooting you a puzzled look.

"I don't but I wanted to try maybe the next sleepover we can?"

Joan smiles at you like she never expected this side of you but nods in agreement.

Sitting up to look around and you see that fluffy-haired shadow sitting on their porch swing smoking. The fuzzy hair was illuminated by the faint porch light and the pull of the joint in their mouth.

The culprit of the smell.

An idea pops into your head. You nudge Joan and flash your eyes to the figure while smirking so she can understand what you're thinking.

She smiles back and winks at you, inhaling deeply like she’s about to dive into water,

"HEY EDDIE, YOU ARE A GENTLEMAN RIGHT ?!"

Joan shouts at the figure making their head snap in our direction immediately.

His hand shot up to his forehead looking our way like it would help him see us any better out here in the pitch dark. He gets up from his seat and jumps off his porch running over to us like a madman, making you both giggle. Stopping right in front of you both his feet kicked dirt from stopping so abruptly, he cleared his throat with a little cough

"uh - Hello ladies, you called? "

His voice was like velvet and the smirk painted on his lips caught your attention.

Analyzing his features you realize it's the "Munson" from your class. Still wearing that hellfire shirt from earlier today.

"hey, I know you-" you start

"-Ms.O'Donnell's !" he cuts you off

He scratched his cheek looking at you, now analyzing your features too.

"Yeah, uh thanks for that beautiful smile today"

He sounds a little nervous but changes that by flashing you a wink.

Your cheeks start to heat up as you shoot him another smile.

Joan clears her throat loudly to snap you two out of your trance.

"uh we wondered if you had any weed to spare, It’s a special occasion…I'm taking her virginity tonight."

Joan explains to Eddie with a smirk knowing exactly how that sounded. His eyes widen and his face dropped a little looking at both of you a couple of times until he finally spoke again. Scratching his head he says,

"i-i- uh yeah I think I have some uh hold on.."

He bows to you both dramatically “m’ladies” then he franticly runs back into his trailer like his life depended on it.

You turn your head to look at Joan and she’s raising her brow at you.

"what was that hmm?"

she’s beaming at you hoping for any juicy details on you and Eddie.

Rolling your eyes at her, knowing all she wants to do is gossip.

"I just saw him getting shit from O'Donnell today and gave him a smile, I don't even know the guy c’mon"

"hm okaaaay" smiling at you like she doesn't believe a word you say.

“well he’s the leader of that hellfire club at school, but I’m sure you know that already.” She teases at you.

“didn’t know he was the ‘leader’ but yeah they play like board games right?”

“Some say they do sacrifices and bring back the dead.” She says in a haunting voice holding her hands out like a zombie as you both giggle.

she lets out a small exhale once you both stop giggling,

“Eddies a sweetheart though, we both grew up together but we don’t hang much at school, I bought some weed off of him here and there, always a gentleman.”

You were excited to get to know more about this loud gentleman of a drug dealer.

Eddie seems to take his time so you both lean back into the table together to get comfier as you start to tell her about your day after she asked.

You both get distracted mid-conversation by the stomping of Eddies feet as he jumps off his porch again, ignoring the steps completely. Running over to us again, out of breath, he presents a mighty joint to us with a sinister smile.

Joan and you scoot over giving him a spot between the two of you on the table. He plops down between you. The three of you lay down on the table heads looking up at the night sky again.

Your senses are filled with the smell of cologne, sweet cinnamon. You thought to yourself, did he really go put on cologne just to smoke weed with us? Even though the cologne was strong it couldn’t mask the cigarette smell on him. You also notice his hair looked a little less messy as he lay down next to you. His skin looked so soft under the glow of the moon, almost making you grow a desire to touch it. You look away as you sense his head turning to look at you so you didn’t get caught staring.

Eddie breaks the silent peace,

"so, what are we uh looking at here,"

Eddie says confused looking at the same star-plastered sky as us.

"the stars."

You respond a little too snappy at him, giving him a raised brow.

Causing him to turn and look at you, the corner of his lip curling up.

"my bad sweetheart."

Holding his hands up like he was being arrested.

Making you giggle and shake your head, returning your gaze up. The way he said sweetheart made your belly fill with butterflies, stunting you. You’ve never understood the term butterflies in your tummy until now.

Eddies body springs up, folding his legs together and sitting up between us. He waves the joint in circles around your face and starts his monologue, in an old-time accent, his very dramatic hands start waving about,

"Here thee lays the sacrificial virgin of the night, as the whispering stars gaze upon us on this monumental evening, the deflowering of this lost lamb will commence this very hour, A burning of flowers to seal the deal..."

You both burst out giggling at his on-the-spot theatrics. Springing up to join him sitting. You also wanted to join in on the fun too,

"I thee taketh this token bestowed upon me, with gratitude and honour, thank you, masters."

You exclaim trying to mimic eddies voice as you grab the sacred joint held out to you in Eddie’s palms with his head bowed down.

You all laugh together and once it dies down you can feel Joan's eyes piercing you with her suspicions of you and Eddie. You don’t blame her, she’s never seen you this goofy and blushing a mess before. You choose to ignore her daggering eyes as the nerves of smoking for the first time start to set in.

Your stomach sinks, and now that the time has come every bad thing you’ve ever heard about ‘weed’ and ‘bad trips’ racks your brain. You look up to see they’ve definitely both noticed your mood change.

"It’s honestly not that scary y/n, it'll feel weird at first but a good weird trust me."

Joan tries easing your anxiety, her words making you relax a bit.

"y/n, hm she has a name.."

Eddie sounds like his curiosity was fulfilled finally, mystery solved in his mind. As he rubs his chin. Your name sounded so pretty on his tongue. You shake your head, trying to wash out your thoughts of Eddie that just kept getting more intense.

"Listen, it's just like ripping off a bandage, I can start it for you if you want. Show you how? Hm?"

Eddie offers to try and take the pressure off of you.

"No !" Joan protests at Eddie with a wave of her hand and a stern look.

"It’s her special night it’s goodluck to start it off with the virgin!"

You wave to both of them to calm down, indicating to them that you’re ready, enough fussing.

Eddie scoots back immediately so the three of you are sitting in a triangle, legs crossed, knees touching each other. A perfect weed triangle held together by budging knees. You put the joint to your lips and look at Eddie holding the lighter.

The stench of weed instantly takes over your senses as you watch Eddie examine you, making sure you're ready. He pulls in close to you, right next to your ear. You feel his breath on your cheek, tickling your skin. Your skin instantly starts burning at how close he is to you.

"you just pull, inhale, hold it as long as you can, then exhale, it’s easy don’t worry sweetheart"

He whispers in your ear sending shivers down your spine, feeling like your stomach will surely burst from the butterflies now. You both lock eyes as he pulls away, his eyes so warm and inviting, making you feel safe. You can feel how warm your body is like you have a full-body blush. The effect he had on you by just whispering caught you off guard.

"ready?" he says in a low voice, slightly raising a brow at you.

You nod at him holding the joint to your lips again, still not breaking eye contact.

He flicks the lighter on illuminating his face, you can see the spots of hazel in his eyes, the texture of his fluffy hair, and how full his lips are. Your thoughts trail off and he’s pulling the lighter closer to you. Lighting the joint, you try to remember his steps...

Pull…

inhale...

"Good, good, hold it" he coaches you.

You feel the smoke start to burn in your chest. Like a ball of fire growing bigger every second.

"okay exhale!" Joan chimes in loudly

You slowly exhale trying not to do it too fast but you start coughing for your life as the smoke clears your throat of all its moisture. You are coughing for your life. Eddie places his hand on your back rubbing it to help you out. The initial contact was missed due to your hacking. But the back rub is helping, you think, or maybe it just feels really good and is distracting you from the pain of breathing right now. Eddie and Joan are dying laughing and Joan is clapping at you. Making the most noise, your surprised no one has come out to complain yet.

"CONGRATULATIONS YOU ARE NO LONGER PURE Y/N!!" Joan shouting at you like we are the only people in the world right now. Trying to give her your best smile as you are still trying to catch your breath. Finally, you stop coughing, still feeling the hard sting in your chest.

Passing the lit joint to Eddie, he grabs it with his left hand that’s free, the other still rubbing circles into your back. You can feel his touch getting more and more intense on your body as you settle into your high, body senses being heightened, and his big hand rubbing you felt so good.

You watch him smoke like a pro, making you feel like a chump for coughing your life out. But the sight of him smoking made something in you awaken, watching his lips crush into the joint and then blow smoke out had you hypnotized. He was mesmerizing to you. He then passes it to Joan, she grabbed it with a bow of her head as a thank you to him. Making him crack a smile at her.

Joan took her hit but coughed a little, you wanted to get back at her for laughing at you and say ‘HA YOU COUGHED TOO’ but Eddie’s hand stopped rubbing you, distracting you from your thought completely. Immediately missing contact with him.

He put both his hands on the table leaning back into them as he relaxed, let out a sigh and looked up at the stars again but with his new elevated state. His rings and hair are highlighted by the soft glow of the night sky, eyes glossy, cheeks flush.

Joan nudged your knee snapping you out of staring at Eddie, "here round 2" she smiles at you passing the joint back to you. She too joins in the star gazing with Eddie as you start your next hit.

This time you exhale before your chest starts to burn and you don’t hack a lung thankfully.

"there you go, good girl" Eddie hums toward you.

Feeling startled, you didn't realize he's been watching you. You look over to Joan, She’s making a face, eyes wide like she noticed the way he said that too.

You try passing the joint to Eddie but he’s staring up into the stars again. Maybe the weed is making you a little too confident, you stretch over and place it on his lips for him. He grabs your elbow to hold your hand in place as he pulls from the joint looking at you. The intensity in his eyes makes you feel weak. His face is beautifully lit by the joint as he inhales, Eyes pouring into yours.

Finally, he releases your arm from his grasp and you guide the joint over to Joan. But notice she's got her hand on her head watching the two of you interact. You feel your cheek heat up and realize the two of you have been very touchy, well mainly Eddie. But you just changed that with the new confidence gained from the joint.

She shakes her head and smiles, grabbing the joint from you, eyeing you down like a hawk. Now you’ll try your best to resist looking at Eddie, for the sake of Joan and making her any more uncomfortable.

You start playing with your fingers instead. Maybe mumbling around your fingers will help your eyes from looking to your left again. Oddly enough it’s working, you start spinning circles around your fingers, making your own optical illusion for your high state of mind to fixate on. Mesmerized, until you get a nudge from your right. Joan handed you the deviled lettuce yet again like you needed to be any more intoxicated than you already are.

"well… how is it virgin?" Joan asks excitement painted on her face, beaming at you.

"i-its very intense"

You try to explain but your tongue feels like jello making words coming out sound weird. You feel how heavy your eyes are getting too, feeling like sandbags. You are not even sure if it’s Eddie or the weed making your body flutter with butterflies and making your skin burn from blushing. You really can't make out the difference, maybe it's both.

Eddie chuckles to himself "makes you feel like Jello hm ?"

Like he read your mind completely, making you second guess if you spoke your thoughts out loud just now. Nodding in agreement to answer him because words aren’t working for you at the moment.

"it always makes me wanna listen to music and just be. Ya know?"

Joan expresses herself to both of you, letting her inner thoughts out.

"mm m-music." you mumble out trying to join in conversation with her.

Making them both chuckle at you trying to speak again, seems that speaking is getting harder each time. You go in for your third puff making it very small, you know you won’t be able to handle any more after this.

"scared of the flower now?"

Eddie raises a brow at you grinning as he watches you.

Smiling back at him "no.."

You say sarcastically looking away as you pass the joint to him again. His smile makes you more nervous, scared he’ll notice that just looking at him is affecting you in all aspects, physically and mentally right now. And you told yourself to not make Joan uncomfortable anymore.

You noticed the joint is almost finished, you pray Eddie and Joan finish it before it comes back to you again.

Eddie exhales his puff very painfully slow, making your eyes wander over to him, big mistake. He looks so beautiful, smoke pouring out of his lips, you can’t help but admire him as he nudges Joan and passes the joint to her, you watch his hands.

The rings glisten in the light reminding you of when they were rubbing your back, making you feel so good. The memory of him touching you consumed your mind, you started to feel that burn over your body again, like your whole body was blushing. Just watching him had you like this, like you were under a spell, maybe it’s just the weed…it can’t be, look at him, he’s the culprit…

"The sacred virgin joint is finished, Congratulations little lamb," Eddie says with a clap snapping you out of your daydream. You look over and he flashes you a little wink making a smile smear across your face.

You rest your hands to your sides to hold you up on the table like Eddie and Joan are and lean back trying to relax into your high and mimic them, looking up above you.

Looking at the stars you try to find patterns and constellations, feeling consumed by the overwhelming amount of stars. Eddie’s fingertips touch your left hand as he shifts his position, so lightly, that you chose not to react to it hoping he will get closer.

The smallest touch sends tiny sparks up your arm, you can feel yourself getting goosebumps. He inches closer a little bit and you start to play with each other fingertips, it felt good. Not looking at each other you flirt with your fingers. It sends more tickles up your arm like electricity, more intense as time goes on. Still not looking at him, you look to check on Joan and you see her falling asleep in an upright position making you laugh out loud.

Your laugh startled her awake. Feeling bad for how loud you were laughing you put your hand to your mouth to muffle yourself, breaking the finger flirt with Eddie. She tried to gather any consciousness she had after being awoken.

"Guys I'm fucking exhausted" she confesses to you both with sleepy hooded eyes

"y/n, you know where my trailer is right ?"

"you don’t want me to come?" you ask her, concerned about why she’s trying to leave without you.

"no no don’t worry, weed always does this to me, enjoy the stars come back when you get sleepy too, I’ll leave the door unlocked for you."

you nod at her, shooting her a little pout as she gets up to leave.

Suddenly you realize that means you will be alone with Eddie, making you very nervous. 

"well walk you there c’mon Eddie" you slap his leg lightly.

He gets pulled away from whatever trance he was in, and smirks looking at your hand and then at you. He looks up to see Joan up from the table,

"no ! Joan you leaving the party !?"

"Eddie, I’m legit a zombie right now, I need my bed."

He smiles at her and nods like he understands that feeling all too well.

He jumps off the table and stands in front of you holding his hand out for you to grab. You let him help you off the table, blushing from the small amount of contact with each other’s hands. The three of you start your journey to Joan’s trailer, you and Joan holding each other by your waists as you walk, Eddie waltzing around the two of you like a goof making you guys giggle.

“How come you two have never hung out with me at school? Am I too cool?”

Eddie teases you two.

“C’mon Eddie you know that place makes me want to hurl plus you have your little posse around you all the time.”

Joan seems a little taken aback by eddies question.

“The little posse is Hellfire club. You guys should join Hellfire, the game today was insane. You guys might be surprised how fun it is”

“Trouble finding members ?”

Joan teases Eddie back.

You watch them interact together like siblings, you can tell they’ve known each other long and talking seems so natural, the banter back and forth.

“AND WHAT ABOUT YOU DARLING?”

Eddie's voice raised stomping over to you, waking you from your inner thoughts.

“i- um I’m not sure how to even play.”

“well, I’m a wonderful teacher, anytime your free let me know.”

Eddie winks at you making you look away to smile. The thought of seeing Eddie alone makes your stomach twist, he makes you so nervous but you love the feeling.

Finally making it to the trailer Joan goes to hug Eddie goodbye, he pats her back and she whispers something to him that you can’t hear, you see lips crack a smile and he chuckles "anytime Joany" he flashes finger guns at her and she rolls her eyes. She comes to hug you, now whispering in your ear just like she did with Eddie.

"Good luck, I’ll keep the door unlocked for you… if you need it, love ya"

Sealing it off with a kiss on your already blushing cheek. She ran up her steps stopping at her door and blowing kisses at you two as you walked back to the table, shooting her kisses right back.

Once we were finally out of Joan’s line of sight and alone Eddie cleared his throat.

"so ah, how you liking O'Donnell?"

"you wanna talk about school ?..really?"

he scoffs at you, pressing his hand to his chest as you wounded him. His feet made a halting noise in the gravel. His dramatics made you feel bad.

“I’ve noticed she doesn’t care for any excuses” you nudge him playfully.

“Yeah, she’s definitely got it out for me.”

You guys make it to the table and you climb up to sit on the top, while he decides to stand in front of you.

"well, it’s been a very hard class for me, with so many distractions. She can’t really blame me" waving his hands around making crazy eyes at you.

"oh really?" you question playfully

"You actually seem to be the biggest distraction in that class, I thought your name was Munson the way I hear it every day."

His face beams at you, and a shit-eating grin smears across his face.

"You think about me every day? wow."

You roll your eyes at him. “please” you say low, almost a whisper.

His face softens as he steps closer to you, his body standing between your dangling legs. He pulls out a cigarette pack from his pocket, grabs a pen stuck into the side, placing it in his mouth as he puts the cigarette pack back in his pocket.

He locks eyes with you then down at your hand. He holds his palm for you to put your hand in, you flash him a questioning brow and place your hand in his. He raises his knee and places your hand on it, using his leg as a table, He starts to scribble some numbers on your hand.

The pen scrapping on your skin hard, the pen is almost out of ink. “sorry.” He whispers as he looks at your wincing face from the sharp scratches. He finishes and sticks the pen back in his pocket, he looks at his work and bends down, raising your hand to his lips, and looks up at you.

You’re watching his every move. He winks and presses his lips onto your knuckles. His lips felt so soft and gentle, sending waves throughout your body, you wanted those lips on yours. You wanted him all over you.

"so you won’t forget me"

You peek over to look at your hand, he wrote his number on you with a big smiley face and what seemed to be a heart, making you smile.

"I don’t think it’s possible to forget you Eddie."

You say to him in a shy low voice with a soft smile. You look up to him, Your eyes are melting into each other.

He pulls in closer to you, you feel his breath on your lips, you swear you can feel your heart beating out of your chest, you both close your eyes, soaking in this moment, breathing in each other. You feel his lips crush into yours passionately as he grabs the back of your neck, stroking your cheek with his thumb and pulls you in even more. So intense the kiss was making you weaker with every second, both of your lips begging for more. You let out a soft muffled moan as he starts to push his tongue into your mouth deepening the kiss even more twirling tongues together, feeling each other.

Every move he made was making you weaker and you were burning. You were on fire for him, your heart pacing like it ran a marathon. You needed his touch, you didn't want the kiss to end, Eddie pulls his lips away painfully slow, looking at you, searching every inch of your face as his other hand comes to hold your face too. Your face held in his palms as he just looked at you so endearing.

"beautiful."

He whispers as he watches you in awe under the moonlight.

You feel flustered at his words trying to hide your face now, all of a sudden feeling vulnerable.

He grabs your chin with his left hand and rubs his thumb so lightly on your swollen bottom lip, watching your lips like they were heaven, plants a painfully slow hard kiss on your lips and pulls away. Leaving your body begging for more, craving him in every way.

He twirls and starts to rub his arms like he’s all of a sudden cold in front of you.

"it’s uh, getting kind of chilly out here... you want to come inside ?"

You can tell he’s nervous about how you’ll react, scratching his cheek.

He looks at you and holds his hand out for yours to join, wiggling his fingers. You place your hand in his and he pulls you off the table hard and twirls you around. Makes you giggle and beam at how goofy and playful he is.

He takes your hand and places it on his cheek, his skin is as soft as you thought it would be, and he drops his head into your touch, closing his eyes like he’s in bliss. You bring your other hand up to rest on his shoulder, his hair brushing your skin so lightly. He places his hands around your waist and pulls you closer. Your face rests on his chest, his head using your head as a pillow. You both hold your embrace, swaying together for what feels like forever, in the best way it could. You feel a soft press of his lips on your forehead as you both decide it’s time to go inside. He guides you holding onto your shoulder, rubbing it to warm you up.

Eddie holds the door open, extending his arm out for you to walk in, you look around scanning the place. The smell of cigarettes and beer is almost overpowering, cans scattered over the counter, couch looking sunken in with blankets thrown all over it, looking enticingly comfy.

"Sorry for the mess, I-I wasn’t expecting any guests,"

he says nervously as he franticly tries to clean up.

"no-no it’s okay don’t worry," you reassure him, as you wander around, taking everything in.

You sit down on a stool close to where Eddie was across the kitchen, waiting for him to finish. The state of this trailer was the least of your worries, your body was still on fire just looking at him franticly cleaning random beer cans and throwing dishes in the sink.

He really had you under his spell. Thinking about his lips on yours again makes your heart leap, missing them already, even though he's only a few steps away. You've sat in the same class as him for almost a month now and you never even said hi to each other, now you kick yourself for not doing it sooner. This whole time.. he was right there.

You feel his hand pet your hair softly, as he steps in front of you.

"you okay?"

you look up at him into his worried eyes,

"We sat in the same room every day.."

He blushed at what you were trying to say to him,

"I would've come up to you but I wasn't sure if you hated me or not."

He shoots a smile and throws his hands in an 'oh well' manner

“Why would you think I hated you?”

Even the thought of you hating Eddie makes you cringe, he’s funny and sweet, maybe a little loud but he makes up for it with that beautiful smile of his.

He doesn’t respond, looking behind you, seemingly lost in thought of why he would suggest you hated him. You pout at him, giving him your best puppy dog eyes to get any response from him.

It snaps his attention back to you. Your face seemed to have an effect on him, he looked at your lip and ran his thumb across it and pulled in for what seemed to be a kiss but he bites your bottom lip that's sticking out. His teeth sank into your flushed lip stinging. You yelp not expecting it and it makes him laugh.

He pulls away, tugging his jacket off and tossing it on the couch. Getting comfy in his palace. With the jacket now off you can see some of his tattoos, piquing your interest, you wonder if there’s more under his shirt too.

"you uh like music?"

He asks as he walks towards the hallway assuming you will follow.

"um yeah doesn't everyone?" you respond as jump off your stool and follow his voice.

He walks into a room at the end of the hall, you scan the room, as Eddie is looking through tapes trying to find one for the two of you. It’s got to be his bedroom, band posters everywhere, cigarette buds, magazines, amps, and you look up to see a beautiful guitar sitting on his dresser against a mirror. Mesmerized you walk up to it. You always wanted to learn to play but it never happened, you still appreciated a beautiful guitar if you saw one regardless if you could play.

"wow she’s beautiful"

You say in awe touching the strings on his black and red guitar, making a small hum on the strings. You hear Eddies found a tape as music fills the room, still low enough to hear each other. You recognize the album, it was one of your favourites. A thought crossed your mind wondering if Eddie could read minds, the Jello feeling and now this. Felt like he knew you, but you didn’t know much about him, but you wanted to.

You feel Eddie's arms wrap around your waist pulling you back into him. His body is warm against your back, His big hands holding your waist send signals throughout your body. You feel his breath on your ear "yeah, you are" he kisses the top of your ear. Sending chills through you, closing your eyes in bliss.

Opening them to watch Eddie in the mirror on you. He pulls your hair to the side exposing your neck to him, his other hand rubbing your hip, he places soft delicate kisses up your neck. The sight of him on you drives you wild as you watch him shower you in kisses. Feeling his lips press into your skin makes your lips grow jealous, biting your lip trying to satisfy your growing hunger for him.

You whip yourself around so you’re facing him, blushing after you look up and see his shocked face in reaction to you pulling away from his neck kisses. His hands go right back to your hips as they belong there.

His brow flies up at you,

“don’t like my kisses baby?”

Him calling you baby stops all train of thought in your brain, it sounded so good to hear him call you that, you wanted to be his. He watches you as you process how amazing it would be to be his completely.

He pushes you back into the dresser, You feel the dresser digging into your back, keeping his eyes on you he lifts you up onto the dresser from your thighs so your sitting. You spread your legs so he can fit between you. He’s pressed right up to the dresser with you. You bring your hands up to rest on his neck, feeling the soaring heat off of his skin. His hands move from your hips and creep under your shirt, stopping at your waist, his warm hands resting on your skin, you can feel small licks of cold coming from his rings.

He’s watching your every move, drinking you in with his stare. You look up to him, you wanted to feel his hair between your fingers. You start to play with the beautiful fluffy hair resting in your hands. he looks at you with hunger in his eyes, his brows furrow a bit as you play with his hair more, wrapping your fingers into his hair, massaging him, he’s loving it. His eyes close in bliss as you keep playing, becoming puddy in your hands.

His head starts falling back a bit giving you full access to his neck, you can’t control your urge anymore. Watching his neck exposed made you yearn for him. You pull into him and start kissing his chin down to his neck he lets out soft exhales as you shower him in kisses just as he did to you. Your lips devour him, his breathing getting heavier making you burn to please him more. His hands dig into your soft skin as he tries to control himself.

Starting to use your tongue, making swirls on his neck with each kiss, you start playing with his hair more as you work your way up to his ear. Lightly take his earlobe between your teeth and press into his skin. He struggles to hold his moan, something in him switches instantly. He grabs your face pulling you off of him, looking at each other you can see his eyes are darker full of want and desire.

"you’re driving me insane y/n."

He breathes and he pushes a hard kiss into you, His tongue pushing into your mouth consuming you as you hold him in closer around his neck.

His hands move from your waist to your back and starts rubbing circles, just like he did outside and your head falls back in pure bliss, Stopping the intense kiss you both were in.

"I knew you liked that a little too much out there"

he says with a huge smile plastered on his face

"shhhh" you whisper at him grabbing his shirt and pulling his lips back into yours again, this time pushing your tongue into him, searching his mouth, feeling his moans vibrate through you.

You wrap your legs around him, craving any friction between your legs, you were aching to be touched. You push yourself forward so you can feel him, You feel his hard bulge pressing against your throbbing clit, begging to be touched just as much as he is. Desire burning through both of you.

He starts moving his hips into you, pressing himself onto where you need it most. The sensation is almost too much to bear as you whine and moan into his mouth as you both are still lost in each other’s mouths.

You try to move one of your arms off of his neck hoping he's too distracted by your kissing and start to head for his jeans to release his throbbing cock from its tight confinement. You feel his arm grab your wrist hard.

"not yet baby."

He coos, locking eyes with you, he moves your hand to his mouth where he kisses every knuckle and licks the tip of your thumb sending delicious signals to your clit. Making you think about his tongue on you.

You watch him with your mouth open just a little, giving him the idea to bring his hand to you, you hold his hand and return the favour kissing every knuckle, licking the tip of his thumb, but not stopping there, you open your mouth for him and he slides his thumb in and you close your mouth on it and suck.

The taste of his thumb washes over your tongue, his eyes burning into you as he watches, he goes to kiss your forehead and rest his head on your shoulder in defeat.

"fuck," he breathes against your skin.

Feeling how bad he wanted you sends you into a frenzy, you needed to please him, you needed his moans to fill your ears. You release his thumb from your mouth. Turning to his face on your shoulder, kissing his ear,

"please"

You beg a whisper in his ear as you tug at his belt.

A smirk stretches across his face as he turns to you.

"wait like the good girl you are" he whispers on your lips.

You pout again at him, this feels like torture you can feel how wet you are and he hasn’t even touched you there.

He nips at your bottom lip sticking out and starts kissing your chin working his way down your neck, sucking and pulling, definitely leaving his mark on you for tomorrow, you moan at the painful pleasure he’s giving you.

He tries to pull your shirt off of you to gain access to more, you help him out by taking it off, but cover yourself with your hands.

"you too." you protest at him with a smirk.

He sighs and obliges pulling his hellfire shirt off by grabbing the back of it and tossing it on the ground next to yours. You are mesmerized by his exposed body, so many places to kiss still, you fixate on his tattoos, moving your hands from yourself to touch him.

You softly press your hands onto his chest over his tattoo looking up at him in wonder, wanting to know about every mark on him. Moving your hands to his arms, you trace his tattoos with your fingers, slowly. Feeling the slightly raised skin on each mark. You wanted to press your lips into every inch of him. He grabs your hand softly bringing it to his mouth, planting little kisses inside your palm. You fixate on his lips as he puts your hand back down to rest beside you.

He backs up, admiring you, looking at your new exposed flesh now biting his lip in desire. He comes back after making you feel shy again, he grabs your hips pulling you closer to the edge of the dresser.

He starts exploring your chest, trailing kisses and his tongue along your burning skin. Letting out little moans like kissing you is pleasuring him, he wraps his arms around your back, snapping your bra off, you let it fall into the pile. he steps back again, soaking the vision of you in and you gush at the daggers his eyes are placing on you.

"so fucking beautiful my god."

His words travel through you adding fuel to the burning fire inside of you.

He grabs your face and kisses you hard, moving his hands down to your bottom. He lifts you off the dresser, still kissing you as he places you down on his bed, kicking off some books that were on the end. His bed was very soft, and you both sunk into it.

He looks at you after pulling away from your deep kiss, holding himself up by his elbow, his eyes intensely analyzing your face, you shoot him a warm smile. Making his face light up.

“hey, that smile is what got us into this mess.”

He says to you as he leans in to kiss your nose.

You stick your tongue at him playfully, he seems enticed by it and climbs on top of you.

His hands grab your wrists, planting a kiss on each. Then holds them above your head wrapped between his hand, and pressed into the bed.

You look at him as you can see the hunger in his eyes again, he presses a hard kiss into your lips, moving his way back to your chest, kissing your neck as you feel his free hand grab a hold of your aching breast, teasing and playing with your hardnipples between his fingertips.

His rings sent waves of chills every time they bushed against your sensitive nipples. Soon enough his warm lips were on them sucking and pulling, flicking his tongue around them making your hips buck from the pleasure, leaving his marks along your skin. You couldn’t help the moans that escaped from you even a little, you were all his right now.

He keeps moving down as he kisses you, lower, and lower, and he finally releases your wrists to give himself access to more of you. He’s at your jeans looking up at you to grant him access.

"Eddie please" you whisper at him, taking over his role and teasing your nipples yourself.

That’s all he needed, he starts undoing your jeans slipping them off of you. You watch as he soaks in every inch of you with his eyes. He goes back between your legs and starts kissing, exploring and worshiping your body all over.

Feeling him all over you is all you’ve wanted all night, his touch, his hunger for you, the pressure between your thighs is unbearable now. You can feel how soaked you are, embarrassed by it honestly but all Eddie has done is tease you.

He rests his head on your thigh as he lets his hands explore your legs, massaging your inner thighs, inching closer to where you need him, still teasing, he’s torturing you.

“Please baby” you whine, needing him so bad you don’t care how you sound.

“I know sweetheart.” he brushes over your lips making you hold your breath.

He pulls your panties to the side, he lets his fingertips explore you, up and down your slit, slowly dipping in between into the pool of wet.

"baby your so wet for me" you can tell he’s smiling wide, proud of his work. He slips your panties off of you.

He finds your clit and starts to circle between his fingers slowly making you yelp from the pleasure. Finally, he’s where you need him. His fingers speed up erratically, making your moans even louder as you feel the pressure between your thighs even heavier now.

Your eyes shoot down when you can feel his breath right on your skin and feel his big hair brushing on your thighs, he’s looking up at you watching him, he takes you into his mouth. Your eyes fall back in bliss and your back arches, he grabs your hips to keep you in place, where he wants you.

He swirls his tongue around your clit as you curse in pleasure. Overstimulated you grab a hold of his long fluffy hair in your hand, he moves his tongue down to lap up your arousal, sticking his tongue into your entrance, circling, teasing you.

He moves back up to your clit and you start to grind yourself into his mouth, so close to your release. You feel his hand move from your hip, his finger teasing circles around your entrance, slipping his finger in you. Sending shockwaves through your body. You can feel your walls throbbing around his finger as he fucks you, adding another finger, stretching you, and making your eyes roll back.

Between his beautiful tongue on your clit, his fingers fucking you deeper and deeper, his moans vibrating your skin, feeling the cold steel of his rings at your entrance. Your muscles tense up, devouring every feeling he’s giving you, your legs start to shake, overwhelmed by all your senses, you see stars and your vision is blurred.

“F-fuck Eddie” you moan as you come undone to his touch and cum all over his fingers. He moans as you release all your pleasure onto him. You close your eyes hard still throbbing from your release.

 You feel Eddie’s body on top of you. He’s on your lips, pushing his tongue into you, you can taste yourself on him. Making you smile, you open your eyes and hold his face in your palm, he looks at you,

“I like the way you moan my name baby” making your face heat up realizing you came moaning his name. He kisses your flushed cheeks chuckling at you being embarrassed.

“Hold on-“ he says to you as he runs out of the room.

Only a moment passes and he’s back with a towel for you, “here baby” you use the towel as he rumbles through his drawers.

“perfect” you hear him whisper to himself.

You look over to him holding up an extra hellfire shirt and smiling so big at you. He comes over to you and helps you slip into it. He looks you up and down “absolutely perfect” he beams at you kissing your forehead.

Suddenly feeling the aftermath of his work you are exhausted. Looking up at him with sleepy eyes, you fall into his chest making him chuckle, “okay baby let’s get you back to Joan…unless you wanted to stay here?”

“mm” is the only response you can give him as he just chuckles at your exhausted self.

He lifts you off the bed from your hip, opening the blanket up and placing you back down, covering you up, he leans down planting a soft long kiss on your lips, then turns off his lamp and turns the music down for you, quiet enough to fade asleep to.

You hear him walk out into the kitchen opening the fridge.

You open your heavy eyes to look around, the moonlight poking through his window illuminating his stack of magazines on the floor beside you. You see a naked woman on the cover and blush at the thought of Eddie using it to please himself.

Reminding you that you never got to taste him… It’s all you could think of, the hunger to please him restarts in you. You look over to the open bedroom door, the light from the kitchen pouring in.. enticing you…

𝑢𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑙 𝑛𝑒𝑥𝑡 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑑𝑎ℎ𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠..

#eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson fic #stranger things smut #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things x reader #eddie munson #joseph quinn #flowhore #flowhorewrites #stranger things #eddie munson fluff

[boltupbitches]

Today's the Day - Justin Herbert

Sequel to One Day at a Time

Justin knew his game was off. He could feel it. It wasn’t just the painful left-hand injury indicating so, but the way his brain couldn’t stop thinking about Alex who was back at his house in Irvine, likely watching the game along with his mother who insisted on staying with her since she was so close to her due date. 

In two weeks, Justin would finally meet his daughter, Layla Grace Herbert. Every day since finding out about Alex’s pregnancy has been an emotional rollercoaster for him. One filled with a lot of excitement, anticipation, and fear. The fear on some days was stronger than the other emotions. Not because he was afraid of losing his time for himself - no it was fear of messing up.

He was scared of failing. Scared of not being there for Alex or Layla. He was scared of Layla finding out how he treated her mother once upon a time. He was scared that Layla might find something innately wrong with him and not want him to hold her, feed her, or rock her to sleep.

He didn’t realize how irrational those fears were until Alex found him crying in the shower one morning after he was working out in the gym. He didn’t realize Alex had come to check up on him, having heard his whimpers when she peaked in the bathroom to ask him a question.

He had confessed then, while wrapped in a fluffy robe she handed him, what he felt.

He was surprised when Alex wrapped her arms around him, cradling him against her bump as he cried into her shoulder. He had relaxed against her, leaning into her warmth as he calmed down.

“Justin, the one thing you should know is that Layla is going to love you so much when she gets here. Just as you will love her the same. And about our past? That’s a conversation we’ll worry about years down the road when it gets here. Right now, let’s focus on getting through this birth, okay?” Alex smoothed her hand through his soaked strands, brushing them from his eyes.

Justin was thinking about those words while he watched the D-line scramble to target Prescott. 

Today’s game was going to shit. So much so that he couldn’t even bring himself to stay focused for a few moments. His hand was throbbing badly and his neck hurt from the tackle earlier in the game. Yet, he couldn’t concentrate for long because his mind kept wandering back to Alex. He wished he could call her and ask how she was at that moment. 

Lately, she was having false contractions and he hated leaving her alone. Once the doctor put her on bed rest a few days ago, Justin struggled with leaving the house and going to practice. His own mom had to step in and fly down to look after Alex since she had the vacation time to do so. 

“Bro.” Justin blinked for a moment. “Bro!” He felt someone shake his shoulder and he came to, blinking quickly and staring at Keenan. “Justin, I been calling your name. What’s up with you today, man?” The older man looked concerned.

Justin blinked again before shaking his head slightly, “Sorry.. It’s just that Alex is due soon and today, before I left, she was suffering with false contractions again. Her doctor advised that she stay on bed rest and call if there is no improvement. Which makes no fucking sense. I told her she needs to go to the ER so we can be sure it’s not the real thing, but she’s certain her OBGYN knows best..” He frowned.

Keenan smirked at that and nodded his head. “Listen, my wife was no different. Anytime I suggested anything or disagreed about something she’d gladly remind me who was carrying the baby and who the expert was between me and the doctor. Is she good though? Her due date is soon right? Y’all are expectin’ a little girl?”

Justin nodded, absentmindedly rubbing his arm as he thought about Alex giving birth without him there to support her. “Yeah. In the next two weeks. But we think it’ll happen sooner. My mom’s there with her right now at our house, and Alex’s mom is planning to fly down when the baby is born. Her work schedule doesn’t let her have off so often. With Alex moving down here with me during pre-season, it’s really just been the two of us.”

“Y’all on better terms now?” Keenan asked as he observed Justin’s expression.

Justin grimaced and looked down for a moment before looking back up with a slight squint under the sunlight. “We are. I mean, we’re friends and we’re co-parenting…”

“But you want your lady back?” Keenan finished for him.

“Yeah. I guess I never got the chance to ask her officially to be my girlfriend before I blew that to shit… Right now I don’t want to lovebomb her with that shit. So, I’m just satisfied that we’re living together, she’s letting me help her and provide for her, and that the baby is going to be healthy in a two-parent home even if we’re not together.” ‘Yet.’ He finished in his head. ‘Not yet, but we will be together again someday.’

“Take one day at a time, bro. That’s all you can do.” Keenan tapped him on the back. “Alex is a kickass girl. She sees what you’re doing. Keep at it and y’all be back to being loved up together in no time.”

Justin’s face turned a little red as he laughed a bit at that. “I hope so!”

They didn’t get the chance to continue on about it because the defense was coming off the field and it was their time to get out there and play.

—--

They had lost 20-17 at home.

The team’s morale was low. The locker room was tense. Justin was packing his stuff away after speaking to the media, his face grim and his head kept low to keep from making eye contact with anyone.

A couple of his teammates tapped his shoulder and back in solidarity as they passed by him. He appreciated it, but after today’s game, he just wanted to go home to Alex and take his mind off football for the next day or so until he was due back for training. 

Just as he had finished up packing the last of his stuff in his duffle bag, his phone started vibrating and he immediately dug it out of his pants pocket and hastily accepted the call when he saw his mom was the caller.

“Is Alex ok?” He asked immediately, not even greeting her.

He had stopped what he was doing and waited with bated breath for her answer.

“Hello, mom. Thanks for calling. I hope you’re well,” his mom started sarcastically, “to answer your question - yes Alex is fine. We’re at the hospital now and she’s being admitted. Get down here, but don’t speed!” His mom warned quickly, knowing he was going to cut her off and take off for the hospital.

“For real?” Justin asked in disbelief. “You guys are playing a joke on me are you?”

“Justin Patrick Herbert! No, I am not joking! The OBGYN is on the way to the hospital and Alex’s water broke at the house during the end of the game. We just got here a little bit ago.”

Justin hoisted his bag and sped past everyone, weaving between people as he hurried to get to his car, ignoring the calls from others. “Why didn’t you take an ambulance?”

“Justin.. She was fine. She didn’t want to go in wet clothes so she took a quick shower, got dressed and I drove her there. We got the diaper bag and all the necessities. Just get here.” His mom said, exasperated with her son’s hard-headedness.

“Right, right. I’m leaving now. Love you. See you soon.” He hung up as he tossed his duffle in his car and got in. He pulled up the address of the hospital on his phone and drove off immediately, not wasting any more time.

He just prayed he’d make it in time.

—---

And he did. 

Alex was preparing to push, having dilated enough, and was ready to get it over with as long as the epidural was lasting in her system. Holly Herbert was god sent. She held Alex’s hand and stuck by her, giving her tidbits of knowledge from her own time raising three kids.

Justin was escorted into the delivery room and almost cried at the sight of his mom dabbing a cold wash cloth on Alex’s head. He didn’t know what he’d do without either woman in his life.

Alex made eye contact with him and weakly smiled, the nerves showing on her face as she waved him over.

Justin approached her side quickly, careful to be out of the way of the nurse’s fretting around the room, preparing it for delivery.

His mom gave him a hug and a kiss on his cheek. “Stay with her. I’ll be waiting out in the waiting room.”

He nodded and smiled his thanks to her, his eyes going back to Alex who was staring up at him with tearful eyes. “Hey..” he greeted weakly.

“Hey.” She said back with a chuckle, “It’s almost time. She’s almost here.”

“I know. It’s.. it’s unbelievable.” Justin marveled at the reality of that statement. “Are you ok? Do you need anything?” He asked her as he took a seat.

“No,” she shook her head. “I’m good. All drugged up and ready to go.” She joked. 

“They give you the good stuff?” He teased.

“The best they had to offer. Can’t wait to see the bill for it all.” she joked back.

“Let me worry about that, Alex. You focus on you and Layla. I got the other stuff.” He promised, stroking her hand that was resting in his. “You got this.” 

“I know. You’re here so we’re ready to go now.” She smiled back.

Justin opened his mouth to say something, but the doctor had interrupted them to announce it was time.

Justin listened to instructions and stayed next to Alex’s side, keeping an eye on her expression and letting her squeeze the living hell on his non-injured hand as he watched her push with all her might. Even with the pain-numbing medicine she received, it was still a challenge.

Justin felt like he was to blame for that a bit. Layla was after all going to be a slightly above average-sized baby and Alex was not the tallest of women. 

Yet, she championed through it all and Justin watched in complete shock as Layla Herbert entered the world, screaming loudly for all to hear within the room.

He never experienced love at first sight before, but as a newfound father, the moment his eyes laid on his newborn daughter, his heart was a goner. She was everything to him and more.

He didn’t realize he was crying until the nurse tapped his arm and asked, “Would you like to cut the umbilical cord, dad?”

He nodded dumbly and approached his squirming daughter as the doctor instructed him where to snip the cord. 

He was worried for a brief moment that it would cause Layla pain, but the nurse saw his hesitation and reassured him. “She’s okay, dad. She’s just cold, wet, and angry we disturbed her nap with momma.” 

Justin nodded again, still not able to coherently form words, and snipped the umbilical cord.

He was certain, although still in shock, that he’d never forget this day as long as he lived.

—--------

Things had settled a bit. His phone was going insane with family, friends, teammates, and all sorts of other people congratulating him or wanting to talk.

His mom took his phone and shut it all down immediately, informing him that his publicist would be helping her field the questions at this time. He just needed to worry about his newborn daughter and Alex.

Justin's hands trembled as he reached out to gently cradle the back of Layla's head. She was wiggling slightly in Alex's arm, her tiny face scrunching in displeasure at the cool sensation of the room. Justin made a note to ask the nurse to turn the room temperature up a bit.

He looked up from Layla to the tired and tear-stained face of Alex, who looked up at him as well, a smile pulling at her face. They stared at one another in that moment, neither saying a word, but communicating just enough through their gaze.

"Thank you." Justin whispered. "Thank you so much, Alexandra... I.." He was at a loss for words, stopping to blink away the tears as he felt his heart swell at the sight of his newborn daughter in the arms of the love of his life. 'I love you.' He wanted to say in that moment, but he didn't want to ruin the moment if she didn't feel the same.

'Coward.' Hos conscious accused against him, 'You're nothing but a coward.'

"I love you." He blurts out in a rush, tears flowing now. "I love you so much and I love Layla. Thank you for bringing her into this world, Alexandra."

She stared back, equally teary-eyed as she smiled at him, the warmth in her eyes making him feel like he was enveloped in her love. It was hard to explain beyond the strong blooming sensation taking over his chest and spreading throughout him. “I love you too. So much, Justin Patrick Herbert. Even when you piss me off and don’t listen to me, I still love you whole-heartedly.” She hiccuped.

He gently leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her lips, careful to not squish a now-sleeping Layla. Alex returned his kiss eagerly, not wanting their moment to end.

Justin pulled back and leaned his forehead against her’s. “I never imagined this would happen to me. I never considered kids before you… before this. But I’m so glad it happened. Thank you, so much Alexandra.” He repeated his thanks. “I can’t believe we made her.” He marveled at the baby in how lover’s arms. “She’s perfect.”

“She is.” Alex agreed. “Although she’s very pushy like her daddy.” She teased him with a smirk. “I barely got my boob out of my gown when she was attempting to latch on and feed earlier.”

“Ah, yes. I can relate to that.” He joked. “I too am angry when hungry.”

She gently shoved his shoulder. “You’re so lame.”

“But I’m lame for you.” He countered. “Only for you.” He promised.

She knew what he had meant. Since the pregnancy discovery a few months back, Justin had been hypervigilant of Alex’s health and activities. He had hired her a nutritionist, and searched for the best OBGYNs in not only Eugene but also Los Angeles. He set up a nursery in his home in Eugene, helped set one up in her mom’s house where she was staying at the time, and had taken a few trips down during the off-season to Los Angeles with his brothers and dad to build a nursery in his home there.

He kept in contact with Alex regularly, going on walks with her, taking her grocery shopping, and even joining a pottery class on weekends with her.

She knew he was serious about rebuilding their relationship - this time the right way and this time more healthier than their situationship like the last time. 

She saw it and was thankful. As time went on they grew closer and closer. When preseason started, they agreed that it would be best if Alex stayed with him in Los Angeles as she got closer to her due date.

Justin remained steadfast in taking care of her and keeping up with his commitment. Each day, Alex found herself loving him more and more. Even when they disagreed and got angry. 

Justin stopped dating months ago and continued to make it clear that he wanted a proper relationship with Alex. One they could build long-term and show their daughter.

Looking at it all now, he knew he was one step closer to that goal. Work still needed to be done, but in that moment of tired, euphoric bliss, he could only thank God for Alex’s healthy pregnancy and Layla’s health. The game today? The issues at the facility? What critics had to say? None of that mattered to him right now.

It could wait for another day. Today’s the day he finally got his family.

#justin herbert fanfiction #justin herbert one shot #justin herbert imagines #justin herbert imagine #justin herbert fanfic

[rodolfoparras]

I was reading over some of your piss stuff and the one where you said “if you want to find out if you have a piss kink, read dry humping + piss” caught my eye. Now I know I have a piss kink but it got thinking a little bit.

So imagine something happens with on a mission with you and price, and y’all somehow end up knocked out but alive. So when you wake up, you’re tied down to a chair, blindfolded, and you feel a weight on top of you. After who knows how long, you hear prices voice and he starts moving, accidentally grinding onto your cock. He’s tied up so his legs are on the chair but his arms are stuck above his head. (Could they probably get out since they are in the military, yes but horny is more important than the facts rn)

Now that can already go somewhere, but imagine they’re stuck there for awhile. I mean last time price went piss was probably earlier that day, so now all of that’s coming back to him. So now price, who desperately needs to piss and can’t hold still, is stuck on top of his sergeant, who’s overstimulated from price’s constant movement on his cock.

The horniness in me is taking over and I had to share with the class.

-🤠

Can I say how happy I am that we’re being open about our piss kink it’s literally such a common kink it’s just that it’s considered so shameful no one dares to be open about it

Now my absolute favorite thing is when piss kinks comes with humiliation, fat tears soaking through the blindfold price is wearing, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as a prominent stream shows up on the jeans he’s wearing all while he’s muttering the words “im sorry I’m sorry fuck I’m so sorry” and you’re just like “it’s okay don’t worry about it”

“Think I’m done” he says after he’s finished, you cant even see his face but you can hear how embarrassed he is and you try your best to comfort him “hey it’s okay really” you say to him trying to comfort him but the issue isn’t that he’s covered both you and him in piss but rather the boner he’s sporting

And for a moment it’s completely silent between the two of you while you try to scramble your brain for something to say but as you do so you feel his boner and you freeze up, he takes it a bad sign, already ready to apologize “Fuck I’m sorry, -“ but you don’t respond instead you grind up into him and he’s like wh-what are you doing and you’re like what do you think I’m doing fuck help me out here and you continue to grind up against each other til you cum pants soaked completely and he’s whining in both overstimulation and embarrassment and you’re like hey hey easy easy just relax for me yeah?

#alec answers #sorry for not replying yesterday sugar I wanted to but then got a headache and I was like I’ll wait til TOMORORW #🤠 anon

[soufcakmistress]

Unveil

Part IV

A/N: I know yall wanna fight me LOL I couldn’t figure this next part out to save my life. But my brain is working a little better now, and I wanted to get this out. Not me posting two fics two days in a row! Don’t get comfortable because this is out of the norm LOL stay tuned boos!

Pairing: Erik Stevens x Thick Black Reader

Snoring peacefully in the king bed of the guest house with an open window, the loud buzz of a lawnmower startled you almost to death. Erik’s baritone carried over to the guesthouse, guiding the landscaper while giving him notes. Rolling your eyes internally at the thought of Erik, you gather up the courage to roll over and pick up the burner Erik gave you. It was time to let your best friend know what’s up. Knowing her cell number by heart, your fingers tremble as you input the digits. It only rings once.

“Y/N???? Y/N? Sis is that you??” Denitra sounded like she had been waiting by the phone the whole time for a call from a number she wouldn’t even recognize. You immediately burst into tears. Everything from the past is flooding back. You and Nitra busting ass for midterms. You supporting her when she crossed and wrangling all the balloons at her probate. Y’all squealing over the gigantic engagement ring Eddie proposed to you with. The last embrace you guys ever had before you left behind all that you ever knew.

“Hi baby. I’m sorry. It’s just so good to hear your voice. I’m okay! I’m okay.”

Denitra shut her office door closed, and paced back and forth nervously. “Where are you, Y/N? Are you alone??? Do you still have money? Has he tried to still—“

You give a good belly laugh with your face still wet with tears because that’s how your best friend is. Making sure A and B equal C. “Nitra, take a breath sis. I promise I’m okay. I’m not gonna tell you where I am, so do not ask. Just know that I’m being taken care of properly.”

Nitra looked at her phone like it had three heads. “Bitch, who is taking care of you???” More belly laughs from you. Y’all chat it up for the next 30 minutes. You’re very careful about revealing any info to your best friend. If there’s anything you know about your ex fiancé, it’s that he will stop at nothing for information. Giving her plausible deniability could save Nitra from his wrath. Or push him further into mania. You had to believe in your heart of hearts she would be safe if she didn’t know anything, for your own sanity.

~

“Miss Y/N, I have prepared breakfast for the house in the dining room. I would love for you to join us!” Leah, Erik’s middle aged housekeeper, spoke over the intercom to make you aware. Maybe you and her could spend some time alone today.

“Yes ma’am, I’ll be there!” You finish up with your best friend, shower and cross the pool to the house. The house smells absolutely amazing— a spread was made of scrambled eggs with cheese, turkey sausage, and homemade biscuits. “Leah, this is awesome! Thank you so much!!”

Leah was definitely one of those Black women who could throw down in the kitchen and cherished when people enjoyed her food. She leaned back on the island and sipped her coffee with pride. It was only you and Leah downstairs, but you did happen to peep some luggage by the front door. Who’s leaving? Black Barbie? Or Black Ken?

Holding no qualms about your outer appearance, you dug in. You were starving, and Leah put a hurting on them biscuits. Light steps are heard coming from the upper floor and Monica appeared looking completely ethereal. “Good morning everyone!!”

It was still a bit early for her to be elongating her vowels but you greeted her accordingly. Leah didn’t speak, just peeping over her coffee mug. “I unfortunately have a day trip to Cali—Christopher John Rogers’ publicist has been incessant about me modeling their new spring collection. I’ll be back tomorrow evening though! You ladies have a splendid time!!” Monica split a biscuit in half, gave you an unexpected bear hug, and traipsed out the door.

“Thank God. I’ll at least have one person to talk to with more than half a brain cell.” Leah washed out her mug, and you snickered when she said that. It was petty. But, oh well. Leah winked at you, when Erik decided to show up.

“Ladies. Good morning.” He typed away at his phone while he made himself some coffee. Leah responded. But not you. What could you say to him now that you seen what that dick was hitting for? It’s evident he caught you looking last night and he wanted you to look….right? Not stopping to sit down at the table with you, he picked up a biscuit and headed back upstairs. From the bannister on the upper floor, Erik could look into the kitchen from above. You lost the fight not to gaze at him. Looking up, he was already staring at you before going into his office and shutting the door. Why is this man so intense…

Leah began clearing the table since you were done eating and cut her eyes at you. Something was up between you two, but she didn’t push. Erik told her everything about your situation and how you both came to meet. Leah was trustworthy and lived a lot of life before working full time with Erik. She empathized with you wholly, seeing that you were lost in the world. She was proud of Erik for doing the right thing—the boy was certain he was damned to hell. This was proof he wasn’t.

“I’ll wash if you dry.” You offered. Leah accepted happily, nice to have someone who didn’t act like she was a personal maid. You noticed that Leah didn’t say much. She was always watching though.

“Leah, what do you have planned for today?” Putting your hand on your hip, you turn to her with a smirk on your lips.

“Well, I do need to coordinate with the pool boy, wash a couple loads, vacuum the guest rooms, start on lunch—“

“Ehhhh, that can wait. Let’s go shopping. I gotta get off this property or I’m gonna go postal. Erik’s a big boy, he’ll be all right for a few hours. I’ll go tell Caleb to start the car.” You leave to let the driver know, not even allowing her to respond. Fun was majorly needed.

Meeting Leah at the front door, you pile in the expedition to head to the nearest mall. Scratching your veve tattoo on your side, your thumb scrolls through the mall directory when you get an iMessage from an unknown number.

“Going somewhere?”

Who else would it be but him? It was purposeful to leave without telling him. Erik had you twisted all the way up inside…….it wasn’t totally smart but this gave you some semblance of control back into the dynamic. Being a helpless damsel in distress wasn’t a good look on you and you didn’t want it to start now….even if you really did need all the support you could get. You weren’t gonna pass this moment of brief freedom up. “Yes I need things. And I need some fresh air.”

“This ain’t no damn vacation. Get what you need, and have Caleb return you ladies back to the property.”

Oh? He is feeling very jazzy this afternoon. You leave him on read, and hop out with Leah. She’s very patient and a very good listener. She can sense the wheels turning in your head, sorting what to do and what’s already been done.

The two of you scoured through Old Navy, Five Below, Rainbow, Bath and Body Works, Aldo, and left a whirlwind in Macy’s. Caleb fought his frustration watching you traipse from store to store. Retail therapy was a balm to your open wounds. The cares of your world fell away trying on different jeans and comfortable jumpsuits while you reconciled everything. A blessing also came in the form of companionship with Leah.

Widowed at 45, the Nashville native was blessed to have two pensions and an empty nest. She let you in on how her and Erik met and how he was like a son to her now more than anything. The two of you conversed over piping hot Japanese teriyaki in the food court surrounded by department store bags. “He reminded me of my son Travis. His father died when he was so young, and it was an uphill battle to wrangle him back from the dark side. Erik has his demons and yet he still has a code. I could never deny that boy.”

You listened intently and soaked it in. Demons huh? You figured he had access and resources being an alleged government contractor but it appears his baggage is a bit more nuanced. What had Erik seen and done? Why go out of his way to help a stranger? You had more questions than answers but were still somehow pleased with the new info.

Caleb had been staring a hole in your head for the last half hour. You put him out of his misery and he comes to gather your bags. Leah squeezed your arm and y’all headed to the car. The mean grinch awaits you both and had lashings for you for sure.

~

“Split up. Go. Ven allá!” Eddie directed his goons to search the town square in the sleepy little town of Randolph, Vermont. Two guys took the north end, while three guys took the south end. They questioned jewelers, shoe repairmen, butchers, ski shop owners, hotel clerks, etc. Nothing revealed any inkling of you. Eddie himself called every single roach motel in the surrounding area and nobody by the name of Y/N Nazario. He even asked if you went by your maiden name, and still nothing. “Something’s not right.”

Him and his goons reconvened at a late night diner. They couldn’t look more out of place—Cuban and Haitian American men with no sense of humor being served by lily white folks whose most lively occurrence were a cat getting stuck in a tree. “Boss, could she have been tipped off?”

Eddie ran through the scenario again and again in his mind. There should have been no time that you would have known he was coming. “Are you guys sure that she didn’t see Arturo at the train station? If she saw his fuckin face, she would have been spooked.”

Eddie’s lieutenant, Carmen insisted personally that he didn’t. Arturo wouldn’t be able to eat without a feeding tube for a while to make sure of that. “Let’s go. We need to pay a visit.”

~

Back at the ranch, you and Leah have situated all of your new purchases in the closet and bathroom in the guest house. No more living out of a purse. To end the night, you guys head back to the main house while Leah popped the cork on a Merlot that was to die for while some smooth jazz played on Erik’s surround sound.

He comes from his garage after playing around with a transmission for an old school Chevelle he’s been restoring, to see you two cozied up. At least you found someone to confide in. “Thelma and Louise have returned I see.” You both cackle and pour him a glass.

“Better watch your wallet!” You bust out laughing, clearly tipsy.

“Wel I’m glad you had fun but can you please let me know that you’ve left the house before you just duck off like that? We’re trying to keep you safe remember? I can’t do that if I don’t know where you are.” Erik gives the warning tenderly but with some steel as well. Leah says nothing and sips more of her wine, secretly amused at his overprotective nature. She knows he means well.

You drain your glass and go to pour another one. “Yes Dad. I’ll always check in before curfew.” Red wine always does this to you.

“Well kids, I’m going to lay down for the night. I’ll see you both bright and early for breakfast.” Leah rinsed her glass out and placed it in the sink and kissed Erik on his cheek. “Good night, son.”

“Good night, Leah.” His dimples make another appearance and your stomach does a hurdle. She squeezes your shoulder and heads upstairs. You take your glass and the whole bottle to the couch, and you feel his eyes on your back the whole time. How was this going to work?

The wine fills your mouth adding to your buzz and your eyes close as you bob your head to the jazz. You feel the couch dip as Erik sits right next to you. “I see someone ran it up today.”

“I deserve it, don’t I? With all things considered..”

His eyebrow raised and he inhaled more of the Merlot. “No complaints from me, Y/N. Just pointing out the obvious. I see you and Leah have gotten close. She’s an outstanding woman.”

“Yes she really is. So sweet and so wise. I enjoy her company. Reminds me of my mom..” Damn. How long has it been since you’ve spoken with her?

“Have you used the burner phone yet? I hope you have, I told you it can’t be traced.”

“Yes, I reached out to my best friend. She’s sworn to secrecy. Not my parents though. One word from me and Eddie would absolutely know something right away, they can’t hold water.”

Erik drained his Merlot and poured the rest of the bottle into his glass. “Well at least you know who to trust with certain information. Can I ask you a question?”

Your heart fell in your butt when he said that. Oh God. You weren’t ready to reveal that you been daydreaming about his bare body all day. “Shoot.”

“Your tattoo. It’s a Haitian veve with a Kongo cosmogram around it. Does it mean something?” Erik was fishing for info for sure. How could someone so sweet and tender as you get caught up in such an evil force as Mr. Nazario?

“We’re gonna need more wine, if we’re going to get into that.” Erik immediately got up and got another bottle of Merlot and a corkscrew and poured generously for the both of you.

Words start pouring out of you. The whirlwind of you and Eddie’s romance and how intense and handsome he was had you under a spell. It didn’t take much for him to convince you to become his queen of his empire. Erik listened intently and engaged with you. It’s no wonder why Monica is head over heels. He’s fine as fuck, incredibly sharp and got bank. But he’s holding something back.

Him and Eddie weren’t that different in that regard you found. Erik revealed very little about himself yet was able to extract information from you with ease. Too easily, for that matter. Eventually, you were all talked out, and fell asleep on the couch. Erik was comfortable himself and didn’t want to move. He pulled the throw blanket over the both of you, whispered “sweet dreams” in your ear, and dozed off himself.

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#soufcakmistress #erik killmonger #erik killmonger smut #killmonger fanfiction #killmonger smut #erik stevens #killmonger x reader #black panther #wakanda forever

[currentfications]

Happy 2024 (is that even the correct wording?) folks, thank you all for being really cool peeps on this corner of the internet x

To all 227 of you (damn that’s plenty of y’all), thank you for putting up with my oddity (˶‾᷄ ⁻̫ ‾᷅˵) and sorry for my complete incompetence in updating fics- to my defence (there’s no defence I’m just raw dogging AuDHD unmedicated lazy)

Special thanks to @lil-elliesgf and @bada-lee-ily (@wiselight I seemed to struggle with tagging you a lot, I’m v sorry if I missed tagging you a few times!!) for being w ocean eyes since the v beginning, and to all of you who are reading along (((o(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)o)))

I honestly didn’t expect this many of you when I scrambled back into writing(and good god am I rusty at it- my wordings??? is so strange sometimes???), but thanks for tuning in x

More shout outs to…

@urlovebot and @woniverse-writes for being the ogs that i found in the fandom, the little prompts and moth to a flame is *chefs kiss* perfection ◉‿◉

@badasgirlfriend for their smaus- tbh I was SHOOKETH the first time I saw your fic, my pea brain cannot imagine how much effort must’ve been put into them??!? Everytime u post? A blessing <3

Same goes to @nimxie and @venuszn for dropping the loveliest fics (/ω＼) blessed fr

@dallaji, @sun-nyy , and @sydnerss y’all can have my first born’s left kidney x

@princhii best wishes to u and pk in 2024 ◉‿◉

These so many more of y’all I wanna tag??? But your layouts (don’t get me wrong y’all run beautiful blogs but I am old and weary and unable to keep up) are so different I’m struggling Σ（ﾟдﾟlll）

But anyhoo thanks for a great year, let’s go do it all over again next year ☆*:.｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆

#spoon speaks #happy 2024

[drabbles-mc]

Idiots

Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Request by @garbinge​: okay so i found this prompt:  punching the guy who broke your best friend’s heart.and you know I love me some friends to lovers. I was originally thinking eddie munson BUT want you to go with whichever comfort character of yours speaks to you for the prompt

Warnings: language, light angst, little bit of violence (we all read the prompt like we know what we’re getting into here lmao)

Word Count: 5.5k

A/N: It’s Eddie Munson Hours out here today apparently! I worked on a handful of different things today but this one really just spoke to me. Hope y’all enjoy! It was fun writing for Eddie again. (also for anyone new here: we don’t beta in this house. mistakes add flavor.)

Stranger Things Taglist: @winchestershiresauce​​ @thatpunkmaximoff​​ @xbunnysbrainx​​ @bigcreatorwombatdreamer​​ (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

“I just, I don’t know,” you shook your head as the two of you walked across the school parking lot towards his van, “I feel like it’s something bad.”

Eddie shook his head at you, twirling his keys around his finger. “You always think it’s something bad.”

You rolled your eyes at him, but it got a weak smile out of you. “And you don’t?”

He spun so that he was facing you head-on, walking backwards as he spoke, “But! Bad things do happen to me all the time. So I get to think that.”

Your weak smile turned into a laugh as you shook your head at him. “Turn around and watch where you’re walking before something bad actually does happen to you.”

He flashed you a cheesy grin but did as you said. Falling back into stride with you, he threw his arm around your shoulders, keys still dangerously close to flying out of his other hand. It was amazing to you that they hadn’t managed to fall down a sewer grate or get tossed into an abyss somewhere with how often he fidgeted with them when the two of you would walk anywhere. In the moment, though, it did manage to serve as a distraction for both of you. Focusing on him and his antics gave your brain a brief reprieve from the racing thoughts and looming dread you’d been feeling since you spoke to your boyfriend earlier.

Sitting down in the passenger seat, you braced yourself for the music that was going to start blaring from the speakers the second that Eddie put the key in the ignition. You at least had started remembering to prepare yourself for it, since Eddie never remembered to turn the volume down before turning the car off. Each time you’d still flinch a little bit, and each time he would apologize. It was a ridiculous ritual that you were fairly certain you two would participate in for the rest of your lives.

Sure enough, the second he turned the key, the whole van was practically vibrating from the intensity of the music. You cringed for a moment before shaking your head and laughing. Eddie instantly scrambled, spinning the volume knob more dramatically than necessary.

“Sorry.”

You continued to laugh as you tossed your feet up on the dashboard. “It’s fine, Eddie.” Neither of you said anything as he pulled out of the school parking lot and onto the road. In no universe was your house on his way home, but a few times a week Eddie always insisted on driving you home anyway. You weren’t going to turn away the opportunity to not have to ride the bus, but you did feel a little bad sometimes because it was so out of his way.

Eddie pretended that the insistence on driving you home was because he had nothing better to do on days he didn’t have DnD or band practice, but deep down he knew better. Driving halfway across town and then all the way back again to get to his home had very little to do with boredom, or even selfless kindness. He wasn’t ready to get into all of those feelings with himself yet, though, let alone try to broach the topic with you. So, instead, every time you asked why he bothered to bring you, he’d always come up with some other one-liner joke, or a pseudo-dramatic monologue about keeping you safe from the horrors of the middle schoolers who rode your bus. You bought it every time, and he was infinitely thankful for that.

“Eddie?”

Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts. He shook his head at himself before turning to look at you for a second. “Yea?”

“You hear me?”

“Can’t lie to you,” he laughed, hoping it sounded less nervous to you than it sounded to him, “brain left the building for a second there.” Your response of quiet laughter was comforting. Clearing his throat, he asked, “What’d you say?”

You felt silly repeating the question, sillier than you had felt asking it in the first place, “You don’t think he’s gonna…you know…” you didn’t want to say it out loud, afraid that you would jinx yourself.

Eddie knew what you meant without you having to spell it out anyway. His grip on the steering wheel tightened, not that he meant for it to. He shook his head, trying to keep his tone and overall response as level as possible. “There’s no way he’s that much of an idiot.”

You barked out a laugh—it was probably one of the nicest things that Eddie had said about your boyfriend. You did give Eddie credit where it was due, though. Any comments he had he usually kept to himself, or at least did you the favor of not saying them in front of your boyfriend. He had no use for the guy but you liked him so he did his best to keep himself in check. He also was constantly trying to make sure that the real reason for his dislike never broke the surface. You thinking that he had no use for your boyfriend because he was annoying and occasionally insufferable (which was true, in his humble opinion), was much better than you knowing that his distaste was more born from jealousy than anything else.

“Thrilling endorsement coming from you. I feel like this might be the only time you’ve ever said that he’s not an idiot.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he tried to unclench his hands from around the steering wheel. “The only reason I don’t think he’s a total idiot is because he was smart enough to date you.” He shot you a quick glance before returning his gaze to the road. “You are that guy’s only redeeming quality.”

You laughed and shook your head. “Eddie…”

“I’m done,” he held his hands up in momentary surrender before placing them on the steering wheel again, “Promise.”

“Liar,” you laughed.

He smiled, “Just this once.”

Eddie’s commentary did put you at ease a little bit, the way that it usually did. You couldn’t pretend that the fear of your boyfriend breaking up with you wasn’t still something that was lingering in the back of your mind, but at least it wasn’t taking over your entire brain like it had been for most of the afternoon. Instead, you got into a battle of switching the radio stations with Eddie, doing it solely to annoy him and make yourself laugh. You honestly didn’t mind his taste in music all that much, but it was very amusing to watch him huff and try to swat your hand away when you attempted to put the radio on a pop station.

He pulled into your driveway, putting the van in park but not cutting the ignition. Every now and then he would come inside, but you knew that he wasn’t going to do that today. Even if that had been his original plan, once you told him that your boyfriend was going to be coming over a little later on to talk to you about whatever it was he wanted to talk about, Eddie knew that he wouldn’t be setting foot outside the van onto your parents’ property.

“You’ll be fine,” he reassured you without you having to ask for the extra boost of confidence.

You smiled through the knot once again growing in the pit of your stomach. “Thanks, Eddie,” you paused for a beat, “but if I’m not—”

“You will be.”

“But if he—”

“Then you can call me, and I’ll take care of him.”

It got you to chuckle, his little mafia boss impression. There was very little that you believed Eddie couldn’t do, but fighting your boyfriend in the middle of a parking lot somewhere or in the hallway at school was definitely something you couldn’t quite picture. Still, though, you appreciated the sentiment.

“What would I do without you?” you joked. Eddie was halfway to coming up with a witty response, but you didn’t give him the opportunity. Hopping out of the van, you shut the door and leaned against the window. “Thanks for the ride. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

He nodded, trying not to look disappointed, “See you tomorrow.”

He stayed parked in the driveway until you were safely inside the house. Throwing the van in reverse, he backed out of your driveway and got back onto the road. Reaching forward, he turned the volume up on the radio and peeled off down the street, trying harder than he cared to admit to not think about you and your boyfriend.

You had been anxiously pacing the floor of your bedroom. You lost track of how long you had been wearing a path in the carpet, just walking and waiting to see the headlights of your boyfriend’s car shine through your window.

And then you saw it.

You ripped open your bedroom door and were halfway down the stairs when you heard your father call to you from the living room, “Hey, sweetie, I think your—”

“I know!” you cut him off as you bounded up to the door. Taking a deep breath, you fixed your hair and your shirt before unlocking and opening the front door to meet him on the steps. You smiled at him despite your nerves, “Hey!”

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Hey.”

“Everything okay?” You were impressed with the amount of pep in your voice considering the fact that it felt like your chest was starting to cave in on itself.

“Um. You…you think we could talk for a minute?” He made no move to try to come inside the house and you already knew that your gut had been right from the second he told you at school that he wanted to see you tonight.

Still, you swallowed past the lump in your throat and nodded. You pulled the door shut behind you as you landed on the tiny front step of your house. You wanted to reach out and hug him, kiss him, like that would wipe away the reality of what was about to happen, make him change his mind.

“What’s going on?” you asked, realizing that he still hadn’t started whatever conversation that he was trying to have with you.

“I just,” his gaze fell to his shoes, unable to look at the sadness in your eyes, the way you were twisting your hands, “I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

You knew exactly what he was talking about, but you still asked, “Do what?” Whether you were playing dumb to make him suffer through saying what he really meant, or just being in denial, you weren’t quite sure. The ball was in his court again, though.

“I don’t think we should see each other anymore.”

Even though you knew it was coming, it still sucked the air out of your lungs. Your hands stopped twisting as your lip started to tremble. His name slipped past your lips in a whisper as you reached for him, only for him to pull away. You hated the word that came out next, but it was too late to stop it. “Please,” like a dam breaking your tears spilled over onto your cheeks, “don’t do this. We can—”

His voice was quiet, but harsh, “It’s over, alright?” He still had a hard time looking you in the eye. "I'm breaking up with you.”

You opened your mouth to try and argue, but he was already turning on his heel to head back towards his car. It was heartbreaking, and after everything you felt like you deserved a hell of a lot more than that. You at least deserved a reason. If the lump in your throat hadn’t been suffocating you so much, you would’ve called after him. But you couldn’t force it.

You let out a choked sob as you fought the urge to crumple into a pile on the front step. Leaning back against the door, you buried your face in your hands as you cried, trying to keep yourself as quiet as possible so your parents wouldn’t hear.

When you got yourself under control enough to make it to your room without causing a scene, you let yourself back in the house. You were quietly but quickly making your way back to the stairs when your dad spoke up again from the living room.

“Everything alright?”

You fought the urge to sniffle, knowing it would be a dead giveaway. Instead, you took a deep breath to try and get your voice to even out as much as possible. “Yea, all good. Just dropped off a couple things for me.”

“Nice kid.” The praise was passive, but it still felt like a knife twisting in your freshly broken heart.

“Yea,” was all you said as you quickly padded up the stairs. You were practically sprinting down the hall to your room, swinging the door shut behind you before falling onto your bed in a mess of tears.

You didn’t remember falling asleep. When your alarm clock blared and woke you up, though, you were still lying on your stomach on top of your blankets, still dressed in your clothes from the day before. The pounding headache was what made it all come rushing back to you.

Letting out an unsteady breath, you fought the urge to cry. You blinked back your tears, forcing yourself to take deep breaths despite the lump already reforming in your throat. You somehow managed to get yourself out of bed to get changed and dressed for the day. There was no way that your parents were going to let you skip school, even if they knew what had happened the night before, so you weren’t even going to invite the argument.

You knew that you should’ve eaten breakfast, but your stomach was in knots. Instead, you slipped silently through the house, gathering up your sweater and your backpack as you went. You called out a quick, half-hearted goodbye to your parents before stepping outside to catch the bus. You made yourself as small as possible, fighting the urge to completely curl up on the bus seat and disappear.

There were a couple lingering stares here and there as you walked to your locked. Clearly, the news must’ve already started to spread. The rumor mill really never stopped turning. You wondered if someone knew more about the reasons why than you did—maybe you should ask around when you felt a little less like crying.

One person who clearly hadn’t heard about what happened was Eddie, because he was waiting for you at your locker, leaning back against it like it was the most casual thing in the world. There was no one else in the world you usually wanted to see when you felt like this, but you didn’t want to tell him what had happened.

The goofy grin on his face instantly went away when he saw how exhausted and sad you looked. Pushing off of your locker, he stepped in closer to you, eyes searching yours. He didn’t really have to ask, given what you had told him the night before, but just in case he was wrong, he still asked, “What happened?”

Your lip instantly began to tremble, “I don’t…I don’t want to talk about it, Eddie.”

He clenched his jaw, his brain torn between anger at your ex, and the urge to hug you and comfort you. “Where,” he took a breath to check his tone, “where is he?”

You shook your head as you stepped in front of your locker, dialing the combination into the lock, “It’s not worth it.”

“He can’t just—”

“Please, Eddie,” your voice was soft, sad, not a tone he’d ever really heard from you before, “I just wanna go to homeroom. I don’t want to think about it, okay?” That was a futile sentiment, because you knew for a fact it was going to be on your mind all day.

It took a conscious effort, but he wasn’t going to make you more upset than you already were if he could help it. He forced a nod. “Okay.” He stood to the side, allowing you to swap out your books for the morning.

When you shut your locker and turned back to face him, the tiny, lopsided grin he offered you made you smile despite the tears stinging at your eyes. He pulled you into a hug, and while you were grateful for it, you knew for a fact that there were going to be tear-stains on his light-wash denim vest.

“I’ll cut class with you,” he offered in a sing-songy voice, your face still buried in his chest.

You laughed, pulling yourself away from him and immediately wiping the last remains of tears from your cheeks. “No,” you shook your head at him, “No skipping. We’re crossing the stage together this year. No cutting class.”

He was glad to hear you sounding a little more like your usual self, so he didn’t push it. The two of you walked side-by-side, making your way to homeroom. You tried to ignore the stares, and you could feel the way that Eddie tensed up when he realized that some people were staring, that they knew. He had never been afraid of making a scene, and while you enjoyed that about him most times, you just wanted to get through day as unnoticed as possible.

You took the long way to a few of your classes in a desperate attempt to see your ex as little as possible. You hated that you were doing that, but you just didn’t want to invite drama or tears or whatever else if you could help it. You needed a few days to lick your wounds before you could go the whole prideful route.

“I’ll drive you home,” Eddie said as he materialized at your locker at the end of the day. Usually it was a question, but not this time.

You appreciated it, but you didn’t want him just doing it out of pity. You shook your head. “I’m fine, Eddie.”

“Never said you weren’t,” he shrugged, hooking his thumbs on the straps of his backpack, “I simply said that I’m driving you home.”

You tugged on the combination lock to make sure it was secure before turning around and leaning back against your locker. You let out a tired sigh as you looked at Eddie. There was the usual hint of a smile pulling at the ends of his lips, and you had the feeling that you weren’t going to be able to talk him out of driving you home. Maybe the company would be good. You’d either end up laughing with him or crying—both of those were equally likely at this point.

“C’mon,” he spoke up when you still hadn’t anything, dangling his keys in front of your face, “your chariot awaits.”

You rolled your eyes but started to walk towards the parking lot with him. “Chariot seems a bit generous,” you joked.

He placed his hand against his chest in mock offense. “Excuse me?” he shook his head, “Chariot doesn’t even begin to describe the glorious—”

You cut him off as he began to gesture emphatically with his hands, letting out your first real genuine laugh all day as you said, “Alright, alright. My bad, okay? Your van is wonderful. Eighth wonder of the world, truly.”

As the two of you were walking across the parking lot, it was impossible for you not to see your ex standing by his car with a few of his friends. They were all talking and laughing. Logically, you knew that they probably weren’t talking about you, but your brain was still telling you that they were.

Eddie immediately noticed the way that you tensed up again. He looked around, trying to see what had caused the shift in your mood. His jaw clenched when his eyes landed on your ex. The kid was looking right back at Eddie, too.

Eddie’s eyes were still locked on him as he asked, “Want me to go and say something to him?”

Your eyes widened and you shook your head. “No. No I don’t want that.”

“You sure?” he glanced at you for a moment before refocusing his attention, “Because I will.”

“Eddie, it’s not—”

Your words got caught in your throat when you heard your ex’s voice calling over to Eddie. “Hey, Munson,” the words had never sounded so taunting, “something I can help you with?”

You saw the way that Eddie’s hands instantly clenched into fists by his sides. You grabbed onto his arm with one hand, placing the other against his chest, “Eddie, please don’t. He’s not worth it.”

Under any other circumstances, Eddie would’ve taken the time to appreciate the fact that your hands were on him, the soft warmth of your palm bleeding through the fabric of his t-shirt. His mind was too busy focusing on other things now, though.

“He hurt you, though,” Eddie said through gritted teeth.

“Yea,” you agreed, nodding, “but whatever this is about to turn into isn’t going to change that.”

Eddie hadn’t been planning on going out of his way to confront your ex, but if the universe was going to drop the opportunity right on his doorstep, he wasn’t going to turn away from it. He pulled himself away from you, knowing that the scolding from you after the fact was going to be worth the satisfaction that would come from putting your ex in his place.

“How fucking stupid,” Eddie stormed over, long strides quickly collapsing the distance between them, “could you possibly be?”

You were already burying your face in your hands. Your ex laughed in disbelief at what he was hearing. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me!”

He rolled his eyes. “I don’t think that anyone doing their senior year for the third time has the right to be calling anyone stupid.” He looked around Eddie, locking his eyes on you. “What, Y/N, I hurt your feelings last night so you’re sending this guy over here to—”

He didn’t get the rest of the sentence out. Before he, or any of his friends, even knew what was happening, Eddie’s fist collided with his jaw. No one saw it coming, especially not you. Eddie didn’t have a violent bone in his body, and yet his hook had caught your ex hard enough on the jaw to send him tumbling to the ground, his back slamming against the car behind him as he fell.

Your eyes were wide, feet frozen in place as you watched it all unfold in front of you. You thought for sure that your ex’s friends were going to do something, or that your ex was going to jump back up and escalate things further. You wondered if Eddie was going to drop down and get another good shot in.

None of those things happened, though. Your ex’s buddies all looked too stunned to speak. You couldn’t see the expression on Eddie’s face since his back was to you, but you had to assume, going by the fear in your ex’s eyes, that he looked more serious than anyone had ever seen him before.

“You don’t talk to her anymore, alright?” he paused, waiting for a response. When he didn’t get one, he repeated himself, his voice a little harsher this time, “Alright?”

Your ex nodded, slowly getting up from where he had been laid out on the group, trying not to think about the fact that he could feel the blood from the cuts Eddie’s rings had left on the side of his face. “Alright.”

You finally willed your feet to move. Quickly walking forward, you grabbed onto Eddie’s arm and pulled him back towards the van with as much force as you could muster given the fact that you were still shocked at what had just happened. Eddie didn’t fight you on it at all, allowing you to yank him along.

When both of you were by the closed driver’s door of the van, out of sight of the cluster of boys you’d left behind, you pried your hand from around Eddie’s arm. Dragging your hands down your face, you tried to come up with the right words to convey what you were thinking.

“What…what the hell was that?!” you vaguely gestured in the direction the two of you had just come from.

There wasn’t a shred of remorse in his expression as he told you, “I told you I would take care of him.”

Your laugh was born more from shock than from humor. “I didn’t—I didn’t ask you to!”

His brows knit together. “He hurt you. And then he was going to talk to you like that,” he jerked his thumb back over his shoulders, “in front of all his stupid little friends, like he didn’t make the biggest mistake of his life.”

“What if they tried to hurt you?”

He chuckled. “I bet I run faster than them.”

“I’m serious, Eddie!” you swatted the outside of his arm.

“I’m serious too!” The statement lost a little bit of its punch because of the smile that was starting to curl his lips.

You huffed, dropping your face into your hands. You didn’t say anything for a few seconds, and when Eddie saw your shoulders starting to shake, his heart dropped into his stomach. The last thing he was looking to do was make you cry. He didn’t ever lose his temper like that but something in him just snapped, and he knew that it was because he cared about you. All of the posturing, the humor, all of it drained out of him as he reached forward, comfortingly resting his hands on your shoulders.

“Hey,” his voice was soft, “hey, Y/N, I’m—”

He stopped when you lifted your face from your palms, when he saw the smile on your face and heard the laughter coming out of you. You were shaking your head as you ran your fingers back along your scalp.

“You really, you really just punched him in the face?”

He wanted to feel relieved by your current response, but he wasn’t quite sure if he was. “Yea,” he answered plainly, the smirk starting to appear on his face undoing any of the work done by his somewhat neutral tone, “I did.”

“I can’t believe you really did that. Holy shit, Eddie, you could’ve gotten your ass kicked.”

He shrugged. “Still would’ve been worth it.”

“You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

There was something about the small, soft smile on your face that dragged Eddie back to reality. It was only then that he felt the slight pulsing in his hand. He closed and opened his fist a few times, hoping that it would make the dull pain go away. You noticed instantly and shook your head at him as you reached out and took his hand in yours.

“Let me see.”

He didn’t put up a fight. If anything, he just watched intently as you so carefully and gently looked over his hands. Your fingers glided along his, ghosting over the rings on his fingers as you made sure that he was alright. He didn’t break any skin with just one punch, but you could see that his knuckles were still red from it. You gently brushed your thumb over them.

“You’re in better shape than he is,” you said with a small smile as you dropped his hand.

He wished that you were still holding onto it. He tried not to think about it too much as he said, “Yea, well, I could’ve told you that. I still have you.”

You expected him to follow that up with a laugh or a joke of some kind, but he didn’t. The two of you stood there, letting his statement hang in the air between you. The day had been nothing short of a rollercoaster and that’s exactly what you chalked up the butterflies in your stomach to. Your eyes looked down at the blacktop, unable to ignore the heat in your face from the way Eddie was looking at you.

“You think you can still drive me home?”

He waited for you to look back up at him before nodding, a goofy smile taking over his face as he gave a dramatic bow and motioned towards the van, “After you.”

You laughed as you walked around to the driver’s door. “The epitome of chivalry, Eddie Munson.” It wasn’t exactly a lie.

There was comfort in the routine—ignition on, radio blaring, Eddie apologizing and turning the volume down. Going through the motions was nice despite the emotional tirade happening inside your ribcage. Neither you nor Eddie said anything about any of it as he pulled out onto the road. You kept looking over at him, and he kept looking over at you, but neither of you managed to look at each other at the same time.

“Thank you,” you broke the silence.

He looked over at you, eyebrows raised in surprise. “What?”

“Thank you. For…all of it.” You laughed. “Not that I’m encouraging you going around and punching people in the face. But, just, thank you for having my back.”

“Always.” He nodded, one hand coming and resting on your knee before he thought better of it. He almost pulled it away, but he figured that just might make it weirder. You didn’t flinch away from it, didn’t swat his hand away, so he left it.

Your eyes were glued to his hand, the rings on his fingers, his knuckles still a little red. You fought the urge to rest your hand on top of his. You cleared your throat like it would clear your head, “Guess you were right.”

“I usually am,” he quipped with no hesitation. Pausing, he glanced over at you and asked, “Right about what?”

You laughed, “That he’s an idiot.”

Eddie laughed as well. “Right. That.” He paused for a moment before letting out another laugh. “Yea, I was definitely right about that.”

The two of you fell back into comfortable silence as he continued to drive. You reached forward, fiddling with the radio to choose a different station. Eddie rolled his eyes with a smile but this time he didn’t try to switch it back. For some reason that made your whole chest feel warm. Settling back into the seat, you reveled in the way he drummed his fingers against your knee along with the pop beat coming from the stereo speakers.

You were a little bummed when he pulled into your driveway, not wanting to return to the reality of it all when the bubble the two of you were in were so nice. Outside the walls of the van you had to go and tell your parents what had happened, you had to gear up for what the next few weeks of school were going to be like, especially not that Eddie had punched your ex-boyfriend in the face. Inside the car, though, it was just you and Eddie, and the radio, and his hand on your knee. Who in their right mind would give that up?

Like he could read your mind, Eddie said, “It’ll be fine.”

You turned, still leaning back in the passenger seat. “Yea?”

He gave your leg the lightest squeeze. “Yea.”

“Thanks again, Eddie,” you rested your hand on top of his for a moment before taking it away again.

“Yea, no—” he stopped short as you leaned over the center console to hug him. He hesitated for a split second before wrapping his arms around you, embracing you as best he could given how the two of you were situated. He mumbled against the side of your head, lips pressed lightly to your hair, “No problem.” You pulled away, grabbing your backpack off the floor on your side. He watched you, willing himself to say something, anything. Clearing his throat, he finally managed it, “I can…I can pick you up tomorrow morning. If you want.”

You found yourself smiling at the blush you saw creeping up into his cheeks. You nodded. “I’d like that.”

“Okay,” the relief in his voice was palpable, “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“Yea, I’ll see you in the morning.” You opened the door and hopped out. Once you closed the door, you spoke to him through the open window, “No starting anymore fights, alright?” you joked.

“Alright,” he agreed with a laugh.

You smiled, backpedaling towards your house, “Bye, Eddie.”

He waved, “Bye, Y/N.”

He waited, as per usual, to make sure that you got into the house okay. This time, you turned around in the doorway, offering up one more smile and wave before walking inside. When the door shut behind you, Eddie let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, and a giant grin began to creep across his face as he got back out onto the road.

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

[hershelwidget]

Actually now I think about it. We’re barely scratched the SURFACE that is my Big Brained Thoughts About Radio Star. so to fix that here’s me throwing damn near all the drawings I never showed y’all. go bonkers. also im not going to explain a SINGLE ONE OF THESE you have to find any possible context in the tags im so sorry

oh thats. l. less than i thought. uhm.

can i offer you then This Thing

and uhhh uhh uh. scrambles. some select Words from my Note and Document about him respectively

ok so funny story. half my radio star content is straight up Missing :)

#im not the least bit upset about that :)))))))) (i am sobbing into my pillow hes just GONE i LOST the FRAGMENTS of his SOUL) #okay well i have. an IDEA of where most of it is #but i dont want to go into that place (the dms of a dead person) because I Dont Want To #unForTUnAtLeY FoR Me i have TWO reasons now to go there. FUCK #i’ll just wait till it builds up to five. it’ll get there eventually #anyways tags #just dance #just dance 3 #video killed the radio star #i changed my mind im explaining ONE OF THESE: #he is French :) ok tgats all #hes MY favourite coach so I GET TO MAKE THE CORRECT HEADCANONS!!!! /hj #oh no. i tricked myself into thinking about a blorbo. damn you consequences of my actions! #I JUST NOTICED THAT ALMOST ALL THE FIRST FOUR DRAWINGS APPEAR IN THE COLLAGE. THATS SO FUNNY

[sugarfluffandallthatgoodstuff]

Upcoming fics in the next few weeks

Hey y’all I’m sorry I haven’t really posted much I’ve been really busy with working all summer and felt like i had brains made out of scrambled eggs and boiled spagoodle noodles. I start my second year of college in a few weeks so I should have time to get these done (finally).

But anyway onto the promised proposition in the title:

Tattoo artist!piercer!Sukuna x reader

Another Hawks x Reader fic (title and subject undetermined)

A KiriKamiBaku x reader fic

That one fic request in my inbox from @problem-there-no-is-not (I swear I’ve been working on it since spring break and my self-doubting dumb ass was like “should I release this yet?”) So yeah that would be one of my first releases of these next 2 weeks

A DabiHawks x reader

And a marching band AU series (because I was a band nerd in high school and still am and I never see enough of them)

Again these should all be out by August 25th (if my dumbass doesn’t forget)

Thx

~sugar (also imma start going by red on here sooooo)

~Red

#SHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESH #yo Ive been gone for 3 months wtf lol

[fernandflora]

im gonna be honest y’all, i mainly use tumblr when i first wake up and as i’m falling asleep and thus vaguely delirious. i don’t think i’ve made sense on here once and yk what i think i’ll keep it that way

#this hellsite does not deserve me at peak brain capacity #sometimes i’ll read something and will not register a goddamn word of it LMAO #i am a victim of scrambled egg for brain disease #and it gets worse when i’m sleepy #im so sorry y’all have to see me this way </3 #fern speaks

[buckybleu]

❈ morning kiss ❈

pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

summary: You're upset and Bucky has no idea why.

a/n: Night 11 of Tricks & Treats 🐈‍! Something short and sweet to get you through the rest of your week! Hope you enjoy and happy reading ❤️

reblogs/likes/feedback are greatly appreciated! 🎃

word count: 644

“Before you start yelling at me, I brought flowers”. Bucky extends a bouquet of tulips to you with an apologetic smile. You completely ignore your boyfriend; you turn to Sam, giving him a smile.

“Hey Sam, come on in.” Sam chuckles and follows behind you, nudging past Bucky.

“What, no hello for your boyfriend? C;mon baby I’m sorry.” Bucky quickly catches up to, wrapping his arms around your waist. You continue your silent treatment and ask Sam about his day as you set the table.

“Anything new happening at the compound? I heard there's a new guy joining the team.” You twist out of Bucky’s hold to grab a couple beers. Bucky slumps into a chair, his mind confused. Bucky’s sifting through anything and everything in his brain to understand what he’s done wrong.

“Yea, remember that crazy bus video I showed you?” Sam glances over at Bucky, laughing at his grumpy pout. “His name’s Shang-Chi, great kid. Meeting went well, other than your Tin Man showing up late and forgetting about it.”

You hand Sam a beer, placing the other in front of Bucky. “Seems like he’s forgetting everything these days huh?” Bucky gently grabs your wrist, stopping you from leaving.

“Doll, what’s going on? Please tell me. You’re killing me here.” Bucky’s puppy dog eyes nearly make you give in, but you suddenly remember why you’re upset. You scoff and pull your arm away before you head back into the kitchen.

Bucky sends Sam a glare when he hears him laughing. “Oh man, what did you do? Better fix it Buck or you’re gonna sleep on the couch tonight.” Bucky ignores Sam and gets up to find you. He was going to figure out why you’re upset and fix it right then and there.

“Doll…” No answer, your back still turned to him. “Baby, what’s going on hm?” Bucky wraps his arms around your waist, pressing warm kisses to your neck. “Please talk to me.”

You try to ignore his warm touch, but your wall slowly starts to crumble.

“Doll, please. I’m begging you,” Bucky’s now on his knees pleading for something, even if it’s a hum. “Baby please, I’ll do anything, just tell me what’s wrong. I’ll give you a massage every night for the next month, cook you dinner, treat you out on a date, whatever it is I’ll do it. I’ll even take you to the pet shelter to adopt that snowball of cat you’re interested in. I’ll give you piggyback rides andー”

“You forgot to kiss me goodmorning.”

“What?” Bucky quickly scrambles to feet, hands cupping your face. Your cute pout makes his heart flutter.

“You left this morning without kissing me. I thought you wereー”

Bucky slots his warm lips against yours, pulling your face in to deepen it. When he pulls away, a little laugh slips out. “You were upset with me...because I didn’t kiss you?” Bucky tightly wraps his arms around you, swaying back and worth.

“It’s not funny! You’ve never left without a kiss before. I thought you were mad or something.”

Bucky places a kiss on your forehead, “You’re lucky you’re cute Doll. I don’t get down on my knees and beg for forgiveness for anyone. I’ll make sure to do more than kiss you every morning.”

“Oh? What do you have in mind, soldier?”

“Oh doll, I have a lot things I would to do to yoー”

“As much as I am happy you lovebirds figured out what’s wrong, I’m starving. Y’all can make up later...when I’m not here.” Sam dodges the kitchen towel Bucky throws at him, retreating back into the dining room.

“Tonight, I’ll make it up. I’ll give you all the kisses and more.” Bucky’s low and raspy voice makes you shiver. You chuckle and pull Bucky into one last kiss.

“I’ll see you tonight, soldier.”

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes

[h0tchner]

Something More (Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader)

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: Written as a request for the loml, Abby! (@heliotropehotch!) "Could I have a hotch x reader request thats got a love confession- maybe a hurt comfort scene where the reader is maybe torn up about something like self deprecation or some cop makes an off-handed compliment and he cups her cheeks and wipes the tears away? Pretty please 🥺"

word count: 3.2k

includes: love confessions! hurt/comfort, protective!hotch, mutual pining!!!, kissing, a little teaser of sexytimes, work tension, BAU!reader, crying and other emotions, rude af deputies, fluff soooo much fluff

rating: 18+ (cursing, crude nicknames, suggestive sexual mentions, and brief explicit sexual content at the very end)

a/n: HELLO BESTIES! I hope you love this one! If you want a smutty part two, let me know. PLS (!!!!!) interact if you liked this fic; rb, comment, like and/or send me a request if you have ideas for future fics! i love y’all! - rivka💞

some pals tags: @arsonhotchner @laurensprentiss @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie

“It’s time to give the profile,” Hotch announces.

Six words. One sentence. Zero hesitation.

“Go and gather everybody in the bullpen,” he directs Spencer, who nods and quietly exits the conference room to collect your team and the rest of the Sherrif’s department of this small, Wisconsin town.

You stand on the opposite side of the table from your boss, looking at him expectantly. Hotch meets your gaze. His tongue darts out from between his lips as he glares at you from beneath thick lashes. You wait for your instructions, but the instructions don’t come. Rather, you both stand there in a staring contest, unmoving.

You can’t help but feel bare under his scrutiny, but this feeling is nothing new. Every time Hotch looks at you, it feels as if every fibre of your being is on fire. It’s been this way since the very first day you started with the BAU, and, over time, the flame has only burned brighter.

You and Hotch have grown close over the two years you’ve been with the team: closer than he’s been with any of his other agents, even Rossi. It all started with one long night spent together in his office, sharing cold Chinese food, scribbling away at mountains of paperwork. It was then, sitting across the desk from him, laughing at his incredulous reaction when he dropped some Lo Mein on an After-Action Report, that you knew: you were in deep. From then on, your Chinese food office “dates” became a regular occurrence. And then, those regular occurrences transformed into other regular occurrences; to name a few: rides on the jet, side by side, sharing soft glances and tired smiles after hard cases… holding hands to comfort each other when emotionally vulnerable… and even bringing you your favourite coffee on mornings that you’ve needed an extra boost. All these little moments of kindness and care are what made you fall in love with him. You would cross the line from coworkers to more in a heartbeat if you knew for certain that he felt the same way about you. But you refuse to take a risk on losing what you currently have with Hotch for the chance at something more.

The way that Hotch looks at you now, tall and commanding, feels very much like something more… it’s incredibly intimate. He’s effectively stripped away all the layers of protection you’ve built up to do your job with one pointed glance. What you don’t know is that he too feeling the same way, and is toeing a line between being your boss, being your friend, and being your “something more.”

Hotch breathes out hard through his nose. You watch as he swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he does. His jaw ticks. He shifts on his feet.

“I want you to sit this one out,” he says.

“Hotch?” You question, puzzled. Nothing about this day has prepared you for him to say that. You start racking your brain, trying to figure out why he would give you such a ridiculous order. Did you piss him off somehow? Did you play-flirt with Morgan too much in the car? Overlook an important lead? Did he not like the coffee you made him this morning?

Looking over at him, you swear he almost looks conflicted… but it doesn’t last.

“This is not up for debate. Do you understand me? You’re sitting this one out.” He repeats, steadfast.

“I don’t understand, what did I do wrong?” You ask more defensively this time, wishing he would give you more information. Something, anything besides the “SSA Aaron Hotchner” routine he was pulling on you now.

“I never said you did anything wrong.” Hotch moves forward a step, finally breaking eye contact, opting to gather files and loose papers into his arms.

“So, then what it is?” You cross your arms, stepping forwards as well, challenging him with your posture.

He doesn’t respond, nor does he look at you. Instead, he lumps more files into his arms before rounding the table, moving swiftly toward the door.

You have never, ever disobeyed one of his orders because his orders have always made sense… until now.

“Hotch,” you say sternly, your stubborn feet moving to stand between him and the exit before your logical brain can stop you.

He’s practically up against you, cornering you between his solid body and the old wooden door. His height dominates your shorter frame, and the heat coming off his body is positively criminal. Your heart flutters in your chest as he stares you down, calculating his next move.

“Out of my way, Agent Y/L/N.” He breathes out, tensing his jaw.

“Fine,” you stutter, “just tell me why and then I’ll let you go.” Your confidence wavers as you’re a little taken aback by his official use of your title and last name.

You’re hurt, confused… and he knows this. No matter how hard you’re putting on your tough-girl FBI face, Hotch can see right through it. He knows this order is unjustified, but he has his own reasons: reasons that he can’t get into. Not now.

Hotch lets his eyes dart to the side, past your head, not daring to look you in the eyes. He wills himself to be gentle.

“I can’t tell you, but I need you to trust me. Sit this one out.” He verbalizes, looking at you a little softer now. His face relaxes a little more into the Hotchner you’ve come to know: the one who calls his son every night to read a bedtime story, the one who grins every time you beat him in chess.

You two stand there a moment longer, your heart racing from the heat of the quarrel and your current proximity to your Unit Chief.

Hotch opens his mouth to say something else, but a knock on the door behind you stops him in his tracks. You step aside and he whips open the door; a very apologetic Spencer stands behind it.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Spencer says, clearing his throat awkwardly, “but everyone is ready in the bullpen.”

“Thank you,” Hotch nods, stepping forward to leave, but you grab a hold of his arm.

“Hotch,” you begin, not entirely sure what you want to say.

“Later,” he answers, finishing the unspoken thought.

With that, he’s out the door and you’re left alone with only stale coffee and a bunch of disorganized files to keep you company.

You close the door behind them with a sigh, letting yourself rest against it again, closing your eyes for a moment in defeat. Three days on this case. Three days of hard work, interviews, and research just to get benched in the end zone. You wish that you didn’t love Hotch, because maybe if you didn’t, it would be easier to disobey him. Opening your eyes again, you scan the quiet room. Then, something in front of you catches your eye and you get an idea.

On the table rests one of the precinct’s phones. It is all too easy to use the conference feature to listen in on one of the other phone lines: specifically, one in the bullpen.

You grin and rush over to the device, feeling a little bit sheepish for not listening to Hotch, but you push the buttons anyway, and bring the receiver up to your ear.

At first, all you hear is the shuffling of papers and muffled voices. You take a seat, leaning back in your chair like the cat who caught the canary. Several more moments pass of bureaucratic white noise, but then, someone speaks.

“Where’s the slutty one?” A male voice whispers.

“Oh, Agent Y/N? Probably on her knees somewhere waiting for her boss to come back.” A second male voice snickers back, matching the volume of the first.

You gasp, the phone slipping out of your hand, landing on the table with a loud thunk.

Scrambling, you grab it again, your other hand coming to rest over your open mouth.

“Don’t know why he wouldn’t let us use her as bait. This whole case could’ve been wrapped up and done by now if we just stuck her in a skimpy dress and shoved her out on the street.” One of them muses.

“Obviously because he’s sleeping with her.” The other mutters. “Agent Hotchner looked like he was going to take your head off when you asked him about it. Thought he was going to deck you for suggesting disguising her as a hooker to lure this guy out.”

“Yeah, he did. She looks like the victims, though. Bet she’s a whore like them too.”

“Deputies, we’re starting.” You hear a third voice pipe up. This time it’s one you recognize: it’s Hotch. “This is your final warning. I don’t want to hear another word out of you for the rest of the day. Not only is this wildly inappropriate, but it is insulting and vile. If I hear either of you speak about, look at, or interact with Agent Y/N, I will make sure you are both charged with harassment and fired from this department. Is that clear?”

With that, your eyes nearly pop out of your head. The deputies mumble something back, but you can’t hear over the sound of papers rustling.

Stunned, you set the phone back in its holder and force air into your lungs.

Waves of thoughts come crashing down on you. You have so many questions and so many answers and it’s all just… too much.

Suddenly, you know that you need to be anywhere but here.

You stand, shoving the chair aside and burst out of the conference room, fuming. You power-walk down the hall, and past the bullpen, focused on getting yourself outside and into the fresh air. Understandably, you don’t look up as you pass the profile briefing, so you don’t see Hotch’s brow furrow at the sight of you. You also don’t see him hand his papers to JJ, excuse himself, and race to follow you out the front door.

Once you’re outside in the parking lot, you look up at the cloudy, grey sky, and the tears start to fall. You feel guilty and angry; part of you wants to run away and cry, but the other part of you wants to walk straight up to those men and kick them straight in the dick. They not only called you vile names, but they also called the victims – those poor, dead women – the same. You sniffle, thinking about how Hotch stepped in and protected you, stood up for you.

Hotch… the thought of him makes you cry a little harder.

You start to pace around, kicking gravel as you went.

Were you that obvious? Was your crush so rampant that two low-level deputies in the middle of nowheresville picked up that easily on how you really felt about your boss?

“Fuck you two,” you curse under your breath to nobody as you choke back sobs. You kick a large piece of gravel as hard and as far as you can, but it doesn’t help.

“Are you okay?” A voice prods from behind you, gently, hesitantly, as if not to spook you. It’s a curt baritone, laced with concern. It’s Hotch.

“Hotch,” you breathe, turning to face him, furiously wiping tears away from your eyes.

“What happened?” He frowns, stepping closer to you, a comforting hand reaching forward to take yours.

Any other day you would grasp it contently, letting him console you. Today? All you can hear are the deputy’s comments. Sleeping with her. Whore. On her knees. You’re embarrassed and ashamed, so, you involuntarily step back.

“It’s nothing,” you put your hands up, looking down at your feet.

“Y/N,” Hotch says, his heart pounding in his chest.

You look back up, locking on his beautiful, angular face. You see every feature clouded in a haze of sorrow and concern.

You know you must swallow your pain and try to get it out. He wasn’t about to let you off easy.

“You… they… I…” you begin, but never finish your sentence. Instead, you start to cry again.

Wordlessly, Hotch moves to cup your face in his hands. They’re large and slightly calloused, encasing your cheeks as his thumbs gently swipe away the tears. His soft eyes search your watery ones; despite your better instinct, you bring your hands up to rest on his chest. You feel his breathing hitch. One of his hands moves from your face to cover your smaller hand against his chest. The two of you stay there, just like that, for another handful of heartbeats. You focus on his hands and how warm and safe they make you feel. Soon enough, you stop crying and gather the courage to speak.

“I heard them.” You whisper, not trusting yourself to say another word. You know that Hotch knows exactly who “them” is, and exactly what it is that you’ve heard.

His brow creases and his hand grips yours tighter. He cleans another tear off your cheek, and then lets that hand down to ball in a fist at his side.

“I’m going to kill them.” Hotch states, furious and heartbroken.

“Me first.” You sniffle.

Your boss sighs, giving you a heartfelt look. Leave it to you to make a joke at a time like this.

“I told them this morning that if I ever heard them say another thing about you, I was going to have their badges. I should’ve kicked them off this case hours ago.” He huffs, closing his eyes, letting his other hand, the one that was covering yours, drop down to his side.

You know this look all too well. You know he’s blaming himself.

“It’s not your fault,” you offer, smoothing your hands over his chest to settle on his upper arms. “Hotch, look at me.”

He doesn’t at first, but eventually, he opens his eyes. His hands open and close at his sides, as if he’s fighting them to be still.

“I’m sorry.” He breathes out. “For everything. For handling this how I did.”

“I’m not.” You chime in, feeling braver, calmer now that you’re here with him. Your comment earns a quizzical glance and a slight head tilt from Hotch, urging you to go on. “You stood up for me. You honoured me. You respected me. You protected me. You –“

With a fierce momentum, your next sentence is swallowed by Hotch’s lips pressing into yours. His hands come up to rest on your hips, and then circle around your waist to pull you closer. He’s warm and soft and intense; you whimper into the kiss, moving your hands to rest on the back of his neck and card in his hair. The kiss is over far too soon for your liking, both of you needing to pull back and inhale.

Hotch looks at you with heavy eyes, hands gripping your hips. He smells like coffee and pine, with a hint of something spicier. Everything about him is overwhelming yet grounding.

“Finally,” you whisper, hands clasped around his neck. “It’s about damn time.”

“It is,” is all he musters, still dazed by the audacity of his own actions.

“Aaron?” You lick your lips, feeling his hands squeeze you tight at your use of his first name.

“Yeah?” He can’t help but start to smile, showing off his adorable dimples and crinkled lines around his eyes.

“I love you; do you know that?” You say in earnest.

Aaron giggles, giggles at your confession, and then attacks your lips again, making you yelp at the surprise. His lips detach from yours only to pepper kisses on your tear-stained cheeks, jaw, and forehead.

“I love you too,” he breathes out, giddier than you’ve ever seen him. He looks like a kid in a candy shop, and it makes your heart leap into your throat.

Just then, a car beeps on the road, startling you two. You’re suddenly reminded where you are, and why you’re here. The thought of having to go back inside makes you groan, and you bury your head into his chest for a moment. He hums into your hair, planting a kiss on the top of your head.

Reluctantly, you pull yourself off his chest to look up at him.

“Forget about them,” you say, “go finish giving the profile so we can close this case and get the hell out of this town so you can take me home and show me how much you love me.” You smile at him, pulling him in for another, lighter kiss.

He grins against your lips, meeting you for another smooch.

“Yes ma’am,” Hotch replies, giving you a kiss on the tip of your nose.

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

Three months later, you and Aaron are coming down from your highs, sweaty and blissed-out after an amazing lovemaking session. After the team wrapped up the case and made it back to Virginia in one piece, you and Hotch went out to dinner the next night. He took you to dine in at the Chinese restaurant that you both usually ordered from on those nights you both spent pining and yearning in his office. It was… perfect. He was perfect. Just as your friendship had blossomed, so did your relationship. One date led to another, one gesture turned into more, and you and Aaron settled into life as a couple with ease. You hadn’t brought up the incident with the deputies since it had happened the afternoon that Hotch had followed you out to the parking lot to wipe away your tears.

Now, as you lay in his arms, wrapped in his strong, loving, embrace, your mind wanders back to their words. However, you don’t feel animosity toward them, rather it makes you giggle.

“What’s so funny hot stuff?” Aaron cracks open an eye and smiles down at you. One arm is tucked underneath his head, and the other is tracing patterns on the bare skin of your shoulder.

“Oh, just that case we had in Wisconsin a few months back.” You nuzzle deeper into his chest with another laugh.

Hotch frowns, recalling the memory, thinking about the way those awful men spoke about you.

“How is that funny?” He asks, hesitantly.

“They called me a whore.” You say nonchalantly, peering innocently into his amber eyes. You bring your palm up to swipe across his cheek softly, feeling the light stubble of his jaw underneath your fingertips.

Both of his eyes are open now, and his hand motions cease their patterns on your skin. He’s confused, and the face he’s giving you is downright adorable. It makes you giggle again.

You detach yourself from his grasp and sit yourself up, carefully shimmying down the bed. Aaron’s eyes never leave you.

You nestle yourself between his legs and look up at him with a smirk.

“They were partially right.” You offer, studying the small changes in his face, watching as his eyes glaze over with lust for the second time that night.

“I am a whore.” You pout suggestively and flutter your eyelashes. “A whore for you, Hotch.”

He shakes his head at you in amusement and chuckles, but it quickly turns into a deep, throaty moan as you wrap your lips around the tip of him.

As you start to bob your head on his already hardening length, you think to yourself: as much as I hate to say it... someone should really give those two deputies a raise.

#aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner x you #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotch hotchner #criminal minds fandom #my fics #rb!!!!!! ily!!!!!!!!! #ivyheliotrope #abby! #aaron hotch

[lunarbuck]

I Know (You Promised Pt. 3)

~ people change, people grow ~

pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!reader (any race)

WC: 3.6k

Warnings: angst with a hopeful ending, swearing, description of injuries

A/N: This is part three of You Promised :) y’all i hate doing the whole injured reader thing but i couldn’t think of anything else lol also i apologize if the hospital protocol is incorrect, i’m going solely off of the one time i was in the hospital haha please let me know what you think!! <3

Part 1: You promised Part 2: I Tried

series masterlist | main masterlist | one shot masterlist

His phone rings, and Bucky feels around on his bed for the offending object. When he checks the caller ID, he doesn’t recognize the number, but he knows to answer, better to be safe than sorry.

“This is Bucky,” he says, voice still a little gruff from just waking up.

“Hello, Mr. Barnes. My name is Sierra, and I’m calling from St. Mary’s Hospital. You are listed as the emergency contact for–” Bucky’s brain catches up to what he’s hearing, and before he can stop himself, he cuts off the woman on the other line.

“What happened?” He shoots out of bed and quickly pulls on a pair of pants while carefully balancing his phone between his cheek and shoulder. His thoughts race; what happened to you?

“I cannot discuss the details with you over the phone, Sir. I need you to come in as soon as possible.” Bucky scrambles to put his shoes on, tripping over himself as he makes his way to the front door.

“Is she okay?” Sierra takes a moment to respond, and Bucky resists the urge to ask again.

“As I said, Mr. Barnes, I cannot discuss the details over the phone. The doctor will fill you in when you arrive. When do you think you’ll be available to come by?” Bucky slams the door behind him and stomps down the stairs, he doesn’t live too far from St. Mary’s, but it’s too far to walk. He’ll have to get a car.

“I’m on my way.”

When Bucky walks through the doors of the hospital, he’s hit with the smell of rubbing alcohol and cleaning chemicals. He hates hospitals, and he hates doctors. He walks up to the front desk and shoves his gloved hands into his pockets.

“Uh, I got a call about needing to come in,” he says apprehensively to the woman behind the desk. The medical mask she wears covers most of her face but judging by the crinkles in the corners of her eyes she smiles a lot. Her name tag reads Sierra, and Bucky releases a breath.

“Hello, Sir, what’s the name of the patient?”

“Y/N Y/L/N,” he replies. Sierra nods and types the information into her computer.

“Perfect, can I see some ID?” Bucky pulls his wallet out of his pocket with shaky hands and struggles for a moment to grab his ID before handing it to Sierra. She glances over it and types more into her computer. When she hands the ID back to Bucky, her eyes linger for a moment on his gloves, but she says nothing.

“Is she okay?” Bucky asks, not able to help himself.

“I’ll let the doctor know you’re here; she’ll come out and explain things to you. For now, please take a seat.” Even though all he wants to do is run through the hospital and look for you, Bucky sits down in the waiting room.

It feels like he can’t get a full breath. No matter how hard he tries, his lungs won’t fill all the way. It’s as if something is pressing on his chest, preventing air from getting in. He pulls out his phone and attempts to distract himself, but it doesn’t work. There isn’t anything more important than your wellbeing; nothing can take his mind off that.

After what feels like an eternity, a woman in a white coat comes out, glancing down at her clipboard. She calls Bucky’s name, and he shoots up, blood rushing to his head. The doctor walks toward him and motions for him to follow her.

“Good morning, Mr. Barnes,” she says kindly, giving Bucky a small smile. It strikes Bucky that this is one of the first times a doctor has spoken to him nicely. “Thank you for coming in. My name is Dr. Jean Abbott. I’ve been assigned to Ms. Y/N’s case. I’m sure you’re confused and worried, but we can’t give details about patients over the phone.” Dr. Abbott leads Bucky through a set of swinging doors and into a stark white hallway.

“That’s what Sierra said.” He feels like he’s in a trance; none of this feels real.

“Yes. About an hour ago, Y/N was admitted to the hospital. She was involved in a vehicle collision and brought in by an ambulance.” Bucky’s heart stops beating, and his steps falter. Dr. Abbott turns and places a gentle hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “Considering what happened, she’s in good condition. She’s injured and was in quite a bit of pain when she came in, but she’s strong, Mr. Barnes.”

They turn a corner, and Dr. Abbott stops in front of a closed door. There’s a small window, and inside, Bucky can see you, eyes shut, on the bed. The weight of the world crashes down on his shoulders.

“Fuck,” he whispers, reaching for the door handle.

“Mr. Barnes,” Dr. Abbott says, stopping Bucky from opening the door. “She’s been given medication to help with the pain. She’s asleep, and before you ask, yes, it’s safe. She’s gone through all the proper scans, and she’s being closely monitored. When she wakes up, she will be disoriented, and she may not even remember what happened.” Bucky nods. He just needs to be next to you, to hold you and keep you safe.

Dr. Abbott pushes the door open, and Bucky steps inside. The sight of you with the IV in your arm, the sensors on your body, wires connecting you to the machines makes him feel sick. There’s a chair beside your bed, but Bucky opts to just stand beside you. He gently runs his fingers along your hairline, where he sees a bruise forming.

A nurse steps into the room and speaks with Dr. Abbott for a moment, they glance at your chart and discuss treatment, but Bucky tunes them out.

“Sir, does she have insurance?” Bucky moves in slow motion as he reacts to the nurse’s words. His eyes never leave your face, slack from unconsciousness.

“Yes,” he replies quietly. He holds your hand in his, ungloved, so you’re skin to skin with him. Bucky knows he should keep his distance; the two of you aren’t in the place you used to be, but he needs to know that you’re okay, that you’re alive.

“Do you know if she keeps the card in her wallet?” Bucky nods. He remembers you pestering him about the fact that he never travels with any of his important information. The nurse prompts Bucky to grab your insurance card out of your wallet, so he does with shaky hands.

As he fingers through the pockets of your wallet, he finds your insurance card but what catches his eye is the crumpled piece of paper tucked behind your ID. He hands the insurance card to the nurse who steps out of the room. Then, Bucky pulls out the folded note.

He sits down in the uncomfortable plastic chair beside your bed and unfolds the paper. He finds your scrawling handwriting, faded and light in some spots. Bucky isn’t sure what it is; he doesn’t remember ever seeing you write something like this. You prefer to keep journals, so everything is in one place. When he reads the first words, his heart sinks.

Thank you all for coming today. It means more to me than I can say. As you all know, Bucky Barnes was indescribable. As I’m writing this, I can’t think of one word that can capture his spirit, his love, his soul accurately. He was defined by the people he loved, by us.

Tears brim in his eyes; he can’t believe you wrote a eulogy for him. He thinks back to the day the two of you planned his funeral, how your hands wouldn’t stop shaking. You’d been strong for him, but he saw how hard it was for you.

James Buchanan Barnes was born March 10, 1917, to Winnifred and George Barnes in Brooklyn, New York. He was an incredible son, brother, and friend. He loved hard and protected fiercely, standing up for what he believed in even when no one else would.

He cries freely now, not caring that people passing by stare at him strangely. He’s visited the grave his family made for him, he’s seen his name carved in stone with a birth and death date, but this is so different. He never got to hear his mother or family talk about him like this. He never heard the mourning words of the people he loved.

Bucky keeps reading, keeps tearing his heart apart with each word.

Loving Bucky was different. It wasn’t easy; it wasn’t all smooth sailing. There were hard days, days when I wasn’t sure he was going to come home in one piece. But it was worth it. Every minute, every tear I shed, every sleepless night. It was all worth it. Because without Bucky, my life would have been colorless. He brought light to my world after years of darkness. He showed me how to live, how to breathe. Even on the hard days when part of me wished he had kept his distance, I knew that this was how I was meant to spend my life.

Bucky courted me the old-fashioned way, flowers on my doorstep every morning and candlelit dinners. He was slow to open up to me, but once he did, I knew I was a goner. Bucky Barnes lived thousands of lives, not all of them his own, but they made him the man he was. I never doubted his devotion, and he never let me forget how much he cared. Bucky Barnes had so much love to give, and I was lucky to have a place in his heart.

He thinks back to the day you ended things, the way you wished he wouldn’t come home. He wonders why you’ve kept the eulogy if you felt that way. Bucky sets down the paper and turns his eyes toward you. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think you were just taking one of your daily naps. Before the breakup, he’d always compare you to a cat, sleeping in the sun.

One of your fingers twitches, and Bucky places your hand in his. He can’t believe he let this happen, that he let you slip away. He tells himself he’ll never leave your side again. He’ll prove it to you that he loves you, that he always has and always will. ‘Till the end of the line.

You feel heavy; something is sitting on your chest, preventing you from taking a full breath. Your eyes are glued shut, resisting every time you try to peel them open. Someone says your name, and you try to focus on it. The voice sounds far off, underwater.

Fingers sweep over your cheeks, brushing over one of your eyes, and it gives you the strength to fully awaken.

The lights in the room are too bright, the smell of chemicals is too powerful. You immediately shut your eyes again when the voice calls to you again, but this time it’s much closer. It’s familiar, warm, and welcoming. It’s sweet, comforting, and kind.

The voice is what coaxes your eyes open once more, but this time something has moved to block the light from your eyes. Blue eyes, brown hair, a scruffy beard, and deep-set worry lines.

Bucky.

He must see the recognition in your eyes because he smiles gently. His fingers continue to brush over your cheeks, your hair, and your nose. Whispers of touch bringing you back to reality.

“Bucky?” You croak, voice scratchy and dry. Emotion swims in Bucky’s eyes, and the heaviness in your chest lifts. “Bucky.” You say his name as if it could convey all the words in your head.

“I’m here, sweetie,” he whispers, leaning down to press his forehead to yours. The past few months come flooding back to you, the fighting, the feelings, the lunch meetings. You know you should tell him to step away, to give you space, but that’s not what you want right now.

Right now, you want nothing more than to wrap yourself up in his embrace and let him hold you. You want him to tell you that everything is going to be okay, that he’s got you. You lift your chin and bump your nose to his, calling a truce. Bucky nods; he understands.

He shifts, and as he does, you hear paper crinkling. You furrow your brow as the color drains from Bucky’s face. He glances down, and when he returns his gaze to you, he’s holding his eulogy.

You want to feel upset that he’s gone through your things and found it, but at the same time, a small part of you always hoped he’d find it. Maybe he’d finally understand your feelings, maybe he’d finally feel bad.

“I found it when I was looking for your insurance card,” he says quietly, folding the paper along its seams. “I didn’t mean to pry; I just saw what it said at the beginning, and I –” his voice gets thick as if he’s about to cry, and he cuts himself off.

“I wrote it after we planned your funeral.” Your words aren’t emotional; you’re just stating a fact. “I didn’t want to be caught off guard and have to write it once you were already gone.” Bucky drops his head and sucks in a shaky breath.

“Fuck.” A light knock on the door pulls your attention, and you clear your throat before telling them to come in.

A woman in a white coat walks in and heads straight for the sink, washing her hands. “Ah,” she breathes, giving you a once over. “It’s good to see you’re awake.” She dries her hands and walks to the side of your bed.

“She woke up a few minutes ago,” Bucky says to the woman, barely meeting her eyes.

“Good,” she replies before turning to face you. “My name is Dr. Jean Abbott. We briefly spoke before you fell asleep though I doubt you remember that.” You shake your head; you don’t remember it. “That’s to be expected. I’m just going to do a quick evaluation, and then we’ll talk about next steps.” You nod while Bucky shifts off the bed into the plastic chair beside you.

Dr. Abbott’s examination lasts only a few minutes, and when she’s done, she reports that everything looks good. You ask a few questions about what happened, if you’ll have permanent damage and the like, but Dr. Abbott assures you that despite how everything looks, you’ll be okay. In fact, you’ll be discharged by the end of the day. Bucky tries to fight her on that, insisting that you need to be monitored and taken care of for longer, but you remind him that hospitals are expensive and you probably can’t afford it.

Eventually, Bucky accepts that Dr. Abbott knows best and lets the woman get to her other patients. When she leaves, the air in the room shifts. She’d interrupted an emotional moment and provided a brief distraction, but with her gone, it all comes rushing back.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky says quietly, still sitting in the too-small hospital chair. “Fuck, I’m sorry.” You’re sitting upright, leaning against the plastic headboard of the bed, but despite your elevated position, you’re only a little bit higher than Bucky.

“Why are you sorry?” You can think of a few reasons why, but you want to hear it from him.

“Where do I even start?” He asks with a sarcastic laugh. “I’m sorry that you had to write a eulogy for my funeral. I’m sorry that I made you plan a funeral. I’m sorry that I stood you up when it counted. I’m sorry for being such an asshole.” He pauses and takes a deep breath, dropping his eyes from yours. When he returns your gaze, he continues. “I’m sorry for choosing work over you every time. That wasn’t fair to you. I should’ve told Sam no.”

Your heart thunders in your chest; it’s about to break out and fly away. Apologies don’t fix everything; they are bandaids on stab wounds. But they help a little, and with time and effort, you’ll heal.

You keep eye contact with Bucky as you shift yourself on the bed, swinging your legs down, so your toes brush the cold tile floor.

“Are you only apologizing because you saw the eulogy?” You need to know this isn’t just because he feels bad in this moment. This needs to be real.

“No.” His hand finishes like he’s about to touch you, but he holds himself back. “Ever since the day we broke up, I’ve been sorry. I was sorry when you helped me with my stitches. I was sorry when we went out to lunch every week. I was sorry every time I thought of you. Seeing the eulogy was the tipping point. I knew that I couldn’t let you go on not knowing.” Tears brim in his eyes, and you know he’s being genuine.

You reach out, and Bucky’s hand meets you halfway, gently gripping your fingers. That touch conveys more emotion than your words ever could. “Thank you.”

Three months later and the only reminder of your trip to the hospital is a scar on your head that’s fading fast. You don’t see much of Bucky outside of your weekly lunch meetings. You can tell he’s planning something; he’s fidgety and scatter-brained.

It isn’t until month four that you find out what he’s been hiding. After a particularly big bust of a weapons trafficking ring, Sam is speaking at a press conference. Bucky sits beside him, pensive and broody as ever. Sam answers questions charismatically, flashing his million-watt smile for the press. You’ve always thought the differences between Sam and Bucky are laughable, they’re two very different men, but they work so well together.

You’re watching the press conference on your TV, though you can’t seem to think of why you turned it on in the first place. The cameras pan to Bucky; someone must have asked him a question. He shifts closer to the microphone and clears his throat.

“Uh, yeah, this kind of thing isn’t isolated. It’s gonna take a long time to take them all out.” Bucky looks so uncomfortable, his eyes seek out something in the crowd, but when he doesn’t find it, he opts to just turn to Sam, who gives him a nod.

“Mr. Barnes, do you have a comment on–” The reporter doesn’t get to finish her question, getting cut off by Bucky raising his hand to silence her.

“I need to say something.” He looks straight into the camera, and you feel like he’s staring at you. “I’ve been going non-stop since 1941. I’ve lost a lot, and what I’ve gained I’ve managed to lose as well. I just wanted to put it out there that I’m done.” You furrow your brow as the press chatters, shouting more questions. A camera focuses on Sam, who just smiles.

“What do you mean, you’re done?” A reporter asks, shouting louder than the others.

“It means I’m done. I’m retired. There’s always something else, and I want to live my life for once. Good luck, Sam. It’s been good.” Bucky stands, gives an off-putting smile to the camera, then walks out of the camera’s line of sight.

Retired. You grab your computer and find that social media is already exploding with the news. “Bucky Barnes the Winter Soldier announces surprise retirement” is everywhere. People speculate why he’d retire; what did he mean when he said he’s lost what he’d gained?

A hurried knock on your door halts your search, but you have a feeling you’ll get some answers. When you open the door, Bucky Barnes greets you with puppy dog eyes and a gentle smile.

“Retired?” You ask, opening the door more so he can step inside. Instead of following you in, he stays in the hallway.

“Retired,” he replies, rocking on his heels.

“Why don’t you come inside?” Bucky shakes his head, and you notice his hands are behind his back. You raise an eyebrow, but he stands his ground.

“If it’s okay with you, I’d like to start over.” You tilt your head when he reveals a bouquet of flowers that he’d been hiding behind his back. They’re beautiful, light shades of pastels and full blooms.

“Bucky,” you say quietly, shocked by the gesture.

“I’m sorry if this is strange; I’m kinda rusty,” he says, repeating the words he’d said to you the first time he’d spoken to you. “My name is James Buchanan Barnes, and you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” A tear slips down Bucky’s cheek, and you know you’re not too far behind.

“How forward of you,” you say, just like you did all those years ago.

“Let me take you to dinner.” He places the flowers in your arms, and you shake your head.

“I don’t even know you, James Buchanan Barnes.” He smiles; it’s teary but hopeful.

“Well, let me fix that.” You step out into the hallway and walk down the stairs with him. You already know where he’s taking you. You know that over the next three weeks, he will send you flowers every day, he’ll write a sweet note on each one, and he’ll win your heart all over again.

Falling in love with Bucky Barnes will be different this time. You know more; you’re wiser. Nothing is promised, nothing is guaranteed, but for the first time in a long time, you’re ready to give it a shot.

People change, people grow. Maybe you and Bucky can grow together.

Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future works!

Series tags: @peaches1958 @scxrletrecsmarvel @prettylittlepluviophile @writerwrites @w0nderw0mansw0rld @thefandomplace @kotlclover2021 @alitterayof-pitchblack @littlebodybigbrain

general tags: @/peaches1958 @/scxrletrecsmarvel @/prettylittlepluviophile @/writerwrites @/w0nderw0mansw0rld @hawsx3

#jane's writing #you promised #I know #jane’s writing #bucky barnes angst #tfatws angst #tfatws bucky #tfatws bucky barnes #tfatws bucky x reader #tfatws bucky x f!reader #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x reader #James bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #marvel fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes marvel #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #the winter soldier x you #the winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier x yn #fem!reader #marvel fanfiction #the winter soldier fanfiction #James buchanan barnes #angst

[lokislastlove]

Sweat and Sacrifice (Soft!Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader) p2

Summary: You decide to meet face to face for the first time on Christmas at a football game, and it’s not what you expected.

Warnings: Dubcon, teasing, groping, sadly this chapter is smut-free (Steve is mad too don’t worry)

Notes: I had no idea y’all were gonna like this Steve, but I’m stoked. Hahaha thank you so much for encouraging me to continue. Will likely be a couple more chapters, I will try to write quickly. Can’t believe y’all got me posting shit before I finish the whole series. 😬❤️

Part 1 Here

🏈

He leaves you abruptly as your emotions threaten to bubble over. Shocked, doesn’t seem quite substantial enough to describe how you feel. You feel violated, but you can’t seem to rationalize why. Every argument that springs to mind to explain your unease is instantly shot down by that other ‘little voice’. The one all girls have after years of being blamed for their traumas.

He lied. Or was he just being cautious? He manipulated you. Or was he just trying to be romantic? He forced himself on you. Or did you send him mixed signals? You did grab his hair, and you were the only one who got to orgasm.

You slide off the counter and search for your clothes. You quickly pull on your pants, your brain shifting to autopilot as the little voice smothers your outrage. Guilt and regret eat at your insides as you grab a bottle of wine from the counter, taking a generous swig as you curl into the corner of the couch.

Peter returns some time later to find you staring blankly at the black screens as you sip silently. He helps himself to a plate of snacks and joins you in the couch, completely oblivious to your apathy.

“Oh, shit. Sorry! I should have just left it on for you,” he apologizes as he scrambles for the remote and turns on all the TVs.

You flinch as Steve’s face stares back at you, smiling and confident as he whispers to his teammates before the next play. You take a larger gulp, the alcohol dulling your emotions as you watch the game and get steadily more drunk.

“Uh, should you be getting that?” Peter asks, drawing your attention to your phone vibrating the coffee table.

You stare at your dads picture as it lights up the screen and shake your head. There is no way you are ready for that conversation. The picture disappears and adds another marker to the dozens of missed calls and texts.

“I don’t know what to say to them yet,” you mumble and hiccup.

“Hey,” Peter says hesitantly, “how about we switch to water and maybe eat a little something.”

He takes the wine bottle from you gently and you scowl at him, but let it go. He hands you a plate of food and in your drunken haze you pick at it lazily. The salty crunch is such a simple pleasure and you focus on it until Peter plops down again and offers you another plate.

“You gotta try these cupcakes, the frosting is just – mmm,” he hums in delight as he takes a bite.

You blanch as your stomach rolls and you quickly cover your mouth. Springing to your feet, you run to the private bathroom and barely make it to the sink as the accumulated stress of the day washes down the drain. After you empty your stomach and the blood rushes to your head you feel a sense of clarity, sobering you up a bit as you quickly clean yourself up and rejoin Peter.

“Are you okay? Or – uh… can I get you anything?”

You wave him off and grab a bottle of water, “I’ll be fine, I think I really am going to go though, I’ll call Steve after the game.”

You grab your purse from the counter and move toward the door but Peter is quick to block you.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t let you do that,” he says in a soft but serious voice.

“It’s not really your decision. Now, please get out of my way,” you push past him and reach for the handle.

His hand latches onto yours as you try to twist and you scoff, “Peter, what the hell are you doing?”

“You can’t leave,” he implores with those same puppy dog eyes.

“Peter,” you warn, “let go.”

He removes his hand, but stumbles for an excuse, “you shouldn’t be driving after all you’ve had to drink.”

You angrily yank open the door, “I’m a big girl, I can handle myself.”

You turn to leave but run into a brick wall of a man, his arms crossed tightly across his chest as he fixes you with a frightening glare. His dark hair, thick brows and stubbled angular jaw give him a menacing look as his veins bulge along his thick muscular arms. The tight black shirt reveals the same commitment to fitness on the rest of him as he takes a step toward you, herding you back into the room.

You back up in fear, and he grabs the handle and throws Peter a warning look before closing the door without a word.

“Who the hell is that?” You look back at Peter who shifts nervously.

“Yeah, uh, that’s Brock. He’s the head of security,” he replies, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Security? Why do I need security?”

Peter hesitates, his internal struggle displayed plainly across his face, “look, Cap just told us to make sure you don’t leave. He must have known you’d get freaked out and maybe he’s afraid you’ll try to ghost him or something. I just know he made me promise to make sure you would be here for him after the game.”

“So I’m trapped here until Steve says otherwise?” You scoff.

He blows out a long breath, “well it sounds kind of messed up when you say it like that. I’m not trying to upset you, I just - I just really can’t lose this job. Please.”

Your jaw clenches as you stare at him, part of you wants to leave, you don’t owe this kid anything… but the other part of you feels guilty at the thought of ruining his life just so you can go sit at home alone an hour early.

You sigh, “dammit Peter. Fine. But once I see Steve, I’m telling him this whole thing is fucked, and I’m gone.”

He nods, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make this harder for you. I was just trying to help.”

You drag your feet back to the couch, comforted to see the clock tick down to the final two minutes of the game. Steve is a machine, carrying his team to a dominating victory. The crowd outside the window cheers so loud the glass rattles on the overpriced coffee table and you gorge on the bowl of candies Peter offers you.

Peter sits in silence, afraid to make you any angrier while you fume at the scene on screen. Steve jogs gracefully over to the camera, barely winded with a few perfectly placed strands of tussled hair on his dewy brow.

“Here he is, the MVP of the evening… we’ll let’s be honest you’re always the MVP aren’t you, Rogers?” The newscaster flirts.

Steve let’s out a shy laugh but before he can answer one of his teammates pushes into frame, “he ain’t the only stud on the field, doll.”

He laughs as the brunette tosses his long hair back and hooks his arm around Steves neck, pulling him close to kiss his cheek before winking at the interviewer and running off.

The flustered newscaster blushes and attempts to recover, “so what’s your secret, Rogers? Give your fans a tip for success at Christmas.”

“I don’t know if it’s a secret but whenever I want something I go all in. Can’t hold anything back, ya know? I keep to that old football motto, ‘sweat and sacrifice equals success’,” He affirms seriously.

She smiles, completely smitten, “But that second half was incredible! Five touchdowns! Two of them you ran for yourself!”

“Well, I admit I did have a special halftime treat that gave me a real boost,” he smirks and winks at the camera.

“Oh! So you do have secrets after all. Care to share?” She holds the mic up a bit closer to his face.

He smiles, eyes twinkling, “sorry, that’s one I’m keeping all for myself.”

You swallow hard as you subconsciously push yourself further into the couch, heat rising to your face as you avoid Peters eye. You clear your throat and cross your legs to keep them from bouncing nervously. Thankfully he soon makes a quick exit and they show him run off the field, tossing a few things out to fans along the way.

Peter turns off the TVs and stands up to face you, at the same time a pounding knock on the door makes you flinch.

“Time to go,” Peter says softly as he offers you his hand.

You stand up on your own, hands buried in your pockets as you let Brock and Peter escort you through the facility. You swallow your sass after Brock’s first warning. All it takes is a terse, “no” and you shut up for good. Even as he grips your arm a bit too tight, manhandling you through the crowd and past a keycard-required door. The heavy door cuts off the buzzing swarm of excited fans as they mob the exits.

The silence of the private hall is deafening as your anxiety causes your heart rate to skyrocket. You feel like a child being dragged to the principals office for some unknown offense.

At the end of the first hall the pristine blue carpet diverges into two paths, to the left you hear the boisterous masculine roar of the team as they celebrate the victory, but thankfully Brock points you right. You make it half way down the hall before Brock stops you with a clipped whistle and opens up a door for you.

“Wait here. I’ll be right back,” he huffs, storming off back toward the loud locker room door.

You look to Peter, who nods with a smile, reaching past you to flick on the light to a meeting room of sorts. Long empty tables and expensive office chairs face a large white board and projector screen on the opposite wall.

“It shouldn’t take long, he already refused the post-game interviews so I’m sure he’s eager to see you,” he attempts to comfort you.

“I just want to go home,” you mutter tiredly as you cross your arms and step inside.

Peter sighs quietly, his brows tilting in sympathy, “Merry Christmas,” he mutters with a sad smile as he salutes goodbye and ducks out of the room, the soft click of the door shutting behind him.

You listen to his light footsteps recede and a silence follows, the muffled sound of voices through the thick walls your only companion. Everyone relishing in the victory, enjoying the merriment of the holiday, while a storm rages within you.

Why are you waiting here for that man? The man who put you through this rollercoaster of a day, without a hint of warning. The same man who prevented you from leaving, who is STILL preventing you from leaving, because somehow his fragile ego outweighs your autonomy. That spite burst back to life as your patience wains. Fuck this. You’re going home.

You turn back to the door and go to leave, but the handle resists. You push harder but it doesn’t budge, they locked you in.

“Hey!” You shout, jarring the handle angrily, “fuckers.”

You push away with a huff and wander the room. Fighting the boredom, you shuffle through the stack of memos and stray paperwork left out on desk at the head of the room. A meeting schedule with lists of players who need to attend, hardly riveting information, yet you jump and pull your hand away sharply when the door suddenly opens.

“Mmm cupcake,” Steve smirks from the doorway.

Good god, he’s huge. Even now, without the padding, his tight workout shirt clings tightly to his bicep, accentuating each perfectly chiseled muscle of his arms and shoulders. He leaves the door open wide as he struts toward you, his thin sweatpants hang low on his hips and reveal his excitement.

You don’t even realize you are backing away until you hit the white board behind you and he is quick to swallow you in his embrace.

“This is the best Christmas ever,” he hums into your hair as he squeezes you tightly and sways you back and forth.

You are once again at a loss for words, trapped in his over eager bear hug, it’s all you can do to hold your breath and wait for it to end. He lets out a long happy sigh and releases you, setting you back on your feet. You grab your coat and pull it tighter around you as you try to step back and get a bit of distance. The size difference, especially up close, is disarming and all that anger that had been raging seeps out of you as you look up at him in awe.

“Did you miss me?” he asks as he runs a finger along your jaw.

You jerk your face away as that salacious glint appears in his eye and you move away, rounding the table to keep a barrier between you, not that a folding table is much of a deterrent.

“What’s the matter?”

You scoff and throw your hands up, “this, Steve! You kept me locked up here like some animal.”

“I came as fast as I could, I left all my teammates so I could come see you,” he rounds the table and you shuffle farther back.

“Steve, just -please,” you hold up a hand, “give me some space.”

He laughs and shakes his head, “we’ve already had plenty of that… which is the whole point of today, isn’t it? … to finally put an end to all this space between us.”

His argument gives you pause and you soften under his sweet smile and the way he takes another slow cautious step toward you.

“I’m sorry they locked you in here, but it smells way better than the locker room right now, trust me,” he jokes.

Emboldened by the faintest smile curling your lips, he takes a larger step forward until he’s only a couple feet away. There’s a brief silence where you try to come up with something to say and he amuses over each of your nervous ticks.

“I hate that you feel so uncomfortable, but I admit I could watch you squirm like this for hours… would be way more entertaining than what I actually spend time doing in this room,” he chatters.

“Yeah I can imagine it gets boring – studying old footage all the time,” you offer, ignoring the first half of his comment.

“Oh you have no idea,” he agrees. “Most of the time I spend it secretly messaging you, though. So I guess it could be worse.”

You finally meet his eye and he grins, “oh yeah, you have been a real life savor.”

That face could melt butter, which is exactly how you feel as he flashes you those perfect teeth, his thick lashes fluttering bashfully as he takes that final step toward you.

“I’ve really enjoyed talking to you too, Steve,” you admit, “but…”

He cuts you off when he spins you and faces you back toward the coaches desk at the front of the room. He pulls your ass against him with a strong hand on your hip while his other hand smooths over your chest, pinning you to him. You gasp at the unexpected change of position and a shiver runs down your back as his hot breath fans down your neck.

“Everyday I spent looking at that desk, imagining it was you up there giving us lessons. Maybe then I’d actually pay attention,” he chuckles into your warm skin. “My favorite is when you call me up to the front and let me show all my teammates what a real champion looks like. I’ve bent you over that desk so many times in my head,” he growls as you feel his arousal grow against your back.

You pull at his hands and he starts to nibble your neck, “Steve,” you moan weakly as he hits that perfect spot, and you struggle harder to get away.

“For all we know, we could have put on quite a show already – up there in that box,” he whisper huskily and you freeze. “But I just couldn’t help myself, it’s been months of teasing and I just had to have you.”

“Steve, no… b-but what if someone saw?” You cry as the regret fills you once again.

“Don’t act like you didn’t like it, I know you did. You are just as eager as I am. You sent me to bed with that picture, remember? … mmm, what was it you said? – you couldn’t wait to get your hands on me,” he reminds you of your drunken lust-filled evening after a whole day of him flirting with you.

You can’t deny that before today you thought you had been ready for anything. Months of all talk without any physical touch had you practically feral – damn hormones.

“I’m not saying I don’t - I’m not denying…“ you stutter as he works his way to the ticklish spot where your neck meets your shoulder.

“Shhh, it’s ok. I know,” he interrupts again, hand finding it’s way under your jacket to expertly palm at your breasts over your shirt.

You let out a shocked gasp followed by a moan as he leans over you, making you feel small and vulnerable as his touch gets more insistent.

“See, this is how this room should be used,” a strangers voice intrudes from the open doorway.

Steve chuckles darkly as he lifts his head to peer over his shoulder, “Buck,” he greets, “timely as always.”

You push out of his arms and quickly adjust your clothes, clearing your throat in embarrassment. You step away from Steve and cross your arms, “hi.”

Bucky smirks as he eyes you, “nice to finally meet the mystery girl. I’ve heard, probably too much, about you.”

He laughs at the way your brow furrows in concern, and Steve silently waves off your fears.

“Come on, Buck. Don’t scare her away,” Steve scolds as he comes over and curls his arm around your shoulders.

Bucky holds up his hands in surrender, “I just came to let you know that your ride is here.”

You shuffle awkwardly under the weight of Steve’s massive arm as Bucky’s gaze runs up and down your body, his tongue poking out to wet his lip.

“Yeah yeah, we’re coming,” Steve concedes and gestures Bucky out the door, who leaves with a sardonic smile. You move to follow but Steve keeps you close, squeezing your shoulder to whisper in your ear, “we’ll have to revisit this little fantasy later, huh?”

You eye the desk on your way out of the room, thankful to have an excuse to leave. You have a strong feeling had Bucky not barged in Steve would have had you bent over that table within minutes, regardless of discretion or your apprehension.

“But what about my car?” You ask as Steve escorts you to a blacked out suburban in a rapidly darkening back street.

“Come on, Cupcake. This is the part I’ve been waiting months for… to actually spend some time together,” he cajoles, holding both of your hands in earnest. “You can’t possibly expect me to be satisfied with a brief, though undeniably delicious, half time.”

You grimace at the nickname, but feel a twinge of guilt as you recognize the truth in his words. Even though it’s been a long day, you haven’t really had time alone to talk and you feel as though you owe him at least that.

“Where are you taking me?” You ask, raising a brow curiously before you climb in.

He simply beams in response, “you’re gonna love it.”

tags: @darkficsyouneveraskedfor​ @caffiend-queen​ @queenoftheworldisdead​ @buttercupfangirl​ @needleandhammer​ @thiskindahotkindamusic​ @lokiswildheartcantbebroken​ @patzammit​ @maluisamarvelfan123​ @yellow-winds​

#softdark!Steve Rogers #he creeps on ya #Sweat and Sacrifice #Dubcon #marvel #Football AU #Steve Rogers x Reader #Christmas fic #happyhoelidays2021

[mjolnir-steve]

Foolish

Frank Adler x fem!Reader

Word count: 5027 (oop)

Warnings: light drinking, very brief mention of suicide, some cursing, smut (18+ ONLY!!!), unprotected sex (m/f) ... Please let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: Hi, y’all! Here’s my entry for @stargazingfangirl18 and @navybrat817’s Shameless Hoes for Chris Challenge!!!! I haven’t written smut in a LONG time, so please be gentle with me LOL. Here’s what I got:

Frank Adler

“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.”

Breeding / mutual pining 🥴

I’d like to dedicate this to @rodrikstark for always sharing the Frank Adler feels and @sparkledfirecracker for bullying me (with love) into finishing this. ❤️

If you like this fic, please comment and reblog!!! I hope you enjoy. :)

Fridays never seemed to come soon enough. You looked forward to the beginning of the weekend as much as the next person, but over the last few months, Friday nights took on new meaning for you. You moved to the trailer park a little less than a year ago, wanting to buy a small place of your own and start making a home for yourself. It wasn’t perfect, but it wasn’t expensive, and it was only a ten-minute drive from your office where you’d just secured a promotion. Roberta, the manager, helped you make it feel like home right away, insisting on going with you to pick out paint samples and providing copies of menus for the best take-out in the area.

Before long, Roberta introduced you to the trailer park’s resident certified genius, Mary Adler. Mary and Roberta spent Saturday mornings with you when you were free, which unfortunately, was pretty much all the time. You played games, sang karaoke, and even let Mary’s one-eyed cat Fred come over. He took a liking to your swinging chair in the living room, and if Mary couldn’t find him at home, odds were he somehow squeezed through your window and ended up in that chair. 

Another two months had passed, though, before you met Mary’s uncle and guardian, Frank. You came to learn that Mary stayed with Roberta every Friday night because “Frank needs time to be an adult” and she was not allowed to come back to the house until noon on Saturdays. This information made you feel like Frank must be some kind of sad, perpetual fuckboy. You were right about the sad part, not so much about the latter. One morning while Mary played with your watercolors, Roberta let slip - ironically over a cup of tea - that Frank did have the occasional hookup, but usually, he drank himself sleepy on Friday nights and just needed the time to himself. He worked himself to the bone as a boat mechanic, often late into the night because it was too hot to do some jobs during the day. Frank took Mary in when she was just a baby after his sister, her mother, tragically committed suicide. He spent the majority of his scarce free time with Mary, so when Mary was still a toddler, Roberta offered the Friday night deal. Frank countered that he would do any repairs in the trailer park for free, but she refused to let him do that work without pay, saying he deserved to have a life, too. 

She also informed you that Frank was a former philosophy professor, single, and very attractive, especially if you were into the rugged thing. You rolled your eyes with an amused exhale and took another sip of your tea. You’d be lying if you said your interest wasn’t piqued. Mary then shouted over her shoulder, confirming that she’d been listening to your entire conversation, “Frank is great, but he’s a grump. Good luck cracking that egg.” You snorted, nearly spitting out your tea, and she went back to reading your color theory book to Fred.

With that, you heard a sharp rap at the door. You set your tea down on the kitchen table, curious who your visitor might be. You didn’t know anyone else in the trailer park, or in town, really. You opened the door, taking in the sight of possibly - no, definitely - the most handsome man you’d ever seen. You quickly guessed it was Frank, judging by the grease smeared on his quite large hands. His eyes, though tired, had the same bright look as Mary’s, and he had the most perfectly imperfect fluffy hair and overgrown stubble.

“Good morning,” he said with a sweet, closed-mouthed smile. “Is Mary here?”

You had to remind yourself to breathe. Stammering, you opened the door wider, gesturing inside. “Hi, y-yes. She is!” Why am I like this? “She’s just painting with Fred. Please, come in.” You moved aside so he could fit his broad shoulders through the doorframe and then held out your hand. “You must be Frank. I’m Y/N. Mary is just wonderful.” You smiled at him, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks.

He took your hand in both of his, gentler than you’d expected. “I’m sorry. Yes, I’m Frank. It’s great to meet you, finally.” He smiled wide for the first time and you were certain you’d pass out. Who LOOKS like this? “And thank you, she really is wonderful. I couldn’t do it without Roberta. She’s family.” He smiled and waved at Roberta, who was looking at you over the lip of her mug.

Mary didn’t even bother to turn around and face Frank. “What are you doing here, Frank? It’s only 11. I have a whole ‘nother hour with my friends.” You tried to keep your laugh quiet, covering your mouth with your hand and shaking your head.

“Well, excuse me for thinking you might like to go out on the boat with me this morning. I guess I’ll go by myself.”

Mary jumped up from the floor, scrambling to clean up your paints and books. “Can Y/N and Roberta come?”

Frank crouched down to meet Mary’s eyes. “Of course they can, if they’d like.” He looked back at you over his shoulder, trying to gauge your interest, then turning back to his niece. “But do you remember what I told you?”

You could see that Mary was making a conscious effort not to roll her eyes. “You told me that my adult friends have adult lives that include adult responsibilities, and they might not always be available to spend time with me.”

“And?” he looked at her expectantly.

“And I need to invite them to do things without assuming they will do them.” She couldn’t hold back her eye roll any longer, but she made sure not to let Frank see. “Roberta, Y/N, would you both like to join us on the boat today?”

You were amazed by the exchange taking place in front of you, able to see where some of Mary’s brains and tenacity came from. The conversation between the two flowed so easily, playful yet intelligent. It was clear that Frank treated Mary not as a child, but as a person, and you chided yourself internally for thinking that was kinda hot. 

Shaking yourself out of your mildly inappropriate thoughts, you responded. “I’d love to come, Mary.” You smiled at her, bending over to help her pick up the last of the paints from the floor. “Roberta?”

Roberta gave you a look and you just knew she planned this somehow. “I actually do have some of those adult responsibilities to handle today, but thank you for inviting me.” You sent a glare in her direction, quick but no less scathing. “Maybe next time.” She winked at you before washing out her mug and saying her goodbyes.

You spent the whole rest of the day and night with Frank and Mary, doing everything from building sandcastles to cooking dinner together. Mary eventually fell asleep in your lap as you were watching Oliver & Company, Frank’s favorite Disney film that had become Mary’s, too. “An underrated classic,” they told you in unison.

You helped Frank put Mary to bed, a task made easier after such a tiring day. “I guess I should get going.” You stood awkwardly in the small kitchen, unsure of yourself and painfully aware of how close your hand was to Frank’s resting on the counter.

“Yeah, I have a job early in the morning.” He looked down at his shoes, unable to look you in the eye, and you wondered if he hadn’t found your company as enjoyable as you’d found his.

“Listen, I don’t know if you’ve been to Ferg’s? The little bar down the road? I go every Friday night just to relax and have a few beers. Maybe you’d like to come with me next weekend?”

Is he asking me on a date? You could feel your heartbeat racing. The look on your face must not have matched the excitement you felt at the prospect of spending time alone with the dreamy, kind, sarcastic man in front of you. 

He felt like an idiot when you hesitated to answer. He clearly read everything wrong. He had to fix this. “It’s a good place to meet people, you know? I know you’re fairly new to the area, so if you’re looking for more local friends, it’s a good place to start.” He winced, hoping you couldn’t sense his embarrassment at thinking that you would want to go on a date with him.

You swallowed, trying not to let your disappointment show outwardly. Of course he’s not interested in me. Stupid. “Oh, yeah! That would be great, Frank. What time?”

Frank let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, relieved that you didn’t seem offended by his offer. “How’s 7? I’ll pick you up? We can walk over together.”

And that’s how Fridays came to mean so much to you. Almost every Friday for the last six months, Frank met you at your door and you walked to Ferg’s together. Frank told you it would be a good place to make new friends, but you paid no mind to the other patrons. You only had eyes for each other, yet neither of you could see it, even though Roberta pointed out (repeatedly) that neither of you had taken anyone else home in all that time.

The more time you spent with Frank, the more certain you were that God was real and your life was His favorite trainwreck reality TV series. Even if you could have customized a dream man Build-A-Bear style, Frank still would blow your creation out of the water. He was smart and funny, not to mention an adoring parent to Mary, to whom you grew more attached each day. He was kind and thoughtful, talented and hard-working. Although he was a grouch, as Mary would say, he always was sweet to you. He took a genuine interest in anything you had to say, whether you were venting about work or filling him on the latest episode of whatever show you were binging. He was ridiculously sexy without even trying. All those hours he spent doing manual labor in the sun did wonders for his physique. You’d only seen him completely shirtless on one occasion, and the image of him with sweat dripping down his chest was burned into your memory, fueling your late-night thots and causing you to break out your vibrator on what was now a regular basis.

Six months had come and gone in the blink of an eye, and you’d begun to accept that Frank didn’t want to be anything more than friends with you. You decided tonight was as good a night as any to talk to someone new, to start letting go of your unrequited feelings. 

You swapped out your usual jeans for a sundress, t-shirt bra for a push-up, and lip balm for lipstick. Putting your phone and some cash in a wristlet, you considered wearing your new strappy sandals. The walk to Ferg’s was about five minutes each way down a sandy road, though, and memories of the sticky floor inside aided your preferred pair of Converse in their victory for the night. 

Just as you finished tying your shoes, you heard a knock at the door. You adjusted your cleavage and fluffed your hair a final time with one last look in the mirror. Here goes.

Frank felt like he had the wind knocked out of him in the best possible way. He suddenly felt entirely underdressed in his aloha shirt, even though it was his go-to for nights out of the house. He’d never seen you dressed so nicely when you weren’t going to work. 

You were the kind of beautiful that didn’t require makeup. Your natural hair always framed your face perfectly, even if you didn’t think so. He thought you were adorable when you were concentrating on something, blowing your hair out of your face with a huff. Visions of your soft curves made their way into Frank’s dreams on more than one occasion. He had seen you in your swimsuit several times, sunbathing with Roberta and swimming with Mary at the beach. It wasn’t even all that revealing, but it accentuated your figure in ways that forced Frank into needing a cold shower or two. Above all, though, he admired your heart. You’d allowed Mary into your life without hesitation, spending time with her because you wanted to and allowing her to ask all those questions that Frank just wouldn’t be able to answer. It killed him that you didn’t see him the way he saw you, a perfect partner for him and a worthy maternal figure for Mary.

“Frank? You okay?” Your concerned voice shook him out of his thoughts, prompting him to close his mouth which apparently had opened wide in astonishment when you stood in the doorway.

“Yeah, um... You look…” He looked a little confused, his brow furrowed and lips pursed. “Why are you all dolled up? It’s only Ferg’s.” He wished he could’ve kicked himself in the teeth when your face fell at his question. He rubbed a hand over his face. “Shit. Let me try that again,” he nearly begged, running up to you to stop you from going back inside. “You look really nice, honey.” He ran his calloused hand up your forearm, but quickly returned it to his side when he realized what he’d done. “Is it a special occasion, though? Should I change?”

You gave him a watery smile, given that you were three seconds from slamming the door in his face and crying. “That’s better. Thank you.” You lightly pushed at his shoulder, trying and failing to ignore the electricity you felt at the contact. “No occasion, though. Just thought maybe it was about time I actually introduced myself to someone new.” 

You couldn’t quite read his reaction. Little did you know he was certain he just felt his heart physically crack in his chest. “What do you mean?”

The two of you started walking, the tension between you thickening the very air you breathed. “Well, when you first invited me to Ferg’s, you said maybe I’d get to know some other people in the area, right? But we’re always with each other. I’m sure you’re itching to talk to someone other than me. I don’t want to hold you back.”

“Ah. Gotcha.” Frank abruptly reverted to the quiet, distant state he usually occupied before he met you. He sped up a bit, walking ahead of you and desperately attempting to school his features before you caught up with him.

Frank practically ran to the restroom, not slowing down even to hold the door open for you. You took a deep breath and rolled your shoulders, relaxing before entering the bar. Normally, whoever made it first would order drinks for you both, but Frank made it painfully clear that he had no desire to be in your company tonight. You ordered your usual, an Angry Orchard with a shot of Fireball in a tall glass. The combination tasted like apple cider, but the burn in your throat was caused by liquor rather than heat. It was strong enough to get you buzzed, but not so strong that you’d be stumbling home. You swallowed half the glass in one gulp, wanting to feel the warmth in your veins boosting your confidence as quickly as possible.

“Y/N? How are you?” You turned around, eyes meeting those of Jamie, your coworker. He leaned in for a hug and you accepted somewhat reluctantly, having interacted with him only in passing.

“Hey! I’m all right. What’s up?” You smiled at him, taking another sip of your drink. Jamie was not very subtly staring at your chest. You weren’t crazy about him, but the attention felt nice, so you allowed it.

“Not much. Just happy it’s Friday, ya know?” He looked around for a moment before returning his attention to you. “You’re usually here with that mechanic dude, right?”

You stifled a laugh thinking about how Frank would react if he heard himself referred to as “dude” by this prick. “Yeah, he’s around somewhere. We’re just-“

“-Just friends?” he finished for you with a hopeful look.

You nodded in response, looking him up and down. He was no Frank, but you couldn’t deny he was handsome. It had been so long since you’d even been kissed, and though you hated to admit it, you were touch-starved. One night couldn’t hurt, could it?

Meanwhile, Frank was splashing his face with cool water. He couldn’t believe he’d fucked up so royally. He was sure you didn’t want him how he wanted you, and now he was sure it was too late to tell you how he really felt.

He knew from the moment he saw you that he’d never get you out of his head. Roberta had been talking you up to Frank for weeks, but he wanted no part of it, mumbling something about there being “a reason why no one used matchmakers anymore.” He had no choice but to make your acquaintance when he was looking for Mary, and he’d never been so happy that Roberta could say she told him so.

Later that day at the beach, Mary approached him while you were dozing on a towel in the sand. She sat on his lap and reached for his face, using her pointer fingers to turn the straight line of his mouth up into a smile. “Roberta says you have a ‘charming’ smile, Frank. We think you should use it more.” He chuckled quietly, careful not to disturb you, and pulled Mary in close, planting a wet kiss on her cheek. She grimaced at the feeling, dramatically wiping at her face until he let her go back to reading with Fred.

The sound of the jukebox starting up cut short his reverie. He had to get out there and explain himself. Frank dried his face and hands with a paper towel before smacking his cheeks and stretching his neck back and forth to each shoulder. 

Frank exited the restroom only to find some douchebag staring at your ass as you leaned over toward the bar. He saw red when the piece of shit held out his hand behind his back while his friend slipped a twenty-dollar bill into it, seemingly winning some sort of bet.

Jamie didn’t stand a chance when Frank stormed in between the two of you. “That’s IT,” he yelled, so intense he borderline bellowed. He threw whatever cash he had in his pocket on the bar to pay for your drinks before he pulled you outside, almost getting to your door while you fought against his grip. He only stopped when you spun your body around like something out of Dancing with the Stars and jumped in front of him, forcing him to catch you.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N, what are y-”

“-What are YOU doing, Frank? What the fuck was that?” You put your feet back down on the ground but remained facing him, arms crossed over your chest.

He groaned in frustration, suddenly realizing he actually had no clue how to respond. “Fuck.”

You looked at him, tapping your foot in anticipation.

“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.” He rubbed at his temples in the way he did when he felt a headache coming on.

“And how was he looking at me, Frank? What does it matter to you?”

“He was looking at you like you were a piece of meat and I… FUCK!”

You both turned when your neighbor opened his window. “Can you kids keep it down out here?”

You waved bashfully at the old man. “Sorry, Mr. Parker,” you said in unison.

“Come inside, Frankie.” The nickname that typically made him roll his eyes at you never had sounded sweeter, now that its use confirmed you didn’t hate him for the scene he made. You both toed off your shoes at the door before you made your way into the living room, motioning for him to sit next to you on the couch when he tried to sit in the armchair across the room.

You leaned forward, pinching his chin between your thumb and forefinger. “Now what’s going on in that sun-damaged brain of yours?”

He let out a laugh so soft you almost missed it, but you were glad you didn’t. Sitting back against the arm of the couch, you pulled a pillow into your lap and hugged it, giving Frank your full attention.

Frank cleared his throat, doing his best to accept that it was now or never. “That guy was leering at you, and it pissed me off. You deserve better, Y/N.” He pried your fingers from where they were locked around the pillow to hold your hands in his.

“If you want to meet new people, that’s great. If you don’t want to be with me, that’s a little less great, but I’d understand. He didn’t even pay for your drinks. And I th-”

You covered his mouth with one of your hands, and he knitted his brows in confusion. “You’re making it sound like it’s an option to be with you.” You were in disbelief, side-eyeing him, waiting for Ashton Kutcher to announce that you were, in fact, being Punk’d. 

The corners of his mouth lifted into the soft smile he reserved for you. It was the same one he gave you whether you were on a tangent about how “Obsessed” by Mariah Carey is “the single greatest diss track of all time” or you were helping Mary put a harness and leash on Fred “just to see how he’d do” on a walk.

“For a distinguished professor, you’re kind of a dummy, Frank.” You took his face in your hands, thrilled to be feeling his stubble against your palms. Before he could talk back to you, you kissed him, unsure how you denied yourselves such a simple yet extraordinary pleasure for so long. It only took a moment for him to relax into it, his hands removing the pillow between you before finding your waist and pulling you almost into his lap.

You deepened the kiss, threading your fingers through his hair. He pulled away first, pressing his forehead to yours. “Seems like we’re both dummies, huh?” 

You were going to ask why pulled away until you looked down to see a considerable tent forming in the front of his jeans. You laughed as he pulled you into a tight hug, one arm wrapped around you while the other hand held your face against his neck.

You kissed the side of his neck softly before leaning back to look at him. “All this time? I thought you didn’t see me this way.” You held his face, stroking his cheeks with your thumbs. “You asked me to go to Ferg’s and then said I could meet other people, so I thought that was it, you know?”

He covered your hands with his and pecked your lips softly. “Honey, I thought it was the other way around. I was trying to ask you out and you looked like you’d seen a ghost.” You giggled, spluttering a bit because tears had started falling at some point. He wiped your tears away before swiping his thumb over your bottom lip, pulling it down a bit. “We’re fools, aren’t we?”

You nodded slowly and Frank saw something wicked flash in your eyes before you took his thumb in your mouth, sucking lightly. “Jesus, honey.” His length hardened underneath you and you could feel the wetness beginning to pool in your panties, prompting you to grind down into his lap.

You released his thumb from your mouth, pressing your chest into his before kissing him again. “I think we’re only fools if we don’t take advantage of the rest of your adult time.” You removed your dress easily, returning your hands to Frank’s shoulders to push off his shirt.

He surged forward to kiss you again, working magic with his tongue against yours. You wrapped your legs around his waist and he picked you up, walking you into the bedroom. Placing you on the bed carefully, he removed your bra and panties before pulling off his boxers and jeans in one go. You thought you wanted him before, but now that you could see everything he’d been hiding under his baggy clothes, you didn’t see how you could ever let him leave your bedroom.

The next few minutes were spent exploring each other’s mouths while Frank stretched you with his fingers. You didn’t think you’d ever been so wet in your life and thought you might pass out if you didn’t feel him inside you immediately. You gave his cock a few strokes before sliding his head through your folds, coating him in your slick.

“Waitwaitwait, honey. Do you have a condom?”

“You don’t need one if you don’t want one. It’s okay.”

He looked like you just gave him tomorrow’s winning lotto numbers, taking a deep breath to steady himself before he looked at you again. “Oh, God. Are you sure?”

“Mhm. I wanna feel you. Make me yours?”

“Anything you want, honey, but if you change your mind, just tell me, okay?” He lined himself up, seconds shy of entering you for the first time.

“I figured if you were gonna be possessive of me tonight, you might as well take it the whole nine, Frankie.” You laughed as he let out an exasperated sigh. “Seriously, though, I’m clean, I’m on the pill, and I’ve wanted you for a long time.” You reached up to scratch lightly through his chest hair.

“The only thing I wanna hear right now is you moaning for me.” He drove into you harshly, but waited a moment for you to adjust once he was seated to the hilt. “So damn wet and tight for me, honey. You’re so perfect, so beautiful.” He kissed you again before he began to move, slowly but surely making you lose your mind.

He dipped his head down to take one nipple in his mouth, then the other, effectively shutting you up and emptying all thoughts from your head. He nipped at the swell of your breast, soothing the bite with his tongue. “Fuck, Frank, please!”

“Please what, honey?” He picked up his pace, fucking into you so vigorously you moved up the bed. “Tell me what you need.”

“Make me cum, Frank. Please, baby, I need it. Need you,” you cried, leaning up to bite into his shoulder, stifling your moans.

“I wanna hear you, Y/N. I wanna hear those pretty moans while I’m making this perfect pussy cum for me.” The combination of his filthy words and the sight of him sucking on his own fingers before rubbing at your clit sent you over the edge, making you scream his name over and over again for what felt like forever and not long enough.

You could tell he was close, his hips stuttering and losing their rhythm. He began to pull out, unsure if you were willing to let him finish inside you, but knowing he was too close to wait for an answer.

You hooked your legs around his waist and pulled him close, pushing him back into you. “Fill me up, Frank. I wanna feel all of you. Please give it to me,” you whimpered. His release triggered another for you, chanting each other’s names surely loud enough for the neighbors to hear. 

He stayed inside you as you both came down from your shared high, gingerly flipping you over so he laid on his back with you on his chest. He kissed the top of your head, fingers fluttering up and down your sides. 

“What’s on your mind now, Frankie?” You looked up at him through your lashes, mildly terrified of the answer.

He looked down at you with the most adoration you’d ever seen, lifting your chin so your eyes met his in the moonlight. “That wasn’t too soon, was it? You mean so much to me and to Mary. I don’t wanna mess this up. I don’t ever wanna hurt you. You’re the best thing in my life besides Mary, you know that?”

You kissed his chest before looking back up at him, smiling. “First of all, I would argue that wasn’t soon enough.” He hissed as you clenched around his still softening cock inside you.

“You’re evil.”

Winking at him, you continued tracing patterns on his chest with your fingers. “Second, that all kinda sounds like you might be in love with me, Frank Adler.”

His hands stopped moving for a second before he responded. “Would you run away if I said I am?”

“Well, I wouldn’t run away. This is my house.” You thought your heart might explode in your chest.

“I didn’t even say it, but I take it back,” he huffed, throwing his arm over his eyes.

“What if I told you I felt the same way?”

He grinned, sitting up to kiss you feverishly on your cheeks, the tip of your nose, and finally your lips. You could feel him starting to harden again inside you, leading to round two of… well, you lost count.

You ate breakfast and showered together in time for Frank to return home before Mary did, agreeing to talk more later and to hold out on Roberta for a while.

Frank stood on your doorstep, leaning in to kiss you once more. All of a sudden, you heard a familiar meow and thanked God you were dressed and not in your robe.

“Frank, what are you doing here? I thought I’d come see Y/N since I’m not supposed to come home until noon.”

You bit your tongue to keep from cackling. Frank ran a hand over his face, his blissful bubble burst. He was getting you a hotel room next weekend.

#shamelesshoesforchris2021 #maggie's writing #frank adler #frank adler x fem!reader #frank adler fluff #frank adler smut

[beyondspaceandstars]

The Sleeping Situation

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: minor mentions of blood, minor (non-descriptive) violence Summary: You finally convince Bucky to sleep with you in the bed, as opposed to the floor, but you find it doesn't exactly go as smoothly as you had hoped it would, leading to some taunting emotions and revelations. A/N: This one went over pretty well on ao3 so fingers-crossed y’all enjoy too! idk how different audiences are - i just like sharing my work :)

Masterlist

You had finally convinced him. After weeks of hints and attempting, he had finally placed himself beneath the duvet, snuggled up right next to your body. 
It was something close to a miracle. Bucky had been sleeping on the floor for as long as you could remember. It had become really something you accepted — like clockwork, after watching a show or movie in the bed, he’d let you doze off then untangle himself to go to the living room.

When you first moved in, he didn’t think you really noticed. He’d always be up before you anyways, nothing seeming out of place but as if you possessed some sixth sense, you could always feel Bucky’s arms leave your waist as he went to retire in the living room.

During attempts at bringing up the bed, Bucky would dismiss it, saying he just hated how soft it was. He couldn’t get comfortable. He wasn’t used to it at all. And while you didn’t doubt this for a second, you still felt something deeper worries had been brewing.

You had decided to start small by having Bucky stay cuddling after your nightly movie viewing. You two would lay in the bed, staring at the ceiling, mindlessly talking about whatever was going on with your days. He seemed at peace with this until your eyes started drooping. Within seconds, the grip on your waist would vanish and he was heading out.

It was fine, though, since you had your moment together and he had found some way to relax in the bed. While you never wanted to push him, you wanted him at least content.

The next level was napping. After work, nearly every day, you’d announce you were laying down for a nap and ask Bucky if he was tired. Usually, he’d just shake his head. But one day he looked absolutely spent and wordlessly followed you into the room. A thrown arm around you loosely, he was able to get some shut-eye…for about 15 minutes. Soon he was uncomfortable and placing a kiss on your cheek, following it with a recoil of his touch. Still, you were taking the win and slowly but surely, the time spent napping would go up. Days bast but eventually he was up to an hour in the bed, napping peacefully.

When he finally decided to take the step to join you for a full eight hours in the queen-sized bed, you were quite shocked but easily overwhelmed with joy.

The movie had just ended and you were closing the laptop when Bucky left the bed. You frowned, watching his figure disappear to the bathroom, worried he was already backing out before cuddles and pillow talk. But you didn’t say anything and instead got comfortable on your side (well — the whole thing could’ve been your side at this point).

As you drifted off, a heavy arm snaked its way around you as you felt the other side of the bed dip. Blinking your eyes opened, you looked over your shoulder and was greeted by a nervous-looking Bucky staring back at you.

You turned to face him and asked, "Everything okay, honey?"

He nodded, "I- I’m going to try- try sleeping here if that’s okay."

Your eyes beamed as a smile you couldn’t suppress made its way to your face. "Of course," you said and placed a good night kiss on his lips. "Sleep well."

"You too, doll," Bucky mumbled and placed another kiss on your forehead. You curled up into him, feeling that he got more relaxed and his heartbeat went steady, drifting off to sleep.

***

Shaking. You were disrupted by something…shaking. Violently. Your first thought as you blinked, waking yourself out of your dazed sleep, was that a spontaneous earthquake was happening.

Except once your mind adjusted, it didn’t take very long to realize the mattress was the only thing shaking — and was the result of Bucky twisting and turning in fear next to you, lost in a nightmare. At some point, he must’ve untangled your cuddling bodies but thankfully that allowed you to sit up quickly, not trapped under whatever was happening.

You watched him, quite stunned to see Bucky thrashing around uncontrollably as whatever images and scenarios took over his brain. You didn’t really know what to do. All your brain could focus on was getting him out of his own thought. You needed him to calm down and know he was perfectly safe.

"Bucky?" You mumbled, your voice scratchy from the tears and fears creeping up. He didn’t react, only whispered some words to himself that you didn’t understand.

You hesitantly reached out for him, placing an experimental touch on his shoulder. He didn’t react at first so you called out his name again and tried shaking him. That was apparently not the right move because the next thing you knew, you were being flung off the bed, the side of your face against your bedside table on your way down. You landed ungracefully on your side, groaning at the unexpected pain.

The fall must’ve been loud enough because the next thing you could comprehend was watching the bed and seeing a very confused and dazed Bucky sit up. He was looking around the dark room, sweaty and anxious. When your eyes met, any color left in him faded. You could practically see the gears turning as he realized what he had done. You on the other hand were still quite surprised by the incident, simply choosing to stare at your boyfriend, watching him scramble off the bed and kneel at your side.

"Doll?" Bucky asked right beside you but his voice sounded so far away.

Taking some deep breaths, your shaky hand came up to your cheek as you felt something wet. Looking at your fingers, it was a sad mix of tears and blood.

A hand being placed on your shoulder made you snap back. You jerked away, turning towards your boyfriend. Bucky was practically frozen watching you, hands in the air, as you rushed to put space between you two.

Realizing the consequences of your actions, your heart sunk and you began apologizing. "Sorry, sorry," you mumbled, trying to furiously wipe away the tears and blood. "I- What happened? Are you okay?" You situated yourself to sit criss-cross in front of him.

"Am I okay?" Bucky shook his head in disbelief. "Are you okay? I- I’m sorry. God, I don’t even know how to apologize for this I am- I am so sorry, doll, I didn’t mean it. It wasn’t me, I swear, it- I had a nightmare and I just- I don’t know what happened." He was rambling, body shaking as he didn’t know what to do. Where to begin. How to explain. His mind was torn as a part of him wanted to hold you… And the other part wanted to leave you forever, utterly terrified of himself.

"Yeah, you seemed a bit upset," you mumbled, trying to hold your hand to your scraped cheek. Bucky saw your struggle and darted to the bathroom to get a washcloth, offering all he could as his words were failing. He handed it to you then took his seat again on the floor.

You dabbed your skin, checking the cloth as the bleeding slowed down. You weren’t sure what to say, either.

"I didn’t know what to do," you finally whispered, looking down at the carpet beneath you. "You were shaking and tossing and- and I just wanted you to wake up. To know you were fine. You seemed so scared-,"

"Alright, alright," Bucky mumbled, cutting you off as he saw you beginning to get worked up. Your body was shaking now as you recalled the last few minutes. The pure suddenness and terror that took over the room. He placed an experimental touch on your knee and, thankfully, you didn’t jump away. "You were fine, doll. This isn’t your fault. I- I knew I wasn’t ready to sleep with anyone and I got ahead of myself and now… Look what happened. God, what have I done?"

His jaw clenched as he spat out the words. You jumped slightly.

"Bucky, you didn’t mean to-,"

"But I did it," he said. "I hurt you and now I think maybe this just isn’t…" He faded off, his hand leaving your knee. He turned towards the bed as you tried searching him for anything, any answer.

"James, don’t." You shook your head. Bucky’s head whipped back to you as he heard the anger, the seriousness, in your voice. "Don’t say whatever you’re going to say. Let’s just go back to sleep and we can figure stuff out in the morning."

Bucky bit his tongue. He just nodded at your request, seriously not trusting his words anymore. He had half the mind to walk out, disappear into the world without you, all in the name of keeping you safe. And like the mind-reader you could be, you knew it. You saw it in his entire demeanor. He was practically planning an escape route at that very moment.

You two finally stood up from the floor. After disregarding the washcloth, you found your way back under the duvet. Bucky wordlessly gathered a blanket and left for the living room, knowing very well this bed was going to be the last place he fell asleep for a long time.

"Bucky," you called out as you were turned away from him. He stopped in the doorway. "To talk in the morning you have to actually be here."

He didn’t respond and instead just nodded his head as if you could see it. Then he promptly exited the room.

While the bleeding had stopped, the tears weren’t as you only heard the sound of Bucky walking to the living room.

***

Bucky was there in the morning and you talked — you. Only you could formulate words as difficult as it was while Bucky sat across from you. The guilt, shame, the exhaustion, all of it was painted on his normally sweet face.

You had told him you were fine, were feeling better. You were going to be okay. You understood the bed situation and wouldn’t pressure him into sleeping anywhere he was uncomfortable. You just desperately wanted him to be okay, to feel safe and happy in this space with you. Bucky just nodded along as you began attempting to write out a plan in case that had happened again. Nothing seemed to bring a true conclusion but there was at least the idea that there’d be no more touching of either person in their sleep, at least for the time being. It crushed you both, but neither of you commented.

He didn’t really offer much input besides agreeing with your points. Every other word out of his mouth was "sorry" so much so to the point you had to beg him to stop it.

He mostly just listened which you generally would enjoy from any man but in this case, you knew it gave his brain time to wander. Probably still planning how he would get himself out of his. But you didn’t want him gone. He was practically the perfect significant other in every sense. No one had ever treated you with such kindness and respect. Showered you with romance and kisses. Surprised you with date nights and flowers. You were just at a bump in the road and you didn’t want to get stuck behind it so easily.

Few days had passed and stuff seemed to be edging back towards normal. He had begun even holding your hand again, just a gentle touch to work his way up, reminding you greatly of when you first started dating, but you were welcoming it all with great patience.

You were standing at the kitchen counter cutting up vegetables for dinner when Bucky came home. He had a therapy appointment that day and usually emotions could be all over the place when he came home. Some days were good, some days everything would get under his skin.

Today, though, he seemed just… fine. He came in quietly and planted a quick kiss on your cheek before grabbing a beer from the fridge. He asked if you needed any help and when you shook your head, he went over to sit on the couch, watching whatever reality show you had mindlessly playing.

Moments passed and you had just begun sautéing the cut-up veggies when Bucky spoke, cutting through the silence quite surprisingly.

"I told her what happened," Bucky said softly. You froze, eyes trained on the skillet in front of you. His therapist. He had told her.

"Oh?" You asked, silently cringing at your stupid response. Neither of you had exactly brought up the incident since that morning after. And if anyone was going to resurface it, you had assumed it’d be you, so hear him so casual was making your heart pound.

"Mhm," he hummed. "I told her my first reaction was to leave."

"Bucky-,"

Footsteps started towards you, stopping at the little kitchen bar. You could feel him watching you as you tried focusing on the cooking produce. Your breath started to get caught in your throat, so much worry and concern washing over you.

"She wanted you to come in one session," Bucky tapped his fingers on the counter. "So we can talk."

You frowned and finally turned towards him. Worry was splashed everywhere on his face. Your heart practically sobbed. "Bucky, we did talk about it."

He shook his head profusely. "No, you talked," A beat. "I stood there like a statue, thinking of ways to leave you. Ways to get out of this so I’d never had to see that scared, upset look on your face ever again. So I’d never have to cause you any more pain than I already have. But I’ve come to realize I can’t do that because I love you too much and I- I can’t run away from you or anything. I’m going to try… No, I will make it right."

Your heart sank at his confessions. He loved you — a word he had never explicitly said before. A four-letter word he had never stood there and outwardly said. You let out a light sob and went around the kitchen counter, throwing your arms around his neck. He was shocked at first, maybe even a bit unsure, but you weren’t letting go, he realized, until he held you back.

"I love you, too," you eventually mumbled between the tears. You pulled away slightly, keeping your hands on his arms while his hands rested comfortably at your waist. Just feeling his touch had you melting all over again. "We’re going to be okay, Buck. It’s going to be fine."

He nodded, his eyes searching over your face as the scrape on your cheek was just still barely visible. It was going away fast but he didn’t think he could ever unsee it. "You’re right, doll, we’ll be okay. I’m working on it."

You gave a small smile. "You can’t be perfect, Bucky."

"Maybe not," Bucky shrugged as his hand found its way to your face, caressing your unharmed cheek. "But I at least gotta try to be perfect for you."

You sighed, leaning into the loving touch. Looking in his eyes you could kind of see that it truly was going to be okay. He looked so passionate and dedicated when he stared at you like you were it in the world. The only thing there. It made your soul sing and you hoped he saw it in you, too. "You are, honey. You already are."

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