#the man behind the bar who continued to pull out more

[duuhrayliegh]

equal and opposite (consequences, pt. 2)

a/n: first of all, yall really showed out with the comments and reblogs on the first part of this so THANK YOU SO MUCH like i haven't written anything that i felt was good in months so to have such an overwhelmingly positive response to that post felt amazing!!!!

if you haven’t read part one, i highly recommend checking that out first!!!!

anyway, i hadn't originally intended for this to go anywhere else, but as i've said before bartender!bucky & peanut just wouldn't go away so here we are!!! i hope this lives up to the expectations and if we want more PLEASE LET ME KNOW I LIVE TO PLEASE

“Can you please just sit down? I don’t understand what’s happening to us!”

“That’s the problem!”

He throws his hands above his head out of exasperation. They land on his hips as their new resting place and he levels you with a frustrated glare. A glare. Apparently, you’re not worth the energy it takes to filter the emotions from his tone or expressions. That luxury must be saved for his plethora of mistresses.

“You don’t understand me anymore!”

“Understand you?”

Going home has become harder and harder. Despite desperately wanting to fix your marriage, it seems your efforts might have been in vain. No matter how hard you try, your husband has made every effort to avoid having a real conversation with you. To say you’re at your wit's end would be generous.

“Yes! Coming home to you is too stressful for me. I’m in the office all week and then I come home to a wife who doesn’t put in any effort to make herself desirable for me.”

Your jaw dropped, as did the wooden spoon in your hand. His words float through your head on repeat. That voice you used to love, the same voice that vowed to always love and cherish you in his wedding vows. Now, you’re cooking for a man you don’t know.

“Then why stay with me? If I’m so clearly not what you want, why stay?”

There’s a drawn out silence that is accompanied by softly heaving breaths and the simmering pot of homemade spaghetti sauce.

“You’re what I want in a wife. You just don’t understand my needs in the way that Shelia does.”

Your blood boils. Shelia—the latest girlfriend in a string of girlfriends. How dare he? You turn to the stove and begin clicking everything off. You fume while gathering your purse and keys to a home that you no longer feel welcome in.

“This is why I didn’t want to get into this. You’re too emotional and I knew you’d play the victim whenever I’m suffering too!”

You roll your eyes, refusing to engage because you’ll only hurt yourself more. Instead, you pry the door open and slam it shut before trekking off down the hallway.

You don’t have a plan, all you know is that you need to get out. You’re lucky that you were wearing a hoodie and jeans whenever you started getting into it with John. It’s not the first time that you had to get out, so you’ve learned over the past few months.

Wind whips against your cheeks when you exit your apartment building. You pull your hood over your head and start walking aimlessly. You reach for your phone and dial the first number you think of.

You never stop walking, street lamps lighting the sidewalk with a pale yellow light. There’s an irritating sting starting behind your eyes that you refuse to acknowledge. You don’t have to listen to the trilling of the phone line for long before it’s interrupted.

“Commando’s. How can I help you?”

The music in the bar is loud enough that you can clearly make out Steve’s divorced dad rock playlist. A rush of relief shoots down your spine and you breathe a sigh while enjoying the subtle ambiance through your phone speaker.

“Hello?”

It’s only then that you realize you’ve been on the phone for the past thirty seconds without saying anything.

“Bucky?”

“Peanut?”

“Hi, uh--I didn't have your number and I didn't know who else to call."

"Hang on, Peanut. I'm here, hang on." Suddenly the music is reduced to a bouncing bass line. "Are you okay?"

You continue walking, breathing in the stale air of the city as you debate your answer. For the most part, sure, you're okay. You’re not physically harmed in any way, just a deep emotional hurt that persists through the stark cold of the air around you. But if someone looked twice, or you spend more than half a second around someone you're comfortable with, that answer wouldn’t hold water.

"The wheels, Peanut, I can hear them. I need you to answer me. Are you okay?"

Bucky's voice is soft and grounding. Your heartbeat starts to match the steady baseline of the bar's music.

"I'm okay?"

Bucky's soft laugh echoes through the phone speaker, "That sounded like a question more than an answer, Peanut." He then pauses and sighs, "What did he do now?"

You suck in a sharp breath, debating on how to answer his question. The lead weight that had previously settled in your stomach begins to lessen as you hear Bucky’s voice.

On the one hand, Bucky has become the person you feel the most comfortable with. You don't have anyone close to you in the city because you moved out here to support John's career. Your family is on the other side of the country, and it's not like you've had a whole lot of time to build a support system here.

On the other, Bucky didn't sign up for this. He didn't sign up for a broken wife that isn't even his! You have no connection to him outside of becoming a regular at his bar and forming a possibly misguided attraction.

“Peanut? Come on back to me."

“Sorry, Buck. I just—“ you trail off, not entirely sure how to handle yourself.

“Don’t worry about it, Peanut Butter.” You laugh softly at the lengthier version of your nickname while he continues talking. “Look, how about we meet somewhere so we can talk?”

“Aren’t you working tonight though? I can just come to the bar.”

No matter how appealing Bucky’s offer is, you don’t want him to risk his livelihood for you. You aren’t worth that, not really.

“Not anymore, Pea. You’re more important to me. The guys here can handle the bar while I leave to take care of my Ps and Qs.”

You giggle again, unsure of where he comes up with these iterations.

“There she is.”

The words are murmured low, as if he was just speaking to himself. As if it’s a remark not meant for public consumption, just a murmur of his adoration.

“There’s a little hole in the wall on 115th and North. It’s called Winnie’s. Meet me there and you can talk for however long they’re serving coffee.”

"Don't diners always serve coffee?"

"They sure do. And Winnie's is a 24-hour diner. Which means," There's a loud shuffle on his end of the phone and then his voice cuts through. "you can talk to me for as long as you want, Peanut."

"Thank you, Bucky." You aren't as loud as you meant to be, but you know he hears you when he hums before you end the call.

Shoving the phone in the pocket of your jacket, you search for street signs.

And now you stand in front of Winnie's, a sixties diner straight off a movie set. Bright neon illuminates the street below, bathing you in a turquoise light that you're sure is not at all flattering. The front door is encased in chrome and vinyl covers the seating throughout the restaurant.

You push through the front doors and spy a large jukebox on the left side of the building. There's no host stand, so you peer around the seats in search of your bartender.

"Welcome to Winnie's. hun! Just take a seat, we'll be right with ya!"

An older woman yells from behind the bar top. Her graying hair is pulled into a neat bun at the base of her neck and you're just about to read her nametag when you hear a familiar voice.

"Peanut! This-a-way!" Bucky stands from a booth in the corner, grabbing your attention and everyone else in the restaurant.

A bright blush colors your cheeks as you make your way to his booth in the corner. The linoleum floor of the diner becomes increasingly interesting the closer you find yourself to Bucky. To be completely truthful, you've never seen Bucky outside of the bar, so this is a jarring, but welcome experience.

He's still wearing those annoyingly large boots and tight white shirt that never fails to distract you when you're sitting on the twirly bar stools. His metal arm is on full display, the gold in-lay catching the light as he twists a straw wrapper into a tight spiral.

Bucky stands to greet you once you reach the booth, leaning toward you and wrapping you in his warm embrace. Your breath catches at his sudden body heat, but you waste no time in curling your arms around his torso.

"This might be the dumbest and most obvious question, but," he pulls back from the hug and gestures toward the seat across from him, "how’re you doing?"

A stifled laugh escapes as you settle into the worn vinyl seat. Instead of answering, you pull a less-than-convincing smile that you know Bucky can see right through. Evidenced by the fact that he laughs sarcastically at the look of it.

"Yeah, thought as much."

"It's just all becoming too much, I think."

An older woman brings two coffee mugs to the table, gripping a half-full coffee pot in her other hand. You stop yourself before you divulge anything in the presence of strangers. You don't need to burden another random stranger with your problems, Bucky is more than enough.

“Who's your friend, Jamie?"

Bucky smiles while introducing you to the woman. He extends the same courtesy to you, placing the name of the woman in front of you.

"Peanut, this is Winnie. She's the owner and operator of Winnie's diner."

Bucky pours a healthy dose of sugar into your coffee mug and then drops a spoon into it before pushing it across to you. You're in the middle of taking a large sip of the hot drink when Bucky continues talking.

"She's also my mother."

“Oh!"

He laughs as you sputter, completely phased by his nonchalance about introducing you to his mother. To be fair, you don’t really know Bucky outside of him being a great listener and mixologist. Winnie laughs and talks with the both of you before politely excusing herself to take care of her other customers.

“Your mother?”

Bucky leans forward and locks eyes with you.

“I’m so sorry. She wasn’t meant to be working today, but you would have met her one way or another.”

There he goes again, that dizzying nonchalance that bleeds into every word he speaks. Your mouth opens to speak, but you're still in a state of stunned that has you stumbling on your words.

"I'm just kidding, Nutter Butter." Bucky laughs and you hum while picking at your cuticles.

"Sorry, just took me by surprise."

"Clearly."

Bucky glances at your hands that are resting on the table and shifts around his side of the booth. There's a brief moment of silence as you mull over what Winnie has said.

"Did she call you 'Jamie'?"

Bucky lets out a loud laugh. One of those laughs that sounds like the feeling snuck up on everyone, including the person laughing.

"That's what you focused on, Peanut?"

You're smiling more in the past five minutes with Bucky than you have in the past five months with John. Bucky stops shuffling and then removes his coffee cup from the saucer it sits on. He slides the tiny plate toward you as you talk.

"Thank you for meeting me, Buck. Like I said, I think I'm just getting too tired of his bullshit. He really came at me today with the attitude that this is all my fault." Bucky nods as you continue speaking, "As if I'm the one who asked for an open marriage."

Bucky reveals a Ziplock bag and dumps the contents of it into the saucer in front of you. You're just about to start a rant when he nudges a salty shell into your hands. You glance down for half a second before getting the ball rolling.

"John asked for this! He's the one that's causing all this... this turmoil in our relationship. I haven't gone on a single date! I haven't caused a single issue. All I've been trying to do is understand things from his point of view, but he won't even give me the time of day to do that. I can't even suggest something like marriage counseling because he runs out the door the second he sees me enter a goddamn room."

You stop to take another long sip of your coffee while Bucky sits back and lets you rant at him across from yet another counter. You can see him chewing on the inside of his cheek, clearly holding back from saying something.

"I don't even know what to do anymore!" You huff and shove your hair over your shoulder. "What do you think?"

"Do you want my honest opinion or do you want me to just be here for you?"

"I want you to be you."

"Okay." Bucky nods, you crack open yet another peanut and place the shell on a napkin next to the plate. "I think you should start considering divorcing ol' Johnny boy."

"I can't do that."

Your response is immediate. Too quick to be healthy really. The shell of the peanut cracks between your fingers, revealing the salty perfection inside.

"Alright, divorce is off the table. How do you feel about separation?"

"No."

"Why?"

"It goes against everything I was raised to believe. I was brought up under the idea that the person you marry is the person you stick next to no matter what."

"Even when that person isn't extending the same courtesy?"

"I just--" You sniffle, peeling open yet another peanut. "I just want to be loved, Bucky. I don't understand what I did to make him look for love and affection from someone other than me."

Bucky reaches across the table and covers your hand with his, rubbing his thumb against your knuckles soothingly. You found yourself in this same position three months ago. It was when Bucky first told you of his interest in dating you.

To be perfectly honest, you were about two slow blinks away from folding into his arms then. Nothing's changed. You're still half a second from completely melting for the man before you, but you can't get over the fact that you're married.

"Peanut, you may never understand his reasoning. Especially when he won't sit down and explain anything to you. I think you should do what's in your best interest. If you don't want to divorce or separate, then you need to surround yourself with people who will give you that love and affection that you need."

A soft lull coats the pair of you and you allow your eyes to lock with Bucky's. What you find there shocks you.

Pity is something that you never, ever want to experience, but with a shitty situation like your marriage, you've come to expect it. Every time you glance in a mirror or catch your reflection in a store window, or even a puddle of water, you find your own eyes layered with that sickening sadness that accompanies self-pity.

However, in Bucky's clear blue eyes, you find nothing but determination. Determination for what is the question you're now faced with. In all reality, Bucky has no dog in this fight. He has no reason to be helping you the way that he has. Bucky's expressed interest in you, sure, but that doesn't constitute going to the lengths that he does.

"I just want you to be happy."

"Do you think you could make me happy?"

"Absolutely."

You nod while popping the last peanut into your mouth and wiping your hands off on your jeans. You stand unceremoniously and then hold your hand out to Bucky. He stares at your outstretched hand in half-baked shock and then jumps at the opportunity.

"See ya later, Ma! Love ya."

"Will you be home for family dinner?"

"Nope, gotta take my Peanut to the ballgame!"

Bucky rushes you out of the diner and pulls you to a heavy-looking motorcycle. You laugh as he pries open one of the saddlebags on the bike. He reveals two helmets, one white and one black. Both have sleek features with a face cover that reflects Bucky's sharp features.

"What?" His laugh that follows is full of nervous energy as you continue to laugh. "What's so funny?"

"It just--" You snort quietly, "You would drive a motorcycle."

"Oh yeah? And why's that, Peanut Brittle?"

You wave your hand as if you're circling his whole body and shrug while smiling your ass off.

"You just gestured to all of me."

You both break into a fit of laughter, only for Bucky to break it off and unclip the chin strap of the white helmet.

"Well, does safety also fit with..." he does the same gesture as you, "all this?"

Bucky gently rests the helmet on the leather seat of the motorcycle and then leans over to you.

"You might want to pull your hair back. Trust me I love your hair down, but whenever you're riding it's easier in the long run."

"Oh, okay." You begin to pull your hair back when you remember that your hair tie is on the counter at your apartment. "Actually, I think I'll suffer the consequences."

Bucky glances at you and then asks, "You need a tie?"

He prompts you to turn around and he quickly coaxes your hair into a neat ponytail at the base of your neck. You turn back to him with wide eyes, your hand reaching back to check the hairstyle.

"Come on. I've got plans, Payday! I've got ideas to romance ya!"

You laugh while Bucky beams and puts the white helmet over your head. Once it's secured, he swipes the visor up and boops your nose. You scrunch it in retaliation and he shakes his head at you. He grips the sides of your helmet and tilts your head to the side. A loud Bluetooth signal sounds and a robotic female voice informs you that the device has been connected.

"So, basic rules of the bike. I lean, you lean." He taps on the side of the helmet he just fiddled with. "This is a microphone, so we'll be able to communicate without the visors being up. Don't be afraid to squeeze if you feel a little wobbly. I promise I can handle whatever you give me, Peanut."

You flush at his words, thankful that you're already wearing the helmet so he isn't privy to the bright red coloring overtaking your cheeks. Bucky slips on his own helmet and mounts the bike in one smooth motion. His hands glide to the handlebars and then he turns to face you and jerk his head in the opposite direction.

You release a deep breath and give yourself a mini pep talk before placing your hands on Bucky's shoulders. The difference between them keeps you grounded as you swing your leg over the back of the motorcycle. His voice shoots into your ears, a breathy fuck me that wasn't meant for your ears.

"You ready?"

This question is at a normal level, and you respond in kind. The bike roars to life beneath you and you jolt toward him, arms immediately wrapping around his waist tightly.

"Hold on tight, spider monkey."

You giggle and interlock your fingers above the waistline of his jeans. Now, you can feel every breath he takes, every minuscule contraction of his muscles from every movement he makes to control the beast between his legs. You try to take steady breaths in order to control your heartbeat and match Bucky's, but the faster he goes, the faster your heart beats against his back.

City lights blur past as you find your rhythm behind Bucky. The more comfortable you get, the looser your grip becomes around him. He takes you through downtown with all the newer, hipster restaurants inhabiting the busy streets. Bucky begins to slow and you look up to see his profile illuminated under the bright red of the traffic stop.

His feet rest on the ground beside the bike, holding it upright while it rumbles idly. Bucky leans back into you, his hands moving from the handlebars to your thighs. He traces the skin that's exposed by the rips of your jeans. The loose material allows just enough space for his fingers to burrow beneath and trace meaningless patterns into your skin.

Butterflies make themselves known in the pit of your stomach, along with another slightly less prominent heat building at his touch on your skin.

"We're almost there, Peanut Brittle." Bucky's voice is melodic through the microphone. You could fall asleep listening to him read a phone book.

The bike thunders to life again as Bucky releases the clutch. More buildings fade as he continues to steer the two of you down the less traveled streets.

"Where are you taking me?"

"Somewhere fun!"

He laughs at your little groan. Surprises aren't necessarily your favorite thing, but if it's Bucky, maybe it'll be tolerable.

Suddenly, Bucky drops his right hand from the bars and indicates his next turn. The pair of you lean in that direction slightly as he slows into a parking lot of a roller rink. The sign for the Rockin' Roller Rink has a bright yellow arrow blinking toward the building at the base of its billboard.

He rolls into a parking spot near the entrance and pops the kickstand out to steady the bike. You peel yourself off of his back and rest your hands on your thighs while taking in your surroundings. Bucky slips his helmet off and then turns his torso to face you.

"As much as I love you on my ride, Peanut, you have to get off first."

You flush red beneath the visor and quickly dismount. However, in your rush to get off, you don't realize how unstable your legs are as they bear your full weight after the ride. Bucky's hands shoot out to your waist as he remains on the bike, a wry grin on his lips.

"Sorry, should've warned you about that." He stands in front of you and dusts off your shoulders before deciding that you're okay. "It's because of the riding position when you're on the bike. If you aren't used to that, it can be a little jarring the first few times."

He takes your helmet and then removes the keys from the ignition. Bucky bends at the waist and hooks his key carabiner to your belt loops.

As he straightens to his full height, he remarks with a wink, "Plus, the vibrations don't help much either."

You squawk unattractively and smack his chest with the back of your hand while he belly laughs. His metal hand hovers over your lower back as he guides you into the double doors of the roller rink. While he pulls open the door for you, you think about all the times that your husband has failed to do even that act of basic decency.

You shake your head as you walk in, determined to put him out of your mind. That is until you remember the one stipulation of your open marriage--you both have to disclose when you go on dates. Your mind drifts to all the unanswered texts he's sent you about his various dates. Little quips that accomplish nothing but remind you that your husband sees you as less than. A relationship that he no longer has to put effort into and hasn't for some time now. You take your phone from your back pocket to shoot John a quick text, a sour look overtaking your face as you do.

On a date, be home later. You’re quick to swipe your phone onto do not disturb and shove it back into your pocket. You aren’t ready to face the hypocrisy that John will manage to cook up.

"You okay, Peanut?" Bucky's voice clears everything. All the swirling doubt, the immense turmoil that you feel when you think of John, everything negative is wiped when you focus on Bucky.

Perhaps that's also an issue. Maybe you need to be single instead of dating. Maybe you need to love yourself before anyone else can effectively love you. What if that's the real issue? The real reason why John had to seek affection outside of your marital bonds. Maybe it was because you were so unloveable to the point that it was more effort to work through your issues than find an effortless partner somewhere else.

A cold finger taps your temple causing you to blink harshly and refocus on the man before you. This man who's become your safe haven, your harbor in this horrific storm that is your marriage. The man who brings peanuts to his mother's diner because you called him to meet up. The man who knows you better than your husband who you've known for half your life.

"The wheels," your bartender reminds you as he pulls you to the side of the room. His arms envelop you until all you can process is biceps, one cold and one warm. Bucky's cheek rests against your head and you can't find it in yourself to stop from melting into his touch. "How about this," he shifts away from you just enough to meet your eyes, "you just take it one hour at a time?"

"One hour?" You ask, brows furrowing skeptically at the concept. You've never been someone who just focuses on the thing in front of you. Your whole life you had a plan--get married, have kids, and secure a stable home life. Although, now that you think about it, your way isn't really that effective. What has your way got you? A decaying marriage, no kids, and a job that you tolerate at most.

"Just one at a time. Nothing can be that daunting if it's one at a time." He smiles big and leans forward, "And let's face it, your first hour is going to be spent watching me almost bust my ass on rollerblades."

You giggle and look at the ground, only for Bucky to lift your face up with a finger on your chin. He stares deep into your eyes, making you think if you stare long enough, you'll meld into one. His grip changes so that most of his fingers cup your jaw, allowing his thumb to trace your bottom lip. His metal finger tugs downward on your lip, releasing it from the hold between your teeth.

"That's definitely one of my current favorite noises you make." He struts off to the front counter, you trailing behind with a confused look on your face at his dopey smile. The implications of his comment seeping into your bones causing a deep heat to light in the pit of your stomach.

As you approach the teller, Bucky's already disclosed his shoe size for the rental pair of skates. The teenager behind the counter makes a bored grunt at the instruction and turns to you, waiting for your size before they trot off to fill the order. Once again, you're left alone with your bartender.

You lean against the raised platform, shoulder digging into the overhanging lip of the counter. During this brief moment of solitude, you take your time taking in Bucky. He really is a mountain of a man, coming in at six-foot-five inches of corded muscle and steel, he's really nothing less than impressive.

His hair just brushes the top of his broad shoulders, though you hardly ever see it down. He always manages to have it tied securely at the base of his neck. However one time, you remember walking into the bar only to see Bucky behind the bar, as usual. Except his hair was bundled on the top of his head. Little wisps of hair fell from the looser hold, framing his forehead and neck. On top of that, he was wearing a red henley that was at least two sizes too small with the sleeves rolled up, showing off his differing forearms in the dim light of Commandos.

It's safe to say that during those few hours you spent with Bucky looking like that, you were a little slower to respond. What's interesting though is that Bucky looks nothing like John. You always thought that John was your ideal man. Based on who you married, you would have assumed you'd be more attracted to Steve than Bucky. Instead, you find yourself lacing up a pair of rental roller skates, that might give you athlete's foot if you're not careful, with the imposing dark-haired man next to you.

"Why bartending?"

The question floats between you as you take the floor. Glistening hardwood reflects the bright neon of the strobe lights and your image beside Bucky. You watch as he glances down at you before refocusing his attention on the path in front of him.

"Well, if I'm being honest, I kind of stumbled into it." He wobbles dangerously as he speaks, hand jutting out to grasp yours in an act of safety. "Shit, sorry." He apologizes sheepishly but makes no move to drop your hand.

You giggle beside him, butterflies awakening from his act of self-comfort, a feeling you haven't felt since your relationship with John began. Bucky squeezes your hand, straightens his back, and pulls you around the rink.

"When I was discharged, it wasn't so much as bartending as it was the ownership of the bar. It gave me a chance to gain some semblance of control back." He stares off into the distance as he speaks as if he's reciting words he said time and time before. You peer up at him, waiting for the rest of his explanation.

Even though you've known Bucky for as long as you have, neither of you has really delved too deep into your pasts. To say you know next to nothing about Bucky's time in the military would be generous. You hum while you ponder his answer.

"Does that need carry into other aspects of your life?"

It's a genuine question, something to move the conversation along because you honestly want to know more about the man beside you. The double entendre of the question doesn't process until you see Bucky blushing beside you with a wry grin. Your eyes bulge, words stammering out of your mouth without finding their full forms.

"Oh-- uh, n— that's not wh--" Your eyes drop to the ground beneath you, the sleek wood reflecting the neon disco of the roller rink lights.

Bucky chuckles beside you, slowly rubbing his thumb against the knuckles of the hand he still holds. He steers the pair of you to the side of the rink, locking you against the slightly sticky bannister with his strong forearms. You quickly level him with a questioning stare as he leans forward and takes a deep breath, undoubtedly getting a strong whiff of your soft vanilla and cherry perfume.

“I’m trying to be very good for you, Peanut. So I’m going to say this once and then we’re going to continue with our date and it isn’t going to come up again until you bring it up yourself.” Your nod is almost imperceptible, but considering how Bucky continues without consequence, you figure he was just mentally preparing himself for his next comment.

“I am enamored with you. I want to have sex with you. I have fantasies that revolved exclusively around you. However, I’m not putting any pressure on this relationship or you. I understand that you need time to process your grief and your marriage, but just know that I’m more than happy to help you through the process and I certainly hope that I’m the first one you go to once you get to a place when you feel confident enough to explore your sexuality.”

You flush at his words, a hot streak racing up your spine before settling in your cheeks, blossoming them into a heavy shade of crimson. Bucky’s left hand comes up to your forehead, brushing away a strand of hair out of your face.

“But not only that, I want to have a relationship with you. I want the late night cuddles. I want the early morning breakfasts. I want to come home from the bar and take a shower with you. I want to wash your hair. I want you to massage my shoulders after a long day. I want to host Saturday barbecues with you for my family and our friends. I want to drive you to the bookstore and regret driving the motorcycle after you get so many because I just can’t say no to you.”

Bucky’s hand drifts down your arm, tracing the soft skin, taking his time to lace his fingers with yours. He pulls you away from the ledge, leading you two into the hustle and bustle of the roller rink. A smile stretches across his features as he tugs you along, a slow steady silence backed by the bumping base of the house music. You fumble with who to respond to him, but you eventually decide that no words are necessary. You know that yiu’ll be able to discuss things further later, you allow yourself to fall into the comfortable company that is your favorite bartender.

Time passes by at a rate you aren’t able to fathom. One moment you’re skating circles around Bucky, laughing as his arms jut out to his sides, steadying himself as he sways and wobbles. You flit out of his reach for a beat only for his arms to wrap around your waist, bringing you to his warm front. You squeal as you clutch his arms, the difference in temperature providing a level of comfort that you’ve been craving for months now.

You tilt your head back to rest on his shoulder, his long hair tickling the apples of your cheek. Soft puffs of air hit your face as he peers down at you, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips. He remains stoic, only his eyes giving you any indication that he wants more out of your current embrace.

“Attention all Rockin’ Roller Rink patrons, the rink will be closing in ten minutes! Please return all skates and other rentals to the front desk before leaving.”

The voice over the loudspeaker startles you causing you to jump in Bucky’s embrace. He tightens his hold on you, ensuring that you don’t topple over on your wheels. You breathe out a heavy sigh creating a slight distance between you.

“Come on, let’s go.”

Bucky is quick to follow you to the benches on the side to you could change your shoes so you can return the skates. You’re sure to take out your phone from your back pocket before sitting down. Against your better judgement, you swipe across the screen to turn off the silencing option. The screen illuminates and dozens of notifications flood the screen and you cringe. You shouldn’t feel bad, yore only doing what constitutes an open marriage. You sent the text, that was all that was required of you, and let’s be honest even that was more than what John deserves. Bucky leans back, shooting a glance at your now busy phone.

“Wow, he sure doesn’t miss a beat, does he?”

“Yeah, I’m sure everything he’s texted me the past two hours has been entirely supportive and not at all condescending or hostile.” Sarcasm bleeds into your words, making Bucky chuckle under his breath.

“Oh, ol’ Johnny boy? Nah, he’s nothing but a big old softy who knows that he’s only getting it as good as he’s giving it.” You huff at the comment just as your phone begins to buzz on the tabletop.

A groan leaves your mouth, slipping out before you can filter it. Bucky eyes you as your finger swipes the call button to accept. You haven’t even gotten the phone to your ear before John’s voice carries through the speaker, shouting expletives and derogatory remarks about you.

“Are you fucking kidding me? You’re on a fucking date right now? I can’t believe you!”

Your whole body cringes, and you rush to shove your shoes on to take the call outside. You leave without saying a word to Bucky, unable to look him in the eye while the supposed love of your life berates you over the phone.

“John, I don’t know what you’re upset about.” You tried to remain calm while he carried on. “I followed the single rule that you set in place.”

Bucky takes your free hand and leads you to his bike, leaning against the seat while he watches you pace in front of him. Your once smooth features are now ridged and tense, worry lines aging you ten years the second you get on the phone with John. Your forefinger and thumb find home on the bridge of your nose, pinching the bone there to prevent the sudden headache. You finally stop in your tracks, stomping your foot out of exasperation and then steel your voice.

“I refuse to allow you to speak to me this way, John. You’re the one that opened our marriage, I’m simply following the precedent that you set. I honestly have no idea what your issue with this is.” Your eyes dart to Bucky, “Now, I don’t feel comfortable coming home when you’re speaking to me like this over the phone, so don’t wait up. I’ll come home when you cool off.”

Tears begin to rim your lash line as John continues to shout his lungs bloody. You refuse to meet Bucky’s eyes as you lower the phone, thumb hovering over the end call button. A dark metal palm extends your way, a silent ask for the phone that you don’t have the strength to deny. Bucky watches you as he brings the phone to his ear, listening to your husband’s rant.

“This is completely fucking ridiculous! You’re my wife and I demand you come home and we talk this out like adults. You’re being so unreasonable, right now. And the fact that you think it’s acceptable to text me you’re on a date instead of asking if you could go on one? Who the fuck do you think you are? It’s best you remember who you belong to. You’re so in for it whe—“

Bucky laughs, your head shoots up, eyes locking with his for the first time since you’ve evacuated the roller rink. The laugh is a short, sardonic laugh. One you’ve never heard him make before, almost as if he’s using it as a throat clear. Your breath catches in your throat, knowing how John reacts to being challenged in any capacity.

“Now, I don’t know who you think you are, talking to my Peanut the way that you are. But I’ll tell you one thing for damn sure, you aren’t going to be speaking to her that way ever again.”

It’s another thing about Bucky you’ve never experienced. His tone. It’s dull, lifeless, but full threats that made your skin grow cold and your spine stiffen. You knew Bucky would never cause you harm, but those who hurt the people he loved? The same respect isn’t extended.

“And who the fuck is this?”

“I’m the guy.”

He’s eerily calm, the type of calm you’ve never seen him. You’ve been a distant onlooker while he deals with rowdy bar guests, having to throw out drunk customers who reached their limit and then some. But this… this was something else. John is still yelling, sure to be disturbing your neighbors earning you yet another noise complaint, possibly the one that gets you evicted from your apartment.

“What guy?”

“The guy that’s going to rip your spine out through your throat if you threaten my girl again.”

The world stills. The noisy streets of Brooklyn fade as you search Bucky’s eyes for any semblance of a joke. His eyes have darkened, latching onto yours with a depth that you’ve never seen in them. He reaches for you, pulling you in between his legs by your belt loop. You can hear the stammering on the other end clearly, John’s never had anyone stand up to him with such sincerity.

“If you’re done being a pussy, I’m a little preoccupied. If you’d like to continue this conversation, you may do so anytime at my bar. Howling Commandos. You can Google it and me in your free time. Right now, I’m on a date and you’re interrupting it and disturbing my girl.” Bucky’s hand snakes around your waist, pressing his chin to your chest while maintaining eye contact with you. “Now, apologize to her.”

He switches the phone to speaker mode, allowing you to hear the weakness invading John’s voice. All the while, Bucky’s eyes never leave yours. Your body melts into him, his warmth something that you didn’t realize you were craving. John stammers on his end of the phone, eking out excuses as to not apologize. Bucky clears his throat once more, the action causing his Adam’s apple to bob against your breasts.

“Apologize, Johnny boy.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

Three monotonous beeps echo out into the silent parking lot. Wind whips against your cheeks, igniting a shiver through your body. He shoves your phone into his front pocket before wrapping his other hand around your waist. Bucky shifts again, pressing his forehead into your stomach instead of staring up at you. Your arms come up around his shoulders, burying your face into his soft hair.

“Thank you.”

Bucky says nothing in return, squeezing your middle before pulling back to meet your gaze.

“Let’s go, you can stay at mine.”

He pushes against your hips so he can reposition himself over the bike. You’re quick to stop him, remarking something about him just taking you to a hotel for the night. He cuts you off before you can fully finish your sentence.

“I’m sorry Peanut, but you surely don’t think I’m about to let you spend the night at some sketch hotel by yourself. And I’m certainly not going to let you go back to that apartment with that temperamental skeeze of a husband you have.”

“Let me?” You back up, resting your hand on your now cocked hip.

“Peanut.” Bucky stares up at you, “I didn’t mean it in that way. I’m sorry. I’m only saying that I want you to be safe and I don’t feel comfortable leaving you in either of those environments. I would be much for comfortable if you came home with me so that I could protect you.”

You shoulders relax, in the back of your mind, you know that he didn’t mean anything by it. John always sets you on edge, and it’s unfair of you to put those emotions onto Bucky.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. It’s just… John.” Your sentence trails off, no ending really needed because you know that Bucky understands.

“Come on. Get on, Peanut Butter. We aren’t far from my place.”

You mount Bucky’s bike, his left hand immediately going to your thigh, his fingers threading themselves between the rips of your jeans to feel the soft skin of your knee. The ride to Bucky’s apartment is quiet, the rumbling of the motorcycle beneath you is powerful and steady. Every chance he got, Bucky would slip his fingers into the rips of your jeans, aching to be close to you in every way possible. You lean forward, resting your helmeted head against his back while he drives.

If there was one thing that you never would have guessed, it’s that Bucky Barnes would have pale green wallpaper in his apartment. Not just a pale green, he proudly declares that it’s agate green, the color he spent weeks painstakingly debating between that and nurture green. You giggle as you toe your shoes off at the front door, quietly taking in his personal space.

The exposed brick melds with the dark countertops in a way that’s almost soothing. The pendant lights above the island cast a soft glow over the open floor plan. Bucky turns to face you, peeling off his leather jacket and hanging it on a hook beside the door. You catch his eyes, only to be distracted by the wall of bookshelves on the far end of his apartment.

“Oh my god, Bucky I had no idea you were so interested in reading.”

He laughs, shoving his hands in his front pockets while walking behind you as you approach the stacks of books he has scattered throughout his home.

“I’ve always enjoyed reading. When I was deployed there wasn’t much to do other than read. I had my Ma send me all different kinds of books, from new releases to her favorite classics to stuff my little sister was reading in school.” He stands beside you, shoulder to shoulder as you glance up at him. “Guess I never kicked the habit, though there are worse vices that a person could have.”

You hum, refocusing your attention on the books, but only for a second as Bucky reaches his hand out and leads you up the stairs to the lofted bedroom. Bucky’s comforter matches the green walls that sits behind his TV. Not only that, but his pillow cases vary from overly fluffy to soft silks. The mixture of textures and fabrics is almost too much for your brain to comprehend. You’re about to question it when Bucky returns to your line of sight, a dark Henley in one hand and a pair of boxers in the other.

“I don’t have any pajamas for you, but you can wear these.”

He’s almost sheepish as he presents you with the clothes, a light blush casting over his cheeks. It’s so interesting to interact with him. At times, he’s the most suave man you’ve ever met, and at others, it’s like he’s a lovestruck teenager who’s just got their first girlfriend.

You thank him and follow behind him as he leads you to the en-suite bathroom. Just as Bucky begins to explain where everything is, he bends down to the bottom cabinets and retrieves a spare toothbrush.

“Planning for extra company, huh?” You joke while poking him in the side as he stands next to you in the doorway.

Bucky’s tongue peaks out of his mouth, his teeth catching on his bottom lip as he stares down at you. His eyes do that thing again, the same thing he did just before he laid out his feelings for you earlier. Your breath catches in your throat, is he leaning closer? Are you inching toward him? What are you doing?

“Bucky,” the tension breaks, a dam of emotions behind held back by your dedication to your marriage. “I feel like I should explain.”

His hands rest on your shoulders, quick to silence your worries. He leans forward, dotting a quick kiss to your forehead. Bucky lingers, the soft press of his lips shoots warm and fuzzy feelings through your bones.

“Tomorrow. You’ve had a long night. We can talk about everything in the morning.”

A weight of anxiety lifts from your shoulders as you watch Bucky begins descend the stairs, lush blankets and pillows in hand. You turn back to his room, allowing yourself to sink into his private space.

You peel back the duvet and sit on the edge of his mattress, unsure if you should fully dive into his being. If you’re quiet enough you can hear Bucky downstairs, shuffling on the couch in an attempt to find a comfortable position.

Your eyeline floats over his bedside table, the lamp atop it casting a pale yellow glow over the entire room. The surface next to you is covered in items that are unequivocally Bucky—a worn copy of Journey to the Center of the Earth, a leather bound journal, the few gold rings that he something adorns his digits with while bartending. His rings clink against each other as your fingers drift over the cold metal.

Among his assorted objects is your phone on his charger. The light pink case is slightly out of place, but not enough to be obnoxious. You smile to yourself while lying back in his sheets.

You really do owe him an explanation. Bucky deserves more than some broken woman who’s in a shitty marriage. He deserves the world and then some. All you can offer is a somewhat clear thought process.

You think on John’s actions today. He really showed you his true colors. You start to wonder if he really cares about you or if just cares about having a wife. If it’s the second one, why does it have to be you?

You flip to the other side, now facing the back wall of windows. Your mind is about as calm as the city right now. New York is never quiet, even this far out in Brooklyn. You’re never safe from the light pollution that constantly blocks out the beauty that is the natural night sky.

It makes you long for your hometown, the wide open spaces with vast fields of nothingness that stretch for miles on end. Maybe it’s time you pay it a visit. It would be nice to escape the hodge podge of a life you’re currently living.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you force yourself to slow your breathing. Distantly you can hear Bucky begin to snore, a low monotonous sound that you cling to. For the first time in months you feel secure. Your muscles decompress, your brow unfurls and you allow yourself to truly relax.

With everything that’s going on, Bucky deserves more. You deserve more, but that can all wait until tomorrow.

Tomorrow. That’s a good thought.

#bartender!bucky x reader #bucky x reader #sebastian stan #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bartender!bucky x peanut!reader #bucky x peanut #consequences #ray's writing #bartender!bucky barnes x peanut!reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes au #bartender!bucky #bartender!bucky barnes x you #bartender!bucky barnes x y/n #bartender!bucky x you

[delicatebarness]

i cant read your mind | chapter five

Summary: The Return of The Winter Soldier?

Warnings: MCU Spoilers. The Falcon and the Winter Soldier spoilers throughout. Zemo. Reader has anxiety and doesn't trust men.

Word Count: 1308

Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

A/N: I will get through this episode, even if it kills me. 2/? of episode 3.

Tags: @blackhawkfanatic | @cjand10 | @wintrsoldrluvr | @missvelvetsstuff | @buckys-metal-arm | @matchat3a | @shadowzena43 | @torntaltos | @honeydew3064 | @scott-loki-barnes

As the car approached Madripoor, you nervously bounced your leg in the backseat, and you found yourself picking at the skin on your fingers. The bright lights, booming music, and the smell overwhelmed your senses, leaving you to feel uneasy. Just as your anxiety threatened to consume you, Bucky’s hand landed gently on your thigh, giving it a slight squeeze, instantly soothing your nerves. 

Feeling Bucky’s reassurance, you turned to him and offered a grateful smile. His presence acted as a grounding force amidst the Madripoor chaos. As the car continued its journey through the streets, you felt a renewed sense of determination, ready to face whatever awaited. 

Arriving at the club, Sam seamlessly slips into his character, Smiling Tiger. He placed his hand on your lower back as he skillfully navigated you through the bustling crowd. As you moved, you couldn’t help but sense the curious stares directed at Bucky. The whispers of “Is that The Winter Soldier?” come from different areas of the space. But, you also felt the weight of their attention on yourself. 

Suddenly feeling self-conscious in the revealing dress, you attempt to discreetly pull down the hem trying to cover more of yourself. However, your efforts failed as the fabric refused to cooperate, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable. 

“Hey,” Sam attempted to grab your attention as he noticed your fidgeting. “It’ll be okay,” he reassured you, his voice gentle. 

In the back of your mind, you knew the truth: you were one of the world’s top secret agents, as well as an Avenger, surrounded by a fellow Avenger who is a trusted friend and ex-Winter Solder. You took comfort in the belief that Bucky still cared enough to ensure your safety. 

~

Emerging from the restroom, you adjusted your dress once more before returning to find Sam, Bucky, and Zemo. You expected to return to Sam’s arm encircling your waist yet you were instead seized by a sudden dread. 

You observed with a mix of fear and recognition as the Winter Soldier once again overshadowed Bucky’s mind. Sam and Zemo remained passive which only added to your concern. Though you knew this was part of the plan, it felt all too authentic and it unsettled you.

With your protective instinct for Bucky, you began to move closer to him, determined to snap him out of it. Memories flooded your mind of nights you’d calm him down after a nightmare, reassuring him that, that isn’t who he is. Now, all seemingly in vain. 

As you approached, he sensed your presence. He knew he was still performing and knew if you tried to bring him back then your cover would be blown. He caught the genuine worry etched on your face, striking a chord within him.

Before you could begin to intervene, a cold metal grip closed around your throat, lifting you off the ground. You kicked frantically as your hands desperately clasped his wrist, your eyes pleaded with him.

Pinning you against a wall, he paused for a moment before he revealed himself to you. A smirk played on his lips, accompanied by a wink as he eased the grip on your throat. 

“Hi, Baby,” he began a low growl in your ear before detecting someone behind him. Swiftly dropping you, he spun around and aimed a blow at the intruder who lurked behind him. You scrambled to your feet, gasping for breath as you made your way over to Sam. 

“Stay in character or the whole bar turns on us,” Zemo murmured toward the three of you after Bucky forcefully pinned a man against the bar nearby. “Well done, Soldier,” he added in Russian, addressing Bucky. With a vacant expression, he gradually released his grip.

“You good?” Sam inquired, receiving a quick nod from Bucky in reply, never glancing in your direction once. Sighing, you proceeded to follow them to speak to Selby.

~

You remained at Sam’s side as Zemo conversed with Selby, the tension hung in the air. You couldn’t resist glancing over at Bucky as he kept a vigilant eye on her. 

A shiver ran down your spine as Selby’s voice took on a seductive tone, addressing Sam as his cover, Smiling Tiger. You suppress a cringe when he purrs at him. 

You listened to the conversation as they continued, your breath caught in your throat as Zemo approached Bucky: offering him and the Winter Soldier code words in exchange for information. The urge to intervene surged through you as his hand neared Bucky’s face. 

Your jaw tensed as your phone began ringing in your bag, you hesitated looking between Selby and Sam. You reached into it, pulling the phone out, and you read the name ‘Tim TD’ on the screen. 

“Answer it,” Selby demanded you, her tone was sharp. “On speaker.” she gestured to one of the men on guard. The phone continued to ring persistently. Between Selby’s commands, the guarded men, and Bucky’s watchful gaze, you hesitated, uncertainty ran through your body. 

“Hello?” you finally answered, you tried to keep your voice steady despite the rising tension in the room. 

“Hey, um, we need to talk about what happened at brunch.” Tim’s boomed over the speaker, he sounded strained and troubled.  “It’s been driving me nuts.” 

“What exactly happened at brunch?” you inquired, trying to maintain the facade of one of Smiling Tiger’s girls, you exchanged a glance with Bucky.

“You know what happened, the problem that showed up,” Tim replied, his frustration palpable even over the phone. 

“What happened, Tim? Say it,” you pressed.

“The damn Winter Soldier,” Tim’s voice rose, causing you to instinctively glance over at Bucky again, a sense of unease settling in your stomach. 

“Yeah, I’ve got my eyes on the Winter Soldier,” you replied, trying to inject a hint of levity into your tone.

“Oh you’re with him now?” surprise was evident in Tim’s tone. “I guess I know now why you haven’t answered any of my texts, Y/N.” 

“Y/N?” Selby’s sharp voice cut through the conversation. “Who’s Y/N? Kill them.” Suddenly, a gunshot came through the window, killing Selby instantly. 

For a second, the room froze until the guard looked back at you and Sam instantly disarmed him, knocking him out. On the other side of the room, Bucky did the same to the other guard. You ran behind Bucky for cover as he took a stance readying himself with the gun he took from the guard. 

“They’re gonna pin this on us.” Sam rushed as he readied himself for further confrontation. Zemo sighed heavily, “We have a real problem now, so leave your weapons and follow my lead.” he directed. Bucky removed his leather jacket after setting the gun aside, handing it to you with a reproachful glance as he eyed your dress once again. 

Clutching Bucky’s jacket tightly around you, you kept your head low as you stuck close to Sam and Bucky. Suddenly, the light of Madripoor flickered out, and the sound of gunfire filled the air. Bucky’s arm swung around urging you to duck as he yelled, “Come on!”. Zemo had vanished, leaving you, Bucky, and Sam to sprint away.

“I can’t run in these heels!” Sam shouted as he ran. “Welcome to my world!” you shot back as you ran ahead of him slightly. 

Dashing down the alley, you find yourselves cornered by bounty hunters closing in from both exits. You glance around as gunfire erupts again, but it’s not aimed at you - it’s targeting the bounty hunters. With a sigh of relief, you watch them collapse to the ground. As tension eases, Zemo emerges from behind a dumpster, stepping into your view.

“Well, this is too perfect,” a familiar voice speaks, you glance in the direction it came from. Your suspicions are confirmed as your old friend emerges, gun pointed at Zemo.

 “Sharon?!”

---

Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky fanfic #james bucky barnes #bucky x female reader #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky fic #bucky barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #the falcon and the winter soldier #tfatws #tfatws au #tfatws bucky #fatws!bucky x agent!reader #fatws au #fatws bucky

[sistertotheknowitall]

Some Guy on Fear Gas (can apparently turn invisible)

Masterpost

“Danny was supposed to be in class today.”

There was a round of sighs in the coms. See Danny didn’t react in the same manner as the rest of the population when exposed to fear toxin (or in general, but they were mostly used to that). See Danny didn’t scream, he didn’t cry, he didn’t get violent. He got unnervingly paranoid.

He got so unnervingly paranoid about being watched, specifically by the government if the muttered and whispered words were to be believed. His eyes tracked nothing while he slowly moved around invisible people. It wasn't like dealing with someone in an active hallucination experiencing a psychotic break. It was like dealing with someone in a paranoid delusion. He wouldn't let any of the bats near him and often took off, disappearing into the chaos.

Four months into seeing this kid everywhere and their suspicions were confirmed when he literally disappeared after the second time being poisoned.

Danny was a meta and he was afraid.

That’s not the reason for the exasperation felt by this family though. It was what always happened after. The first time he ignored every vigilantly when they tried to bring it up. After the second time he attempted to avoid everyone, extended family included.

(He had asked Kate if she was also Batman’s kid. “More like their aunt.” “Oh okay so it really is a family business. Like that show Unnatural. You don't happen to have also lost your parents at a relatively young age and now go on to fight a dark presence in their honor, do you?.” Kate had stared passively at him, the others had warned her. “….. okay… are you more of a Zuko honor type?”)

However, it was like the universe conspired against Danny. Even Bruce agreed that there had to be some god or being doing this (nothing is ever a coincidence). They kinda felt bad for him. He was very obviously trying to avoid them and he was either really bad at being evasive or a deity was laugh at him. Once he had thrown himself behind a lamp pole smaller than himself and closed his eyes to avoid Stephanie.

(It was very awkward. He could turn invisible and knew they knew so why…..? She had politely continued past so not to embarrass the poor guy further. Cause this was embarrassing and they both knew it.)

Finally it was Duke who pulled them all out of limbo. He had come across Danny on the roof of another bank. A lesser known capital union closer to crime ally this time.

Danny hadn’t been avoiding Duke in the same manner as everyone else. He still stopped to give Duke food but he never spoke and he ran after. Duke thought it would be weird to chase him but it was also weird to turn around, have an orange shoved into his hands then watch his friend run away.

However, this time Danny didn’t run as Duke approached so Duke sat next to him. Pulling out a granola bar, he handed it to Danny, “that’s why you feed me all the time right? Cause you know how many calories we need as metas.”

Danny had laughed, “no actually, that was a bit that morphed into a habit. I just thought it was funny.”

“….what.”

“Don’t get me wrong, now that we’re friends I am more than happy to feed you but yeah. The first candy bar was a thank you and then the second time I thought ‘I have fruit.’”

“….. wow… okay.” There went his plan of empathizing. They sat in silence as Duke tried to reorganize his thoughts.

“I’m sorry for avoiding you all.” Duke turned his head to face Danny, who kept his eyes forward, “you know no one cares that you’re a meta.” “Obviously. It wasn’t the invisibility that I was upset about," Danny said.

“The muttering. The paranoia.” Danny grimaced and didn’t say anything.

“You don’t have to tell us till you’re ready, man. Just let us know if you need help. Please, are you safe?”

Danny nodded and Duke nodded back and they had both continued to sit. When they parted ways Danny handed Duke a small bag of chips.

Danny had apologized everyone one at a time even though they had heard it from Duke. Danny never explained nor did he want to talk about his it. His power of invisibility was also a subject off limits. All of them were worried but they didn’t want to force him to talk about it. They had to trust that he would one day feel comfortable doing so with any or all of them. (Still, it was hard seeing their friend so paranoid that he flinched back from them. )

Post Six

#I dont think I made this one to serious. #batman #danny phantom #dc x dp #dp x dc #dp crossover #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #dcxdp #dpx #danny is just some guy

[reiderwriter]

Hi Kacie!! Now that your requests are open... Could I request a smutty fic where Spencer finds out reader has a not-so-common sensitive spot (like her legs, hair, arms, whatever body part you want). Maybe he finds out kinda in a public setting after she gets all flustered and wants to keep pushing to test his theory?? You can take as much inspo from this as you want<3

(If this emoji's not taken)-💃 anon

A/N: Hello! Sorry for going MIA for a while there. It was the beginning of a new school year here in SK, so I've been really busy! I've been chipping away at this one little by little, and it's finally done! I hope you enjoy it ♡

Warnings; Smut, 18+ Minors DNI, case details, misogyny from a bartender in the opening scene, Semi-public sexual experimentation, edging, PinV sex, use of pet names (good girl), slight degradation, cum play, etc.

Masterlist

The back of the bar was dimly lit as you walked through it, keeping pace with your teammate as you kept one eye on the shady inhabitants of the bar. 

You'd been sent - with Spencer of all people - to ask the local dive bar staff about suspicious regulars. A fact that didn't exactly take into account his general lack of intimidating looks and your status as the newest member of the team. 

A trial by fire if you'd ever seen one. 

You tried your best not to stick out like a sore thumb, but the people in these parts could spot a Fed from a mile away. And though Spencer was remarkably pipe-cleaner-like, they'd certainly recognised enough FBI in him to clam up upon your entrance. 

“We got some visitors, I see. What can I be getting you, little lady?” The barman greeted you as you reached the first stool at the counter, a patronizing smile on his moustache clad lips. 

“If it's okay, we'd like to ask you some questions. I'm Agent Y/N with the FBI. This is my partner, Doctor Spencer Reid.”

“You're a Fed? Now, why would you bother doing all that hard work when you could be warming my bed, girl. It's definitely more honest and satisfying work.” 

The way the man leered at you over the counter has you freezing momentarily. Your instincts were saying fight, but you held your tongue just long enough to not ruin any rapport your team could build with locals. 

“I'm flattered, but already spoken for I'm afraid. Have you seen any suspicious men in here in the last six months, one that would pass through only semi-regularly, maybe with a few female companions, though never the same.” 

Professionalism at the cost of your peace of mind was going to be a hard learn for you as you grit your teeth and swallowed the bile in your throat. 

He just continued to leer at you as he dried up beer glasses. 

“You're looking for a man who likes cheap whores? Maybe you are in the market for a career change after all.” 

That was about all you could take, and luckily, Spencer Reid was well aware. 

Quickly grabbing you by the wrist, he pulled you behind him defensively and leaned over the bar, his voice low and somewhat chilling. 

“Disrespect my partner like that again, and I'll have you charged with aiding and abetting a murderer who has kidnapped and ended the lives of three local girls. Local girls whose fathers you're more than likely acquainted with, who absolutely have multiple acres of property and just enough bullets to put you in the ground.” 

The blood rushed to your ears at his voice, but the light grip of your wrist held you in place indefinitely. 

All the fight left your body, as you found yourself coming dangerously close to melting into Spencer in relief. 

He forced the man to answer some more basic questions, but it wasn't as if you could hear them. He stroked a quick thumb back and forth across your wrist as all the thoughts fled your head, and the words fell asleep on your tongue, resting there until he released you from his grip. 

You'd known that the area was slightly sensitive for a while, having accidentally brushed up against things and felt serious chills shoot up your spine. What you hadn't known was that it was that kind of sensitivity. 

Though, in all honesty, you hadn't exactly known that you could feel that kind of excitement for Spencer either. You just hoped he wouldn't notice. That much. 

Having finished his line of questioning and reiterating his threat, he moved his hand from your wrist to the small of your back and adeptly guided you from the restaurant and out of the line of vision of every pair of eyes in the place. 

“Are you okay?” He asked when he finally got you to the car, voice still quiet and low, and slightly too close to let you fully relax. 

“Peachy. He talked to you at least.” You turned away from him and began opening the passenger side door. 

“Nothing new or useful, though. Your bpm is high,” he joined you in the car, putting on his seat belt while you completely let go of yours, letting it zip back into itself.

“My… my what?” 

“Your bpm is high. Your heart was beating so fast,” he said, reaching over you to help you reclip it. “Were you nervous, Y/n? Or just sensitive?”

“Your mouth is entirely too close to mine to be asking that question,” you breathed out, cursing your eyes from stealing a glance at his lips. 

Only five minutes into this sudden attraction to Spencer Reid, and you were already mortified and extremely horny. In equal measures. 

“What would be the appropriate distance to ask that, then?” 

“I hear Australia is lovely this time of year.” 

He chuckled softly at you as he finished adjusting your seat and then moved far enough away to let the ground swallow you in peace. 

Never one to leave well enough alone, it seemed that Spencer took it upon himself to experiment with you for weeks on end after that. 

He'd constantly ask you to pass him papers, pens, anything that'd allow him to run a finger across the inside of your wrist. On more than one occasion you'd caught him staring into your eyes as he did it, and it took a nearly embarrassing amount of time to realise he was checking how dilated your pupils were before and after. 

When he'd gathered enough data for that line of questioning, he moved on to bigger things. 

You knew you were in danger of seriously falling head over ads when he offered to walk you to your motel door in a seedier case location. 

You, an FBI agent with a real-life gun and badge and job at Quantico, and you were jumping at the chance to have a man walk you to your room. You'd have been embarrassed if you weren't burning with anticipation. 

You hoped that like every other man in history, he was gently trying to insinuate himself into your bedroom, and by extension, your bed and more intimate places. 

So you were more than slightly disappointed when he started wishing you a good night. All of the aforementioned disappointment fled your body, though, when he picked up your hand and dropped a kiss to the inside of your left wrist, repeating the action on the right before wordlessly retreating. 

You stared at his back as he walked purposefully down the corridor and into his own room, leaving you to pick up your jaw and retreat to your room to lick your wounds. 

You wished it was him picking you up instead and found your brain imagining just that as your fingers dropped between your thighs that night. 

It became a case tradition for him to tease you like this, kissing your wrist after innocently walking you back to your hotel room. The others thought it chivalrous, almost cute and childlike, a form of courting that graced the good old days. They didn't know he grabbed you by the waist and held you against his hard-on every time you rode an elevator together. They didn't know his tongue darted out a few times to lick your wrist on occasion. They didn't know how you once mentally begged him to bite you there and how you shuddered as he ran his teeth along the vein there. 

Spencer was coming to the crux of his research regarding how far he could push you before you cracked. Only now, it was how far he could get without pushing you against a wall and jumping your bones. 

You knew you were in danger when he offered to escort you home after a case. 

“To walk you to your door, you know? Like always,” he smiled at you, the picture of innocence as you became damp between your thighs. 

“Sure. Yeah, okay, I'll get my keys, let's go.” 

You weren't sure how no one else noticed that Spencer didn't have a car to drive himself home after taking you to yours. You were unsure if they'd connect the dots between him escorting you home and his own apartment being 45 minutes in the opposite direction. 

Luckily for you, you could keep your hands at 2 and 10 the entire journey, away from his grasp. If he'd have touched you right then, you're sure you'd have driven both of you right off the road into a ditch. 

Or a pedestrian. 

The drive was calm, but pulling up forced your heart to your throat and kept it suspended there, almost like it was frozen at gunpoint, a deer in the headlights. 

“We're here.” 

“Great. Let me walk you in.” 

In. You swallowed hard, wishing very much for him to be inside of your apartment. 

“Okay.” 

Stepping into the elevator a few minutes later, he waited mere seconds after the doors began closing to pull you into his personal space. He was hard, he was so hard once again and his cock was now straining against your ass.

“Spencer, we need to talk about t-that,” he stroked your wrist as his hand splayed across your stomach, holding you firmly against him. 

“About what, Y/N?” 

He pulled your arm up almost as if inspecting the wrist for imperfections, and your head melted back into his chest. Why was this elevator so goddamn slow? 

You sprung out quickly when the doors pinged open finally and moved straight towards your door without a glance back, but you felt him close behind you. 

“Y/N, wait for me, wait, I'm sorry,” he called out quietly as you forced your keys into the lock as fast as possible. 

“Y/N, I'm sorry if I stepped over the line, I didn't mean too, please look at me-” 

You got the door open and turned back around to grab a firm hold of his tie and yank him into the apartment behind you. 

“Months. Spencer, you have been edging me for months, and I am sick of it.” You half growled at him, slamming the door behind him and then pushing him up against it. 

“I can feel how hard you are right now. Obviously you want to fuck me, so why aren't you?” 

His face went from shocked to intrigued, then shot straight for mischievous as he cracked a smile, and you felt his hands wrap around your wrists slowly. 

Before you could react, he had your positions swapped, your arms above your head pinned at the wrists and his breath hitting your neck as he answered. 

“I wanted to see how long it would take you to break.” 

Your lips leapt to his, hitting him angrily as you searched for more pleasure in his touch, one leg pushing up to wrap around his waist as his hips settled between yours. 

He met you at your level, giving just as good as he got.   

“Call it scientific curiosity,” he murmured, lips trailing down your neck, but hips pinning you in closer to the wall, keeping you trapped there. He made his way along your shoulders and then pressed light teasing kisses up your arms while rutting his hips into you, dry humping you against the wall as your eyes glazed over in lust. 

“You react when I touch you, you heat up. But it gets worse if I touch you here, right Y/N?” His lips again found your wrist, but this time his teeth grazed across the veins he found there. 

“You get so horny now when I look at you. I can grab your wrist and make you beg for my cock, isn't that right?” His mouth was back by your ear as your legs went limp under you. He still had you caged against your own door, and you had no idea what to say to that. 

Part of you wanted to protest purely because of the rough tone of voice he was using. The other wanted to flood to the floor and tell him yes, beg him to just fuck you and be done with this pure torture. 

“I asked you a question, Y/N. Isn't that right?” 

“Yes, yes, Spencer fuck, I don't care anymore, yes. You can touch me and I'll react to you, please help me.”

“Good girl.” 

He pulled away instantly, but his hands wrapped firmly still around your wrists. Slowly, he pulled you towards him as he slowly walked backwards further into your apartment. You thought for a second about just throwing yourself back into his arms, to close the space he'd created again between the two of you. 

You tried it, lifted your head slightly, begging his lips to return there, but he held firm. Each step was an agony of need, and you fought to hold your tongue, begging yourself not to beg him so pathetically. 

“Such a good girl, I'm holding you by the wrist, and you won't even protest about how slow I'm being.” 

Your mouth fell open as you registered his words. 

“You're being an ass.” 

“What was that? You want me to touch your ass?”

“Spencer!”

“Don't worry, we'll get to that.”

His back finally made contact with your bedroom door, and you stumbled forward into his chest as he kept his grip even still. 

“You're going to listen, right? You're going to listen to me and do what I ask you to do, aren't you?”

You wavered again. He'd been teasing you, but now he was serious, his tone light and his voice soft, but you could feel the strength in his grip. You could feel his arousal at your hip. 

“Yes, Spencer.”

“Good. Get on your knees on the bed. No clothes.”

He released your hands and opened the door for you as you tried your best to walk forward calmly. 

By the time you reached the bed, you'd removed most of your clothes, but you hesitated at the underwear as he watched from behind you. A quick glance over your shoulder saw him palming his cock through his pants, still leaning against the door he'd opened for you. 

He was getting off watching you, and you were frozen in arousal. 

“No clothes, Y/N.” 

“I know.”

“Underwear is clothing.” 

“I know that, too, Spencer.”

“Then take it off.” 

You shot a quick glare over your shoulder as you unclaimed your bra behind your back and threw it to the floor. 

“On my knees, right?” You said, climbing on the bed still clad in your panties. 

“I also said no clothes.” 

“If you're so invested in my state of dress, how about you come and help me rectify it.”

His lips twitched in small annoyance, but he followed the trail of clothes you'd left, ridding himself of his tie, shirt, jacket, and pants along the way. 

He climbed on the bed slowly behind you, not opposite as you'd presumed he would. His hands reached out to touch your back before slowly sliding all the way up to your neck and pushing your upper body down into the sheets. 

You let out a little squeak in shock, but let his hands guide you, feeling especially pliant when he grabbed your hands and crossed them behind your back. 

“Maybe the panties can stay. I'll just decorate them afterwards,” he said, and with that, he pulled your hips up with his free hand  guiding you into the position he wanted you in, and pushed two fingers into you. 

“Fuck, Spencer-” your brain short circuited as he pumped the digits slowly in and out of you, setting an agonizing pace but holding you so tight that.you couldn't even press your cunt back into his fingers. 

“What? What is it, Y/N? Tell me how you feel?” 

“Feel good, so good Spencer, p-please more.” 

He shifted slowly behind you, pulling his fingers out almost completely before pushing them back in, this time with another finger added. He didn't quicken his pace as you assumed he would, but he took his time stretching you out further as you moaned and whined underneath him. 

“More. You wanted more,” he reminded you, and his voice was like a sharp hit straight to your cunt, rough and hot and filling you completely. 

You barely registered the orgasm that flowed over you, your brain replaying his words on a loop as he continued pleasuring you. 

“That's it. That's a good girl. Get my fingers nice and wet.” 

When you finally grounded yourself in the moment again, your cheeks flushed as you realized just how wet you'd gotten. You felt your arousal still dripping down your leg and turned your face further into the sheets to hide your embarrassment. 

He pulled his fingers out of you, though, and with his now free hand he crouched over you and hooked his fingers under your jaw lifting your head and body up, forcing your crotch back into his as your back arched. 

“Don't hide from this. Look how wet you are for me, Y/N. Taste it.” He tapped his fingers against your mouth and you were ashamed at how fast your lips dropped open, tongue falling out to let him wipe his cum stained fingers against your pretty little lips. 

You tasted yourself on his fingers, wrapping your tongue around them and sucking as he dragged his dick across your back, trying to relieve himself in any way he could. 

“Good girl. It's time for one more, Y/N.” 

You released his fingers with a wet pop as he pushed you back into the sheets. Lining himself up, he entered you easily, your cum providing ample lubricant. 

You whined at his first few pumps, certain he was going to continue his torturous pace and leave you begging for more hours into the night. 

Instead, he let himself work you up to it, each thrust gaining in speed and strength until you could hear the slap of your skin against his more vividly than your own heartbeat. 

His cock was thick, filling you perfectly as you lost yourself in the sensations. 

“One day, I'll handcuff you to this bed,” he said, leaning down and whispering in your ear as each part of your body vibrated with lust. 

“I'll tie you down to this bed, and I'll treat you like a princess. I'll eat your cunt for hours until you cum every time my breath hits your cunt, and I'll cover your pretty tits in my seed. I'll let you use my cock as your personal sex toy, and I'll fulfill every single need you have.” 

His hand released your wrists as both of his hands came to wrap around your waist, pushing you deeper into the plush covers and changing the angle of his dick. 

You screamed at the pleasure, forgetting the paper thin walls your apartment boasted. 

“Fuck, Spencer.” 

“And you're going to love every single second because your brain switches off every time I touch your delicate little wrists.”

With that, another wave of pleasure spread through your body, sending prolonged shivers throughout your body. 

You felt him withdraw and heard the sticky mess of him stroking himself behind you until he made good on his promise and sprayed his generous load across your ass and panties before collapsing on the bed next to you. 

The two of you laid there for what felt like hours, sharing nothing but your labored breaths and the space of the bed before he finally rose. 

You tried not to sleep, but your entire body felt stiff from the awkward, if enjoyable, position he'd held you in. 

Your eyes drifted shut, and you just listened to his movements. A creaking floorboard here, a stumble against some furniture there, culminating in some running water and a return to your space. 

“Y/N,” he whispered, cautious to rise you from what he assumed was much needed sleep. 

“Mmmm,” was all you could reply.

“I realize now that I made a pretty big mess, so we need to get you in the bath.” 

“Mmm,” you protested, brows furrowing as you tried to gather your sheets closer around you, cradling yourself in the warmth. 

But doing so only made you more aware of the sticky wet mess around your torso and legs, and you let out a small, frustrated sigh. 

“You're stubborn, you know that, right?” He said, admiration coating his tongue as he lifted you slowly and helped you place your feet on the floor and walk towards your bathroom. 

“Spencer, shouldn't have a bath, too sleepy.” 

“I know, I'm going to stay.”

“In the bath?” 

“In the bath.” 

“Good.”

And it was. You let him lift your legs one by one into the scorching water and melted back into him, your head resting on his shoulder as if it were the most comfortable pillow you'd ever used, and you slept. 

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

[ioniiaa]

My Darling, My Honey

Alastor X Fem!Reader (Part 7)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

Quick Notes:

You, the reader who is an artist, and had become Alastor's sweetheart, have just died.

Alastor is about to find out.

Part 7:

The sound of a singular gunshot rang clearly in the night that had been so peacefully quiet up until that moment in time.

Alastor, with the engagement ring in his pocket, who had been peacefully reading a novel within the confines of your shared home, nearly ripped his book in half upon hearing the sound of a gunshot in these woods.

The forest around here was part of his private property, anyone who dared to trespass or hunt in his neck of the woods was shot on sight. Many people ignored the plentiful and very obvious warning signs, so it wasn't his fault so many people ended up becoming your and his meals. Everyone else just thought the law didn't apply to them, straight-up criminals. In his eyes, they all deserved it.

Thinking it was just another nuisance, a "tsk" left Alastor's mouth as he grabbed his shotgun and headed into the woods.

After a few minutes of walking, he finally caught sight of the transgressors. Two men that he, unfortunately, recognized right away as the men from the bar who liked to push his buttons by harassing you.

The seething rage pooled in his core, bubbling up into his chest. This was his chance to get rid of those nuisances once and for all.

They would trouble his darling no more.

For him to get into a better position to take the men out, he crouched down and quietly circled around them like a hunter playing with his prey.

After circling around to position himself behind the men, what he wasn't expecting to see was the most nightmarish sight he's ever seen.

His beloved sweetheart, soon to be betrothed, all disheveled and tied up against a blood-splattered tree with a bullet lodged in the middle of their forehead.

Your eyes were lifeless. There was no doubt about it, the love of his life was dead.

Alastor didn't need to even think before pulling the trigger on the men, shooting one after the other, over and over, even after their bodies had hit the ground.

He. Was. Enraged.

By the time Alastor was done with them, they looked like Swiss cheese, barely strung together.

Alastor's breath was heavy, his chest heaving, near hyperventilating, his eyes were enlarged and his mind was focused on one thing. You.

His beautiful love, he couldn't bear to see you in this state.

In his oddly manic and shocked state, he untied you from the tree and took your body back to your shared home in the woods not too far from here.

For a few moments, his rage was replaced by sorrow and mourning as he buried you in the backyard. As fucked up as he was in the head sometimes, he would rather die than think about eating you. You were sacred to him.

As he laid you down into the ground, he embraced you once last time and took the ring out of his pocket. He placed the ring onto your ring finger and kissed the top of your hand, "In life and in death, I am forever yours, as you are forever mine. I love you, dear."

After you were buried, the rage returned like a vicious tsunami. Oh he wasn't done with revenge just yet.

Every single man or woman that ever mistreated you or offended you, was put on his list.

This night was the catalyst that gave birth to the serial killer known as the "Bayou Killer".

Alastor stopped visiting Mimzy's bar since your death, with his sole focus and dedication in life going to hunting down those that had harmed you in life. After all, they deserved it, you were like an angel to him.

But what Alastor didn't stop doing, was broadcasting his radio show. So many of his connections were made because of his show, so it was a valuable resource to keep active, to use to his advantage.

Alastor continued living his life like this until every single name was crossed off his list.

It was then that it was time for his luck to run out.

Right upon the killing the very last person on the list, was Alastor also shot right square in the forehead.

Before his consciousness faded into black, all he could hear was the muffled panic of a stranger who seemed to be apologizing for mistaking him for some sort of animal.

All Alastor could do was chuckle at the irony of the whole situation, the maniacal laughter was the type that only a madman could produce- before everything went dark and he died.

He thought he would never see you again, because surely, his beloved sweetheart would end up in heaven right?

The answer to this would remain a mystery for many decades to come as Alastor descended into Hell and became who is now widely known in Hell as "The Radio Demon".

-> Part 8

#hazbin #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x reader #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x you #fanfic #alastor hazbin #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #alastor the radio demon #radio demon #alastor x y/n #hazbin x reader #alastor radio demon #the radio demon #hazbin x you #hazbin x y/n #hazbin hotel x y/n #x y/n #x reader #x you

[lunargrapejuice]

diluc ragnvindr x fem!reader

picking you up and putting you somewhere safe

“oh, no thank you.”

you had noticed the man's eyes on you from the moment you walked into the bar and it made you think you should have worn something other than a knee length dress that clung to your body. while you had wished for one particular man to see you in it, the very one you were waiting for, this drunkard was not him. 

when he moved closer, not seeming to notice or care about the distance you continued to put between you until you were at the edge of the bar and he asked to buy you a drink while he eyed you up and down, you felt exposed, uncomfortable, but thankful you had chosen the side of the bar that would not have cornered you.

you wondered if charles was in the back room and would mind if you waited there for diluc. surely he would understand once he saw this man and how unwilling he was to leave you alone, he’d probably ask him to leave entirely, but when you eagerly searched around for his familiar face in the busy tavern you could’t find him at all.

“aw, c’mon pretty. ‘s just a drink,” his words were slurred, the smell of alcohol on his breath making you nauseous when he leans in close to you, clumsy and uncaring of your personal space. “i don’ bite.” 

“i said no,” you’re firmer, colder, this time when pull back, trying to create space between you and slow your heart rate that had become frantic, the polite smile you offered on your first decline nowhere to be seen. “please leave me alone.”

and please hurry diluc. you didn’t want to chance waiting in here a moment longer, not when your throat felt tight and you weren’t certain if this man would leave you alone but when you turned to try to make your escape through the back door, you can still feel the closeness of him,  you knew you had been right.

“hey now,” you don’t dare look at him but before you can take more than a step away, you feel a sweaty, too hard grasp of hand clasping onto your arm and it forces you to turn around,” n’ need to be *hick* like that sweets-”

“don’t touch me!” you smack his hand off of you, the sting of it lingering on the back of your hand, an unease strain to your voice. you were beyond anxious to get out of here and go running for diluc, though your outfit and thin sandals would not make for good running attire.

taking quick steps backwards, trying to get away before he could get ahold of you again, before you were going to cry angry tears and make a scene in your boyfriends tavern, your body crashes against something, someone, you hadn't expected to be there. before you can look back to see who it is or even register what’s happening fully, the tavern falls into silence at the breaking of glasses and bottles crashing at your feet and the splash of wine and beer that’s now pooling at your feet and splattered on your legs.

it would have been all of you soaking in alcohol and cut by glass, joined on the floor with poor charles who was mostly unharmed but undoubtedly wet, had it not been for the strong and familiar arm that wraps around your middle and keeps you upright. it all happened in the blink of an eye, had not given you any time to do more than hang on to the black coat you found yourself pressed into and when you open your eyes again, the loveliest shade of red and the deepest black is all you see. 

you clung to the fabric your hands had held countless times, feeling dilucs arm wrap protectively around you tighter as you look up at him. his body was angled to keep you pressed into his side, as if he was hiding you, with him standing between you and the man who wouldn’t leave you alone. you could see the tense set of dilucs jaw and the lick of flames behind his ruby eyes, feel the way his chest rose and fell with heavy breaths that only seemed to fuel the fire. 

you have no idea how he was at your side so quickly. you hadn’t seen or heard him walk in, didn’t know how he could have gotten to as fast as he had with the tavern as busy as it is but here he was, holding you, protecting you.

“diluc-”

“hey! let- let go of me!” the drunk man protests and drowned out your voice. it was then you noticed his outstretched arm and the white knuckle grip diluc had on it. his hands were covered by his gloves but with the way the leather of them and the fabric of the mans long sleeve shirt bunched, the flex of his arm under his jacket, anyone could tell it was not a light grip.

“get out of my tavern,” dilucs voice was deep, commanding, and the only thing to be heard in angels share. the gazes watching you all were visibly taken aback by the young master's cool slipping but you couldn’t deny what it was doing to you either; making your knees weak and heat blossom in your core. “and do not come back.”

diluc let go of his arm, giving him the chance to go without more of a fuss, but the man hadn't backed down. the air was filled with tension that was keeping anyone from even breathing when the drunkard could not stop his running mouth, though he was smart enough to not move any closer.

“‘c’mon! i didn’t mean anythin’” he throws up his hands. “was just trying to show a lonely girl a good time and she-”

“i would advise you to be careful with how you speak about my girlfriend,” there was no doubt diluc was angry, and very quickly losing more of his patience but the way he held you, soft and unwavering, calling you his girlfriend.. it wasn’t that you needed anyone else to hear it but you hearing your title to him said out loud would never fail to make you nearly burst into a dozens of pyro crystals flies.

you bury yourself into dilucs side, trying to hide your flushed state. it had been such a quick change from how anxious you felt before, nearly giving you a whiplash, but diluc had always calmed your worries and made you feel safe. you couldn’t help it even if you tried and he had certainly not made it any easier.

“leave. i will not repeat myself again.”

with a scoff and a hiccup you heard the drunk man stumble away, the moments following remaining quiet until his footsteps disappeared and the door closed behind him. it wasn’t until then that you felt dilucs body relax but it was charles’ voice that broke the silence in the tavern, the chatter of patrons slowly following after.

“everything’s alright folks, we’ll get everything cleaned up and taken care of.”

the firm body you had been tucked into left you too quickly for your liking but diluc did not go far or let his hand be removed from you. glass cracked under his steps in his movements to face you and look you over, frowning further upon seeing the small cuts along the tops of your feet, the countless pieces of glass surrounding your delicate shoes and the red wine stains on your legs going up your shins.

you tried to speak, not caring about the your small injury when you didn’t even know if charles was okay. “charles i’m so-”

before you could finish your words or grasp that you are no longer on your feet, you’re being lifted into the air, diluc ensuring to collect the end of your dress under your knees when he cradles you in his arms and against his chest. the only thing on his mind was your safety and he didn’t care who watched as he held you like this or the way you nuzzle yourself into him and whisper against his collar. 

“i’m okay,” you assure him, not fighting to get out of his hold and letting him carry you towards the back room without another word.

with his heel he kicks the door closed behind him, muffling the usual atmosphere of the tavern that had now returned full force. you can hear the beating of his heart in your ear pressed against him and under its strong melody you truly could have forgotten about the whole thing that led to this.

gently, diluc sets you down on the desk he normally works from, his hands only leaving you to take off his gloves. even when he reaches for the first aid kit in one of the desk drawers his other hand is holding onto yours, letting the thumb you rub along his knuckles ease the flames that were building within him and making him see red.

he had hurried past the crowd when you saw you in distress and all he could think about was protecting you, not letting drunk patrons touch what was not theirs. it hadn’t helped his heart seeing what waited at your feet if you tried to move and he hadn’t thought about anything other than getting you somewhere safe when he scooped you into his arms so easily. even now, even after you told him you were okay, it was as though he had tunnel vision and could only see the cuts and sticky drinks on your skin.

but there’s a pause in his movements, a reluctance to let you go when everything he needs is not within arms reach and in an attempt to calm his worries, you squeeze his hand in yours, relishing in the callouses and scars that you feel amongst the softness of his skin. you didn’t get to feel them nearly enough like this.

it stops him completly.

“i’m sorry,” he says, not meeting your eyes.

“‘luc,” the way you call him never failed to bring those ruby eyes you love back to you and now was no exception. you bring your free hand to his face, the fingers brushing along his cheek, making his heart skip far too many beats, your touch the balm to his unease. “you have no reason to be sorry.”

“i should have been here sooner. i shou-”

“hey,” you stop him before he can blame himself any further, before he gets lost in what should have happened to avoid it all. “i was a little earlier than we agreed but even if i wasn’t, you can’t always be right next to me-”

but oh how he would love to be within the radius of your light with every breath he took.

“- no matter how much i want you to be,” you add, quiet and with tender love in your eyes, the swirling emotions in his own as he leans into your touch making your cheeks warm. “but you’re here now and really, i am okay.”

he takes a step closer to you, his scent and heat enveloping you, the slight chapness of his lips against your forehead bringing to life the butterflies in your stomach, bringing both of your hands to reach for his chest. 

it would still take him cleaning your legs and cuts himself, taking care of every single scrape for him to truly convince himself but your words sooth him nonetheless, as they always have. “i’m grateful for that,” he whispers against your skin, making a silent vow that you would never have to experience anything like that, especially in his own places, again. 

genshin impact masterlist | main masterlist

#diluc #diluc ragnvindr x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #diluc ragnvindr #diluc ragnvindr angst #diluc x reader

[judebelle]

jude being protective over reader when a guy tries to hit on her at a bar omfgfjgfbhgsjb

didn't think so - j.b. x reader

a/n : this took me so long to write cus i got my nails done and ughhhh

cw : smut, swearing, annoying guy at a bar LMAO, unprotected.. wrap b4 u tap, semi-public sex, dom!jude, possessive!jude

pairing : jude bellingham x fem!reader

wc : 2.2k

---

"so, you from 'round here?"

the foreign words hung low in the throbbing atmosphere of a crowded club. the bass reverberated through the floor and neon lights pulsed to the rhythm.

you stopped moving to the music when a stranger approached you. his eyes fixed intently on you. you were left alone in the club when jude had excused himself to go to the restroom. you would've never expected this.

you felt a discomfort in his demeanor, instantly trying to put room between you and the strange man. a smirk played on his lips and his eyes scanned over you, his intentions on full display.

politely, you rejected his presence. "i appreciate the company, but i'm actually here with my boyfriend,"

he dismissed your mention of jude with a wave of his hand. he began to lean in closer, his words becoming increasingly invasive. you scanned the crowd, eagerly and hopelessly awaiting jude's return.

the man grew impossibly more insistent. "come on, sweetheart, we're all here for a good time. loosen up a bit,"

you finally decided on a more direct approach. "really, i'm not interested. i'm here with my boyfriend."

with a sly grin, the persistent stranger continued. "your boyfriend doesn't have to know. let's get out of here, just you and me."

just as you felt his words creep down your spine, jude finally emerged from the restroom, instantly sensing the uncomfortable atmosphere. he quickly maneuvered through the dancing crowd, his eyes not leaving you and the strange man.

he shot the man a piercing stare as he approached the table with long strides. "what's going on here?" he demanded, his voice cutting through the club's music with an edge that you'd never heard from him.

"hey, man, we're just having a good time. no need to be so uptight," the man flashed a toothy grin at jude, who was not having it.

jude's dark eyes flashed with anger, a look so intense even you felt the pressure. he placed a firm and dominating grip on your waist, visibly claiming what's his. "she's not interested. you need to back off and respect that," he commanded.

the stranger looked seemingly amused by jude's words. "oh, come on, don't be such a buzzkill. she seems to be enjoying our conversation just fine."

jude's jaw clenched even tighter. "how about we ask her?" he looked down at you with a raised eyebrow. "babe, are you enjoying this conversation?" when you didn't respond immediately, his grip tightened on your waist. "are you?" you quickly shook your head 'no'.

a cocky smirk broke out on jude's lips. he turned back to the man, "didn't think so," his smirk growing when he saw how intimidated the man was.

"you're testing my patience. i suggest you find another spot in this club. now," jude ordered, his tone sharp.

the man reluctantly walked off to another side of the club. jude kept his dominating hold on your waist, his anger visibly coursing through his features. without turning to face you, his hand switched from your waist to your wrist. his knuckles turned white from his harsh grip. you winced.

"jude, stop! that hurts-"

ignoring you, jude pulled you towards the club bathroom. he kept his painful grip tight. pulling you through bunches of people with a clenched jaw, you were left to mutter excuses and apologies to them. "jude, can you relax? where are we going?"

your questions fell on deaf ears when his gaze was set on the bathroom door. finally reaching it, he opened the door to see no one. he yanked you inside before following. jude shut the door behind him and locked it.

you looked at your wrist that he had stopped squeezing. it was red and tender. "babe.. what's going on?" his eyes flashed down to your wrist, and his gaze softened slightly before hardening again.

he looked back up at you, and there was something different about how he was looking at you. his eyes were glazed over with something... foreign. there was a hunger in his demeanor. in the way he slowly stepped towards you. in the way his hands held onto your waist. in the way spun you and pushed you against the door. in the way his head dipped into the crook of your neck.

his lips pressed hot kisses onto your skin and your eyes shut tight. you gasped out when his soft kissed turned to passionate nips and bites. "jude... not here."

jude's possessive grip softened slightly, his hands now sliding sensuously up your sides. the atmosphere in the bathroom shifted, the air thick with desire.

his mouth left your neck as he leaned in, his lips brushing against the curve of your ear. he whispered, "i can't stand the thought of anyone else trying to get your attention. you drive me crazy. i need you to know you're all mine."

your heart raced at the proximity, breath hitching as jude's words sent shivers down you spine. the muffled music wasn't so loud behind the washroom door, giving your ears a rest. the dim lighting over you illuminated his features in a way that had even you crossing your legs a little.

despite his convincing words, your hesitation was evident. jude's hand slithered to find the end of your dress, but it was so long that by the time he reached the end of it, he was on his knees.

your breath hitched in your throat at the sight of your boyfriend on the floor. jude's big brown eyes peered up at you. "please, y/n. let me show you how much you mean to me." he was... begging.

a quick nod from you was all he needed. you saw his expression change immediately from pleading to dominant. he lifted one of your legs over his shoulder and your hands fell to his shoulders to keep you upright. he moved your skirt to make room for his head, but paused to look up at you, smirking.

"try not to scream."

before you could register jude's words, he had pushed your panties to the side and slotted his mouth on you. everything but profanities erased themselves from your mind. one of your hands found his hair and tugged, hard. jude's lips spread you open as he sucked your clit with fervor.

you found yourself whining when his movements slowed, gradually becoming gentle. you could see jude's occasional peaks up towards you, watching you melt at his touch.

"jude, i can't take it. please..."

you could feel him grin against you. "you look so hot when you're desperate, y/n." the way his name fell from his lips had you biting yours. he finally decided to stop teasing and fully indulge in you. he pressed his mouth flush against your warmth, allowing his tongue to explore every nook and cranny.

the feeling of him forcing you back onto the cold bathroom door sent trembles down your body. you began feeling that familiar feeling of tight heat start unravelling in your stomach. before you knew it, you were practically yanking jude's hair. "please, don't stop."

gasps were flying from your plump lips so fast your heart was about to fly out of your chest. "fuck, jude, don't stop!" unwillingly, your arms were flying around, trying to grab, to hold on to something.

thump, after thump, you helplessly clawed for anything to ground yourself. you ultimately ended up with your hands pulling jude as far as you could between your legs.

he couldn't stop even if he wanted to. if anything, he sped up, his tongue lapping at your juices. "jude, jude," your vision went white and your back arched against the smooth door. the muted music was overpowered by an unfamiliar ring in your ears.

jude looked up at your chest heaving over him. the sight of you all fucked out had him smirking, his ego only growing. he gently licked around your clit, cleaning up any mess you left for him.

he hummed as your sweet juices sat on his tongue. you finally opened your eyes that you didn't realize were screwed tight and let go of his hair.

"i told you to try not to scream." he smiled as he got up off his knees, keeping his eyes on you even when he was towering above yours.

"that was me trying."

his eyes fell to your cleavage and he couldn't help but lean in and press hungry kisses to your collarbone. "not done with you yet, sweetheart."

the excitement of not knowing what was going to happen next had you pooling for him again.

jude's hands dropped to your hips for the nth time tonight before he abruptly spun you around and pressed your chest to the door. your hands slammed against the door to stop your face from smashing into it.

you felt jude pushing your dress up hastily and pulling your underwear down. you didn't move, waiting for his next move patiently. although much patience wasn't needed since jude was moving as fast as he could.

you could hear jude unzipping his own pants and you couldn't help but bite your lip in anticipation. as gross as it might've been, your right cheek was pressed onto the door. you couldn't care less, though, not when jude was pulling himself from his pants behind you.

a groan fell from his mouth so quiet the music almost drowned it out. he stroked himself behind you even though he was already rock hard. he leaned against your back to whisper in your ear shamelessly,

"i know i told you not to scream, but this time i wanna hear you. i want everyone in this fucking club to hear how good i make you feel. maybe then those fucking pricks'll back off."

his hand moved some of your hair from your nape.

"think you can do that for me, princess?"

you eagerly nodded against the door, mouth too dry to speak. he smiled, "good."

jude pulled himself back before his hand grazed over the curve of your ass, his other resting against your lower stomach before he pushed himself in. he went so deep he could feel himself in your stomach, against his own hand.

it was as if he was hitting your vocal cords the way not a single sound could be heard from you despite your mouth being open so wide. jude's pelvis met your ass and he couldn't help but shudder. "fuck..." he whispered out against your back.

he finally started to move slowly, more so for himself than for you since you were squeezing his cock so tight.

jude dropped his hands down to your hips to keep you firmly pressed to the door. "don't move." he growled out. you had never seen this side of jude, but you weren't complaining. you found obeying him to be more enjoyable than expected.

jude's hips sped up, sending jolts of pleasure through your bones. strangled gasps and pants shot out of your mouth, your hot breath fanning over the door.

"that's a good girl, yeah? taking this cock so well." one of jude's hands left your hip to grab your hair and tug. he pulled your neck back until he had access to your neck. he dipped down and sucked marks on the soft skin. your moans turned raspy and you found yourself once again searching for something to hold on to.

your back was arched against his torso as he fucked up into you. you could feel every part of his cock and it was driving you dumb. your mouth was left agape as moans ran from your lips and into the thick air.

"tell me baby, y'think that prick from earlier could fuck you like this?" you gasped as jude's thrusts grew impossibly more rough. "no! god, no... only you can do this to me." he sent a harsh smack to your ass before smoothing it over gently. the pleasure and jolt of pain send your neck flying back further.

"jude, i'm close." you warned and jude kept his antics up. he whispered in your ear. "fuck, i am too..." he groaned out and let go of your hair. he straightened his back and went back to holding your hips in place.

you clenched around his dick, whimpers falling from your mouth. jude's thrusts faltered for the first time tonight. his hand slid down to rub your clit and bring you to your second high of the night. your breath caught in your throat and your eyes rolled back in your skull.

"god, jude, i'm gonna.." you couldn't even finish your sentence so jude did it for you. "cum, y/n. want you to cum all over my cock, shit!" obeying him once again, you finally let that string inside you snap, fully surrendering to the pleasure.

your vision clouded black this time, and you came with a sharp cry, "jude!" screaming his name, you trembled under him. the feeling of your release and juices all over his cock sent him over the edge himself. "fuck!" he groaned out and came with a final thrust. he buried himself deep, sending his seed as far as he could.

both of your pants and gasps were lost in the thumping music of the club. jude helped you stand straight before fixing his clothes. you pulled your panties back and tugged your dress down. you heard jude zip up his pants and you turned to look at him.

he was already looking at you, a smirk playing at his lips.

#jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham smut #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham fluff #jude bellingham angst x reader #jude bellingham angst #jude bellingham smut fanfic #jude bellingham smut x reader #jude bellingham fluff x reader #jude bellingham drabble #jude bellingham series #jude bellingham x fem!reader #fanfic #fanfiction #football x reader #football #fem!reader #football smut #neybelle #football fanfic #smut #angst #fluff #football oneshot #football fanficiton #futbol #soccer

[selarina]

continuation to this

so, that night gojo satoru leaves with no jacket and half a broken heart and for the first time since he was 12 years old, he takes a sip of alcohol as he slouches against his home bar.

it's bitter, and it tastes a bit too much like soy sauce for his liking but he sips and sips until he sees the engraved "S.G" inscription at the bottom of his glass.

"hello, husband," a voice comes from behind him, interrupting his sob fest.

and for a moment, for dumb little moment, he thinks it's you. the voice sounds nothing like you though, it's far too high-pitched, but he's dreamt of this far too much for him to imagine someone else calling him husband.

aya tsukino materialises next to him, and seats herself on a seat beside him. she moves with a certain a quiet sleekness that he barely caught her moving from behind him. or maybe, he's finally out of it. "excited for the wedding, then?" she deadpans as she pours herself a drink.

"thrilled," he parrots back, merely a barren echo of emotions.

there's more truth in this room than there's been in your shared room for weeks. because it's simple really— gojo doesn't want to marry her, and aya couldn't care less as long as she got the money his family had.

before they had even exchanged any words, it was clear that they had this silent agreement that the two of them had little to do with love and everything to do with societal expectations and status.

as gojo attempts to take another sip from his empty company, he can't help but replay the events of the evening in his mind. your anger, and the way you stood up for the love you believed in. it'll haunt him for the rest of his life.

he wonders if you'll genuinely come to understand that he did have you in mind when he left you. he doesn't want you to be a mistress, a dirty little secret. he's seen how it broke his mother apart. how could he wish the same fate upon you knowing how his mother's life ended?

you're strong, and he believes you will persist and he will see at the end of his life sleeping grey and old in his bed as he stares at the way the sunlight hits your laugh lines.

but he also remembers the way you cried in secret. he never brought it up, he never brings it up. he was just waiting for the day you'd be comfortable enough to cry in front of him but for now, he settles for meaningless presents he brings afterwards to wipe off the blue from your face.

he places his glass down with a clink, and he hears a resembling clink from aya. "i'll ask you this only once, gojo satoru," she speaks up. "do you want this marriage?"

"i never wanted this marriage," his reply is immediate.

"of course not," she says. "i meant, do you still want to go through with this?"

he doesn't respond. the both of them know the answer to that, it's written all too clearly on his soppy little face.

"what if i don't," he finally speaks. "what about your money? your status?"

"my money..." she feigns to ponder. "as someone who's always sought out money, i can tell you one thing about it. money, it comes and it goes. i'll find another way as i always do," she says. "i will be fine."

"your father—"

"—is a terrible man, who will go on his pissy campaign against me but i hope it's not presumptuous of me to expect you to come to defence when needed. you know, for all the trouble?"

he chuckles with no mirth. seems trouble is all he's capable of causing the past few days. "of course," he responds.

aya smiles, she supposes there's one benefit of having the strongest sorcerer as her ex-fiancé. she stands up, as she pulls her coat snug against her body as she prepares to leave. "besides, you're not the only rich high-status man in town, you know?"

"well, they're not all me," he replies. his smug demeanour returning to him like it's breathing a new life into him.

"wow, a bonus too," she chuckles.

"and who was that handsome man with you on friday? blonde, glasses, chiselled like a—"

"nanami kento," he replies with a grin.

"nanami kento. is he rich?"

"not as rich as you," he replies. it's true. he's rich, he worked on wall street after all and nanami is a smart man, he has so much in his savings account, it's enough to feed an entire nuclear family. why he saves up is something that's beyond gojo.

"well, he's handsome. tell mr. kento i said hello," she smiles facetiously.

"tsk, fine." he grins again. "get out of here."

-

it's been a week since you heard about the wedding falling apart. and since, you've been hearing about it daily, almost hourly if you're being honest. after all, you're at the centre of it. it only makes sense.

there's a whole slew of narratives running around, cheating, money laundering, even murder. but the most popular one was about how aya was the rosaline to your romeo and juliet. gojo's as romeo as he comes — handsome, influential and maybe a bit endearingly dumb but you fail to see how you're juliet. she was rich, influential, beautiful — everything you've been starkly reminded that you are not.

but everyone's talking about the romance of it all and you haven't heard from gojo himself so it's strange to take their words to mind or heart. you ignore them, forming a ready-made response sheet in your head to every possible question you encounter across the week. they become white noise, as you go through your day like a pre-programmed robot.

but that changes on a hot, dusty afternoon as you're sitting in a cafe, awaiting a man you were advised against seeing, and he's late. of course, he's fucking late. he broke up with you and he has the audac—

he walks in. he looks exhausted, lankier than usual, and there's a cruel part of you that likes it. to know he looks as miserable as you've been seeing. there's the other, familiar part of you that wants to run your fingers against his sensitive eyes as you feed him with the warmth of the diner's food.

but you do neither, you neither smile nor frown. you sit in place as you wait for him to come and sit opposite you.

"hey," his voice sounds gravelly. "i'm sorry i'm late."

"nothing i'm not used to," you reply with a glare as you cross your arms.

his hands reach for the menu as he plays with the edges of the paper. he always orders the same breakfast meal from this place. he must be nervous.

"i... i wanted to talk to you," he starts. "i want you back."

"excuse me? you can't just—"

"i'm willing to do anything. anything. if you want to take it slow, i understand. if you want to take your time, i understand. if you want me to get down on my knees and beg, i understa—"

"do it."

his eyes widen, you can tell — even though the black glasses are blocking his eyes, you can tell. it only lasts for a split second, because you blink with contempt and he's beside you. on his knees, as he stares up at you. he barely stares up at you — he's so tall, he's almost eye-to-eye with you. but even so he hunches his back, makes himself small.

"i'm sorry," he says again, as he takes off his glasses placing it onto the table in front of you. his eyes are alarmingly blood-red, and it takes every muscle in your body to hold back from running your fingers over his. "like i said, i'll do anything. just pleas— take me back."

you stare, and he stares back at you. you're too lost in the way he looks at you — at your mercy — that you miss the strange and baffled looks from people around you. and when you finally do, your cheeks flush with heat.

"okay," you say. " please, get up now."

"no, let me— let me stay," he says. pleads. "just let me stay until you take me back."

"fine," you sigh, as if there was any real objection from your side. "get up now."

"really?" his blood-red eyes gleam, you could almost see a tinge of the vibrant blue coming back to life.

"yes," you groan as your hand grip his elbow. "i was willing to be your fucking mistress. did you really thin— i would say— mmpph"

and just like that he's up, sliding next to you on your seat, as he kisses you. you're ashamed to admit that your first thought was the idea of getting kicked out for public indecency but your second thought was about how you think you could stay like this forever. despite the public gawking at you through mean and baffled stares.

"i'm serious about doing whatever it takes," he says, sincerity laced in his voice. "you shouldn't let me get away with this lightly."

you smile. "I hope you mean it," you reply. "and i won't. i’ll make you work for it, just a little."

he nods with a smile, "anything. i'll make it up to you."

"you have to do the chicken dance," you say, seriously and firmly.

"what?"

"you have to do the chicken dance. right now in the middle of the diner and i'm taking a video," you pull out your phone. "and... i'm sending it to nobara."

his eyes widen, almost like he's feeling actual fear. "not nobara," he gasps. "but she's so mean, baby."

"well, you said anything."

he sighs. gojo looks around the crowded diner, his tall frame rigid and tense. he glances at you, then at your phone, and finally resigns himself to the absurd request.

"fine," he mutters, standing up from the seat as he begins flapping his arms and doing a clumsy version of the chicken dance in the middle of the diner.

#the idea was to make gojo as pathetic as possible #but ya'll asked and i'm delivering #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #gojo satoru angst #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk angst #gojo satoru #gojo x reader angst #jjk x reader angst #jujutsu kaisen angst #jujutsu kaisen x reader angst

[silverstonesainz]

five minutes

─── its only five more minutes

lando norris x fewtrell!femreader warnings; none 1.7k words

lando’s arms are crossed over his chest, nodding every now and again as he pretends to listen to the other person talk. you know he’s pretending because his head is tilted ever so slightly, so that his eyes can look just past the person and right at whatever is on the wall behind them. this time around, it’s a television playing a new advert starring the driver himself. he scrunches his nose when he sees himself pop up on screen, and forces himself to look back at the person who hasn’t noticed that he’d lost the driver three sentences ago. the conversation eventually comes to a close with an exchange of smiles and hopeful goodbyes. 

you watch his shoulders deflate the moment the person is out of sight, his eyelids drooping down to his phone. he taps away, clenches his jaw all the while before he slips his phone back into his pocket. but his jaw doesn’t let, you see the tendons moving about underneath his skin. you push around your purse as you make your way over to him. he sees you, you don’t see the moment he does, the way he smiles when he sees a familiar face approaching. 

you pull out a pack of gum, shaking it with a smile. “gum?”

he chuckles, straightening his posture as he reaches over to pluck the pack from your fingers. “am i doing it again?” you hum a confirmation, “thanks mins.” 

mins. he’d given you the nickname when you were six, he was eight. mini-max, is what he called you. you hated it, and he loved calling you it. he reveled in the scowl you’d give him every time, and it only encouraged him to call you that. and the longer he did, the older you got, the nickname evolved. mini-max, to mini, and now just mins. 

you pull out a piece of gum for yourself before popping the pack back into your purse. lando looks around the room, “where’s your brother?”

your head spins around, searching for a head of curly hair and a man of small stature. but you can’t see over the mess of people at the event. you tiptoe, crane your neck, but to no avail you don’t find him. so you shrug your response, turning to look up at your brother’s best friend, who is too busy looking around the room to see your response. 

“if i had to guess, probably taking advantage of the open bar.” 

lando laughs. he tries to soften the shrill sounds, muffles it into a soft chuckle as he leans his weight onto the cocktail table. “probably.” he agrees. 

he indulges in a bit more conversation with you. the easy kind, the kind that makes your swell and make you believe that for a second this could work. this. you and him. 

“lando,” his pr officer, harry, appears by his side, offers you a curt smile before looking back at the driver, “a potential sponsor would like to speak to you.” 

you try to hide the disappointment, put up a supportive front even as the british boy looks at you apologetically. he huffs a breath, looks over at harry to ask if it was really even necessary. but the man is stubborn, shakes his head as he stresses the importance of his next conversation. lando concedes, asks for just a second and sends his pr person off to wait for him a few feet away. the boy is apologetic, though he shouldn’t be. its work. this was work. 

“it’s alright, i’ll be right here.”

“promise?” 

“of course.” 

he smiles, relieved, “okay. i’ll only be five minutes. don’t move a muscle, mins.” 

he smiles at you, miserable and apologetic, as he takes careful steps backwards. he doesn’t quite take his eyes off you, ignoring the man in orange walking by him, playfully rolling his eyes as his companion continues to yap on about things he’d surely forget in the next ten minutes anyways. lando doesn’t turn away until he bumps into a table and has to apologize to the people standing by it. you laugh behind your palm, try to hide the all-too-wide smile and soften a giggle much too loud for the situation. he turns his head one more time, almost like could hear your amusement from across the room. he grins widely when he sees the inexplicable joy on your face over his embarrassment, grins because your laugh makes the night a little more bearable. 

at least you think that’s why.

“what are you laughing at?” 

your posture stiffens at the sound of your brother’s voice, hear beating quickly out of nerves. you turn to look at max, who is holding a glass of something in his hand and his eyebrow raised like he wants in on the joke. 

“lando uh, he bumped into the cocktail table.”

max nods into the rim of his glass as he takes a sip, “course he did. klutz.” 

lando is deep in conversation now, a little more enthusiastic than earlier. he’s moving his hands a lot more, and his smile had yet to fade away. there’s a bit of jealousy— or maybe neediness, when you see him like this. you wish you had five more minutes of his time, just five more before he had to be lando norris, mclaren’s golden boy. you just wanted five more minutes of just lando. 

but you always ask for five more minutes. you’d been asking for five more minutes since you were sixteen, when lando’s 100th goodbye hurt like it was the first. five more minutes on the phone, five more minutes at the family dinner. it’s only five more minutes. 

you miss his eyes, you miss his presence. it’s silly really, how much you can miss a person even if they’re only across the room. 

“stop that.” 

max’s voice takes you out of your trance, pries your eyes away from his curly haired friend who continues to wow the person before him, forces you to look over at him the disappointed look on his face.

“what?”

“you know what,” max quips, “don’t look at lando like you’re in love with him.” 

“shut up max.” the embarrassment rises to your cheeks, turns them red and makes the skin hot. 

“i’m being serious y/n, you can’t fall in love with him.” there isn’t a hint of humor on your brother’s face, not a tremor of amusement. he’s stoic, dead serious about what he’s just said. 

“you don’t really get a say over who i fall in love with max, it's really none of your business.”

it’s not a no, not a denial to the unasked question over your feelings for lando. you turn away from max, but even then you can still see the way his face contorts to one of realization. you try to ignore the way your brother puts together how in deep you are for his best friend, the worry turn to panic, then to a grimace you can’t quite read otherwise. 

max puts his drink down on the table, takes a step closer to you to add a pit of privacy to the conversation at hand. “it’s my business if it’s my best friend. it’s not a good idea kid, i could give you a million reasons why it isn’t a good idea.” 

“give me one.” you dare, words hissed through your teeth. “if you have a million, give me one.” 

there’s a bit of hesitation from max. he looks over at his friend, who has yet to notice his presence in the room, then back over at you, his little sister. “because he’s my best friend. and when he inevitably breaks your heart— because he will, it’s lando. when he does, i’ll have to hate him. i will hate him because i love you. and i will hate him even if you ask me not to.” max looks over at his best friend, who finally sees him and waves over. max returns the gesture, pretends he’s not breaking your heart for him. 

lando’s skin glows under the warm light of the room. curls are defined atop his head, trimmed and kept with purpose. he looks heavenly, and it hurts to see him this way. 

it hurts to be in love with him.

“he’s going to hurt you,” max whispers, “and i’ll never be able to forgive him for it. and then i’ll lose him too. and i can’t lose him.” 

tears sting your eyes, “you don’t give him enough credit.” 

“you give him too much.” 

you turn away before the tears fall from your eyes. you’ll be damned if lando catches you crying, damned if you had to explain why. so you turn away, the back of your hand coming up to swipe away the tears on your cheeks. 

“i have to go.” you mumble. max sighs your name, begs you not to, but you shake your head, “i’m fine. it’s fine.” 

it’s not fine. you’re not fine.

“i’m just trying to protect you.” max mumbles. 

maybe he was. maybe one day you’d thank him for saving you the trouble of getting involved with lando. one day, you’ll be happy with your version of mr. perfect and thank the heavens that your brother talked you out of a bad idea like lando. one day you’ll be okay.

but for now, you’re not. in that moment, it hurt. you didn’t feel protected. you feel exposed, stripped of security and left bare at the cold truth. for now, you’d revel in the heartache of realizing lando could never be yours, that he was always going to be as unattainable as the five more minutes you used to pray for. 

“just tell lando…” you start. you turn your head, look over your shoulder and over at lando who laughs at something in the middle of the conversation. you wish you could laugh with him, wish you were in on the joke. you wish you were by him, part of this great big world he’d created for himself. 

you turn away, shaking your head and pulling your purse tighter against you. “… never mind.” you finish.

you duck out of the room, ignoring the way your brother calls your name, or the soft sound of lando asking you where you were going as you slip out the door.

you wish you could go back five minutes, before the heartache and the bitter truth. just five minutes.

d rambles. . . i have such mixed emotions about this one and i almost wanted to delete it but. here we are. lets just say i hate the first half, like the second. so ya. anyways. thx for reading! and saying it just to say it: don't be a ghost reader! i hope you liked this one & as always, feedback is always always appreciated.

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris imagine #lando norris one shot #f1 one shot #f1 imagine #lando norris angst

[vivwritesfics]

Set The World On Fire

Chapter Two

Lando Norris had been incredibly angry when they met. Incredibly angry, but sweet enough to help her. Turns out he just needed somebody to talk to, somebody to be there for him.

He was easy to fall for, and that put her in a world of danger

Mafia AU

1.7K

Warnings: drinking, drunk driving (nobody gets hurt but I don't condone this)

Series Masterlist

Lando wasn't in a bad mood when he returned to the club. Actually talking to somebody about his little problem seemed to have helped, even if only slightly.

He sat himself back in his booth and got himself a fresh whisky. He didn't want the dancers, he never did. He surveyed the people coming in and out of his club. The man she'd entered with was still there, trying to chat up his bar maid. He had to back off or Lando was gonna be all over him, throwing him out of his club.

As the night progressed the club emptied out. Thursdays were never a busy night. Normally Lando didn't bother coming on a Thursday, but he needed to get out of the house, to get drunk.

He poured himself another whisky.

Suddenly four men came walking through the door of his club. Lando was stood to attention, recognising them all too well. Fuck, they were here already? That meant he was, too.

Lando watched as Sainz's men milled about his club, staring at his girls. They whistled and threw their money about, some of them ordering drinks at the bar. They spoke in Spanish, Lando not quite able to understand what they were saying.

He had two more whiskies before the club closed. The rowdy group of men were pushed outside, the door locking them out. The staff set on cleaning the place up while Lando had one more whisky and made his way out of his club.

He was very drunk when he drove home. It was dangerous, a wonder he made it home at all. There were no other cars on the road and he was driving a lot slower than he thought he was, which must have helped.

When he made it back to his family estate, there was another car parked out the front. Lando climbed out of his own. He left the car door open as he walked up the steps and pushed open the front door. Somebody would take care of his car for him, probably.

His sister was asleep. Even drunk Lando could tell that. He tried to be quiet as he moved through the house, but he knocked into every piece of furniture, cursing with volume as he did so.

There were voices. They were hushed, like the people didn't want to be heard. Lando tried to follow them, tried to locate the voices. In his sizable house he walked into the wrong room a few times before he stumbled into the kitchen.

There his sister was with a glass of milk. "Hey," he said as he leaned against the door. The room was spinning as he ran his hands through his hair, trying to ease the headache that was already starting, and loosened his tie.

And then he spotted who his sister was talking to. Carlos fucking Sainz. Lando wasn't entirely sure how to react to that. His eyes went wide as he looked at the man that used to be his best friend. "Carlos. You're not meant to be here."

The look his sister was giving him, she looked so disappointed with him. But she usually did when he returned from the club. It was something Lando was used to by now. He didn't care anymore.

The longer Lando stared at Carlos, the more enraged he became. He stumbled into the room, grabbed a hold of his sister and tried to push her behind him. "Stay away from my-" he hiccupped "-sister."

Everything was blurry. Carlos's face was like an out of focus picture as he stared at it. "Lando," his sister said as she grabbed a hold of him and walked him over to the kitchen table. Reluctantly, he sat down in the chair she had pulled out for him and continued to stare at Carlos as she ran to grab him a glass of water.

"Get the fuck out of my kitchen." It was sudden and abrupt, but it was unsurprising. His words were slurred, but Carlos and his sister understood him anyway.

"Lando, be nice," she said as she put the water down and sat beside him.

But Carlos shook his head, his hair bouncing about. "No, he is right," he said. "I should not have come early. I apologise."

Lando didn't care about his apology. He didn't want to hear it, he wanted him out of his house. "You stay. We're having words," he commanded and Carlos obeyed. He stayed sat in his seat, his hands clasped in front of him.

He told his sister to go to bed and she did. She left her glass of milk where it was a disappeared further into the house. Lando didn't look at her when she left. He kept his focus on Carlos.

Even when she was out of the room, Lando knew she was still listening in. On shaky legs he stood and pushed the kitchen door shut, slamming it in front of him.

There he stayed for just a minute. The weight of the gun in his pocket was incredibly light. He could have pulled it out and shot Carlos in the head, nobody had to know. Except his men were here with him. If he turned up dead, there would be an all out war.

But it would have been so easy.

Lando turned and took his seat. He sat and let out a breath, one that stank of whisky. "Why the fuck are you here?" Lando spat at him. He made a gesture with his arms as he spoke, one big enough to knock over his glass of water. "Why the fuck are you here with my sister?"

"You're drunk, Lando."

Of course he was drunk. It didn't take a genius to work that out/ "You're not supposed to be here until tomorrow."

"My father had another business to attend to," Carlos answered quickly.

"Well, why did you come here?"

Carlos stared at him for a moment. This wasn't the Lando he once knew. "We were friends once upon a time," he answered. "Do you remember that, Lando? Do you remember when we were children?"

"Yes Carlos. I remember being a kid. I remember our fathers pointing guns at each other."

Carlos shook his head. "No, I'm talking about when we were boys and we'd spend all day playing together. We'd chase each other around the garden while our fathers did business."

"What's your point?"

"What happened to you, Lando?"

"I grew up."

***

The white card was on the counter that separated her kitchen from her living room. She hadn't called yet, hadn't wanted to seem too desperate. But it wasn't like they had been flirting. He clearly just wanted some company.

In her pyjamas she watched television, a bowl of popcorn in her lap. The date had been atrocious, but the night wasn't all bad.

The club had been sleazy, sure, but she hadn't minded it. The back room was... nice. There had been paperwork on the floor and a full cabinet of booze to the left of the desk. It hadn't looked like a typical back office. But Lando had been nice. He had been lovely, actually.

She looked back at the white card on her counter top. It was too early to call. The club would probably be closed and he certainly wouldn't be there.

She didn't know what was going on in her city, that there was a crime family operating everything. She didn't know about the mafia families that ruled the world, or that she had just met the man set to lead one of them. She didn't know about Hamilton and how he ruled over everything.

Her phone buzzed on the coffee table in front of her.

Where'd you go? Came a text from the man she had left in the club.

He'd only just noticed. It had been several hours, and he'd only just noticed. She didn't respond. She blocked his number and placed her phone down beside her, returning her attention to her movie.

But then she got an idea. If that was Lando's number on the little white card, then she could text him, right. If it was the number for the club, then the text wouldn't go through, and she wouldn't be missing out on anything.

She quickly grabbed the white card from the counter and put the number into her phone. Lando - Strip Club. The contact name made it sound so much more sleazy than it was. He should have been sleazy. He was in his early twenties and he owned a strip club - was there anything sleazier?

Is this Lando from the club? She texted and put her phone down on the coffee table in front of her.

Just a few minutes later it vibrated. Who the fuck is this? Not the friendliest of responses, sure, but it didn't entirely come as a surprise. But at least she knew she had his number and not the number for the club.

That was when she realised she never told him her name. Even if she said it to him, he wouldn't know. It's the girl from the club, the one you called a cab for, she sent.

Those three little dots appeared at the bottom of the screen. Seconds later, a text came though. Let me switch you to my personal phone.

It was another few seconds before another text came through, this time from a different number. Hey club girl, it's Lando, the text said. She saved it to her phone again, under the same contact number.

Club girl has a name, you know she sent back, hoping he'd view it in jest. It's Y/N, btw - i'm Y/N, btw

nice to finally have a face to the name, Lando responded. pretty name for a pretty face

Oh, that had to be flirting, she decided. There was no way to read it as anything but. So, she tried to reply with something equally as flirty, but it ended up just being awkward.

It was a good thing Lando liked awkward.

Permanent Taglist: @biancathecool @rewmuslupin @prettiest-at-the-party @hellowgoodbye @minkyungseokie @formulaal @darleneslane @hiireadstuff @urfavnoirette @goldenharrysworld @andydrysdalerogers @hrts4scarr

Series Taglist (OPEN): @millinorrizz @cinnamongirlontv @sainzluvrr @aquangxl @llando4norris @hollie911 @drunkinthemiddleoftheday @queenofmanydreams @somepeoplemaybe @shobaes @thatsusbitch @ibanstro @sobersidedly @ririgy @barcelonaloverf1life @hotbuns13 @dinodumbass @bellezaycafe @maddie-naps @yl90 @itscrzy

#lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris fluff #lando norris smut #lando norris x reader smut #lando norris x you #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula one #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #ln4 #ln4 imagine #ln4 x reader #mafia!f1 #mafia!au

[buckyalpine]

Bucky likes what he sees

Imagine Bucky goes out with the team for drinks, staying at the bar nursing on a drink while his eyes linger on the pretty girl in a red dress. It’s like she wanted his attention, the material hugging her body perfectly while her hips sway, her head tilted back when she laughs at something her friend says. They lock eyes for a second, and God does he love that smile- 

“Why don’t you go over and talk to her” Sam nudged Bucky’s shoulder when he notices the pretty thing Bucky’s been eyeing, the girl equally flirty, giving him shy smiles every so often, “C’mon, she’s into you” 

“Knock it off” Bucky huffed, shaking his head and going back to his drink while Steve takes his turn to encourage his bestfriend. 

“Maybe buy her a drink, see how it goes” he offers but the deadpan look he gets back is enough for him to snort and raise his hands in defeat. Bucky is perfectly happy just watching, noting every dip and wine of her waist, her dress riding up ever so slightly with the movement of her body. His eye’s narrow when he sees someone try to sneak their hands on her from behind, only to be turned down when she moved away. 

However the guy doesn’t seem to get it.

He’s back again, this time trying to grab her with more force, pushing his hips against her ass. 

Bucky doesn’t like it. 

Steve and Sam exchange knowing glances with each other when they see his jaw clench, the rest of the team also now quietly watching what the super solider would do. Nat and Tony noticed the sparkle of a diamond ring, huffing when she sees it’s on her ring finger. 

“Isn’t that a wedding ring? Whole ass rock on her finger” 

“Never mind, I think she’s marr-

Before they could say anything else, Bucky is on his feet, striding over to the dance floor, eyes locked on the man pawing at the doll that had his attention all night.  

“Don’t touch my wife” Bucky growled, shoving the man off, letting him stumble onto the floor, his voice dying down immediately when he noticed who was towering over him. He scrambled away without looking back while the rest of the team stayed frozen in place, jaws all on the floor, watching Bucky pull you into him with ease. He smoothed down the red material of your dress, walking you over to the bar where there was a bit more light, hardly noticing everyone staring at you both. 

“You okay, babydoll?” Bucky held your waist, looking you over, his fingers tracing over your face, his arm tightly hugging you. 

“I’m okay” You nodded, standing on your toes to peck his lips, your hand’s resting on your husbands chest, nuzzling into him. “Wondered how long you’d last just sitting there” You giggled while he smirked, kissing the top of your head. 

“Well, I didn’t do anything until someone touched you” Bucky pouted in defense, making you melt over how protective he was. 

“Thank you for saving me Mr. Barnes” you whispered while he looked down at you with heart eyes, taking your hand in his, placing a kiss on the ring that sat on your finger, the one that he spent months picking and designing just for you. 

“Wife?” Sam broke the silence while everyone else continued to look at you both in disbelief. 

“Oh” Bucky blushed, blinking with owlish eyes, his baby blues pleading with you to take over because he doesn’t know what to say. “This-this is my wife, y/n” He tried to bite back a shy smile but it was no use, his cheeks dusted pink, feeling giddy and fuzzy with you beside him. 

“Come again. Wife?” 

“Uh-yeah” He tried to hide behind you through it was no use, his much larger and taller form still clearly visible. 

“What’s terminator doing”

“This...this is the winter soldier everyone is so scared of..for fucks sake, are you trying to hide behind her?!”

“How long has this little secret been going on for” 

“thryrs” Bucky mumbled but no one else hears it except for Steve, given his enhanced hearing.

“THREE YEARS?!” 

“Steve, I can explain-

“JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES”

“Tony- 

“YOU BITCH”

Bucky groaned, tucking his face into your neck, wrapping his arms around your waist, completely tongue tied. He was going to introduce you to the team at some point, he just didn’t imagine it would be like this, he also didn’t anticipate feeling this shy. 

“You know you can blink twice if he’s been holding you hostage” Sam cackled at the way your 6ft soldier clung onto you, refusing to look at his friends, your hand gently patting his head, rolling your eyes at his antics.

“If it helps, he talks about you all of the time” You smiled, only to have Bucky frown on the inside for you exposing him. 

“No, I don’t” His muffled voice vibrated against your neck, reluctantly pulling away, “Maybe only about Steve” 

“Uh huh, sure” 

“Well, as you can see, I didn’t need to talk to her, she’s already mine” Bucky grinned, kissing your cheek, his mind now fully focused on bending you over on the dance floor but- 

“You’re not getting away that easily Barnes, sit down, we’ll ask the questions” Tony stated, while everyone moved to one side, leaving the other side empty for you and Bucky. 

“Question 1. What’s your full legal name”

“James-

“LIAR”

“Steve-

“Bitch” 

It was going to be a long night. 

#bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes drabbles #bucky barnes secret relationship #bucky barnes x fluff #Bucky Barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky x fluff #bucky x f reader #bucky x Female Reader #James Buchanan Bucky Barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #marvel fluff #avengers fluff #bucky barnes #bucky #Bucky Barnes x f!reader #bucky fanfic #bucky fan fiction #bucky fan fic #bucky fan fics #bucky barnes fanfic

[viixenvi]

𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐮𝐬 | 18+

Summary: You and the rest of the Avengers decided to host a party at the tower to celebrate Tony's birthday. After some drinks, a guy comes up to you and you start to flirt. Unaware of the metal-armed super soldier who seems to get increasingly angrier the more he watches you with another guy.

Characters: Jealous!Bucky, Fem!Reader

Warnings: Jealousy, possessiveness, smut, oral (male receiving), teasing, praise, nicknames (doll, baby, love)

A/N: Not me disappearing for so long and then posting this. As always, forgive me for any mistakes, this was not proofread.

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐃𝐍𝐈

"Come on Tony," you groan, dragging Tony behind you as you walk to the elevator. You just needed to bring him to the top floor so everyone could surprise him. Except this proved to be exceptionally difficult because Tony had wanted to stay in his lab all day.

"Why do I have to come with you, there are like fifty other people you could ask," Tony crosses his arms, leaning back against the back wall of the elevator. You nervously spin the ring around your index finger as you wait for the elevator to ding.

When it finally does you step out first and rush next to Steve, who is holding a party hat for Tony. Tony walks out and asks Jarvis to turn on the lights, that's when everyone jumps up and yells "Surprise!"

Tony stumbles back and looks around, laughing. "You guys remembered!" He walks around, shaking hands and greeting people. You take this chance to slip away to the bar. You didn't drink anymore, it was affecting your ability to think right when you were out saving people.

You ordered an iced tea and leaned against the bar, watching people dance to the deafening music. "So, what are you doing at the bar by yourself?" A voice shouts next to you. You turn to see a very handsome man, he's much taller than you, holding a drink in his hand. You've never seen him before so you assumed he was a friend of Tony.

"Searching for the love of my life of course," You joke as you sip your drink. He laughs and leans closer so you can hear him.

"I'm Jacob, You work with Tony right?" Jacob asks you. You nod as you look back at the crowd of people. You were searching for someone, and he didn't seem to be there.

"Tony can be a bit uptight huh?" Jacob jokes. You laugh and turn back to him.

"A little? That man is the most uptight person I've ever met," You go to take a sip of your drink but someone is grabbing your arm and pulling you away. You turn your head and get a glimpse of a metal arm. "Bucky? What the hell? I was talking to him!" You exclaim as Bucky continues to walk until he finds an empty room.

He lets go of you and locks the door behind him. "You didn't need to talk to him anymore," He says, clenching his jaw as he stands in front of you.

"And you get to decide that?" You catch a whiff of alcohol and you sigh. "Are you drunk right now?" You go to walk out but Bucky pins you to the wall.

"Only had two drinks doll." He leans in closer, his lips grazing your neck as you take deeper breaths. "I didn't like the way that guy was so close to you. Whispering in your ear and making you laugh," Bucky pulls away to look at you for a moment. You can tell he's not drunk, so he's jealous?

"Bucky you can't be seriously jealous of that guy?" He kisses your neck slowly, humming as he goes back up to your ear.

"I bet he can't touch you like I can," He whispers, biting your earlobe softly. You smile and blush. You and Bucky decided to go on a break because work was starting to be too much for the two of you. It was causing fights which never ended well.

"Bucky...you can't just pull me away to do this," You put both hands on his chest and push him back a little so you can see his face. He looks at you with slight desperation. You look down and notice he has a boner, which seems to be bothering him quite a bit.

"Please Doll," He breathes out. You can't help but kiss him. He was way too irresistible, especially when he begged. You pull away from the kiss and push him onto the bed. He leans back on his elbows to watch you.

You unbuckle his pants and pull his boxers down. His cock shoots out and you smile when he bites his lip. You reach for it, your hands around his cock.

"You ready baby?" You ask, not really expecting an answer. He hums and lets out whimpers as you start stroking his sensitive cock. You can almost see the immediate pleasure Bucky feels. He looks so pretty when he's like this.

You get on your knees and lean over his cock, your mouth wraps around his tip and he rocks back a little. As soon as your tongue goes over the slit on his tip, he's whimpering again.

"Shh be quiet baby, people will hear." You push your mouth down over his cock and this time, you down down further. His cock hits the back of your throat and you bob your head up and down. Bucky moans, leaning back and trying to cover his mouth.

You look up at him as you continue. He's a mess already, his hair is all over and he can't even look up from the pillow his head is pushed into. Your tongue goes over every bit of his cock, you make sure to go slow when you go back up to the tip. He's the most sensitive there.

You pull off his cock for a moment, your hands taking over. "Look at me baby," You say, Bucky looks up from the pillow, his eyes slightly glossed over. You kiss him as you continue to pump your hands up and down.

"C-Close!" Is all Bucky can say between his moans. You go back down and push your head down over his cock. You suck it as it hits the back of your throat and he releases his cum. Bucky moans loudly, his legs slightly shaking.

You pull away from his cock and swallow his load. "You did so good love," You say as you kiss him again. All that jealousy he had once had was forgotten now.

Bucky's whole face is red, he feels a little embarrassed that he was trying to be so tough and you managed to turn him into a moaning mess.

You reach over and caress his face, kissing his cheek. "Don't be embarrassed baby, you know I love it when you make those noises for me. He nods, pulling up his boxers and pants before sitting at the edge of the bed.

You sit next to him and he leans onto you, his head laying on your shoulder. "I don't like being on a break," He admits, his hand inching towards yours.

"I don't either, it doesn't feel right anymore." You reach the rest of the way and clasp his hand with yours. "Let's forget about that break, boyfriend."

Bucky laughs and nods. "Okay, girlfriend."

#fem reader #bucky barnes #smut #marvel #fanfic #fanfiction #sub bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #x reader #female reader #slight fluff #jealous bucky #viixenvi

[peachesofteal]

are going to write more about that recent ghoap/reader scenario bc it’s DELICIOUS i’m on my knees begging for more

(no honestly your writing is INSANE. out of this world. like every word you write is pure gold)

18+ dark content

Wherever you are, it's huge.

It's a compound of some kind, you think, with long hallways with small windows and locked doors twisting and turning for what feels like miles, each step you take more confusing and misplaced than the last.

No matter where you go, you're no closer to a beginning or an end. You can't even turn back to the room you were in, the king size bed you woke up inside, the suffocating headache throbbing behind your eyes, the ache and pain in your mouth making it difficult to backtrack.

It makes you want to rip your hair from your scalp. It makes you feel insane.

What is happening?

You can't stop shaking. You're trembling like a newborn deer, lost in the wilderness without a mother. No shoes. Some night shirt falling to your thighs, hair twisted back away from your face.

None of it your own doing. None of it familiar. Not your bed. Not your clothes. Not your hairstyle.

Where are you?

"Hello?" You try again, echoing bouncing off the walls, to no avail. You strain to look out a window, just barely getting a glance of a rolling hill, lush green grass and a vibrant tree line.

Definitely not in the city anymore.

Fear lights a fuse on a stick of dynamite, the intensity nearly bringing you to your knees.

What happened? Oh god. What's happening?

"There ye are!" You blink, and then blink again. Recognition forcing it's way to the front of conscious thought.

That's... that's.... the Scottish guy. From the alleyway. What's he doing here?

"Wh-what... Who..." You stumble, and he pulls you upright by the elbow, grip just a shade too strong.

"Ye had us worried. Cannae run off like that." He chides, and tries to tug you forward, into his side. Your heartbeat clangs in your chest, too loud, too fast.

When you don't move, he sighs.

"C'mon love. Dinnae be difficult."

"Who... are you?"

"I'm Johnny. Remember? We met last week?" Your stomach flips. Last week? He means last night. Surely.

"Last night? Outside the bar?"

"Last week, bonnie. When ye fainted on me? I know, ye probably dinnae remember. Ye've had a long few days." He's got you firmly on his hip now, an arm around your waist, anchoring you without trouble. You're a wisp on the wind, barely standing, barely breathing, content to be pulled along in whatever gust catches you.

Right now, it's him.

He leads you to a door, smiling the whole way.

"Are ye hungry? Probably need somethin' soft for yer mouth." Your mouth. Your subconsciously touch the corner of your jaw.

"I... what's going on?" You keep throwing these questions at him, and he continues to ignore you, instead pushing you through into a kitchen-

where the scariest man you'd ever seen sits at a table, enjoying some eggs and toast.

"Hello, love."

#peaches asks #i wrote this on my phone #so mind the mistakes #ghoap x reader

[selineram3421]

*escapes from homework* I finally have some time!

Alastor X Reader Small Oneshot

Warnings? ⚠

⚠ alcohol, cuddles, kisses(implied make out) ⚠

Drunk In Love🥂

You didn't drink alcohol all that often, only a bit during special occasions, but most of the time you were sober.

Alastor was the one who drank more, but it wasn't bothering in the slightest. He would only drink what he could handle, and when he was comfortable enough he'd drink till he was tipsy.

It didn't happen often but you were always nearby when it did.

Today was a normal one, nothing really happened in the hotel. It was its usual lack of guest, so the Princess called an early day.

Now you and the Radio Demon were back home, relaxing in the living room, Alastor sitting nearby the cellarette bar with a drink in his hand. You were on the couch, reading the encyclopedia of herbs that you managed to find deep in the library.

Too transfixed with the book, you didn't notice that the man in red had finished most of the bottle.

"Darling?", he called out, the glass in his hand making a sound as he set it down on top of the cellarette.

"Hm?", you hummed, not looking up from the book.

"Darliiiing~"

Now that's odd. You thought taking in the tone of his voice and looked up from your book, finding the deer demon's smile widen once you were looking at him.

"Come here my darling~", he holds out a hand for you, head tilted to the side a bit with a slight blush on his face. "I want to hold you."

He's..drunk? You close your book before slowly setting it down. No, almost there but not quite.

Standing up, you made your way over to him. Taking his outstretched hand, letting him guide you to sit down on his lap. He wraps his arms around your waist and nuzzles his face into your neck. To get comfortable, you wrap an arm around his neck and rest the other on his chest.

"J’aime sentir ton corps contre le mien."

( I love feeling your body against mine. )

A blush forms on your face and you avert your eyes. "How much did you drink?", you ask, looking over at the bottle.

"Not too much.", he sighs out.

You shiver when feeling his breath on your neck. Holding your breath when feeling him smirk against your skin.

"Tu es si mignonne." (You're so adorable.)

"I'm not.", you mumble, earning a chuckle from him.

"You are.", he replies before kissing your neck.

Feeling your heart skip a beat as he kisses up your neck, you move the hand on his shoulder to the back of his head, encouraging him to continue.

"Mon amour." (My love.)

Kiss, on the pulse of your neck.

"Ma vie." (My life.)

Kiss, on the underside of your jaw.

"Mon cœur." (My heart.)

Kiss, behind your ear.

The smell from the alcohol was starting to get to you, but you really wanted a kiss.

"Alastor.", you pulled back, looking at his flushed face as he slowly blinked at you. "Please kiss me already."

"Of course.", he says and leans in.

Reciprocating the kiss, all is forgotten about the alcohol. It felt like you two were the only demons in Hell.

Maybe...you could get a little drunk.

In love, that is.

*gets dragged back into the depths of assignments* LET ME KNOW IF MY TRANSLATIONS ARE WRONG!!!

~Seline, the person.

Taglist@

@c4rved-pumpk1n @willowaudreykeyes @stolas-thebirb @kiraisastay @scary-noodlesblog @ducky-died-inside @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @+?

ML for Alastor🎙

#alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #x reader #alastor the radio demon #gn reader #fanfic #the radio demon #alastor x reader #oneshot #small oneshot #alastor oneshot #alcohol mention #fun fact #this was inspired by a fanfic on ao3

[hecateslore]

💌

supervisor!Simon

“Well this is awkward.” 

“Yeah.” you sigh, grabbing and scanning each Item as fast as you can. “So you work here now?” Simon clears his throat, feeling uneasy at the sight of you. 

“Temporarily. 10.83.” you say. Simon pulls out a crisp bill from his pocket, “I need change for the vending machine.” He chuckles, you only stare at him. Taking the money from his hand and putting the amount into the register. He looked tired, as if he hadn’t been sleeping. His shirt wasn’t ironed like it usually is, he looked drained. You hand him the receipt and the exact amount of change. “See you around.” and you give him no response. You need to find another job, quickly.

- 

You let out another sigh. This is way harder than you thought. Simon’s voice kept ringing in your head. “You can always come back,”. You wanted to. Standing on your feet all day was not the business. You miss sitting in the office, goofing off, sometimes doing your makeup. Even though Simon would act like a dick, sometimes you’d just escape to the bathroom, or take a break. 

Here you couldn’t sit, someone always needed help, there was a sale that they missed; somehow it was your fault. And now you're scanning 15 bottles of laundry detergent, 5 bars of soap, 10 packs of dish scrubbers, Goddamn couponers. 

When you finish your shift, you sit outside on the store's patio, going through on your phone checking emails. Seeing if any of the offices responded to your applications. 

For a second, you contemplate going back. The pay’s good, maybe you could apply for a different position? in the front away from his office. Maybe you could apply for a shift lead? but you needed to be there for more than 3 years.  God this sucks. So you call johnny.  

“How’s it going?” Johnny says still in hush mode. “It’s so stupid.” You whine. “It’s only your first day, “ he amuses quietly, “I know and my feet are killing me.” you continue. “I might just come back.” you say. “You should, we’re missing you around here..” 

“You sure it’s not you?” you grin, “I enjoyed your company a bit.” Johnny laughed softly, “that’s a lie. you call me daily.” you poke fun at him and you both laugh, exchanging what happened today in the supermarket and back at your old office. “I saw Simon.” you say casually. “Told you he has an obsession.” he noted. You snort at his comment, “He bought breakfast.” you stated, “I think it was kind of a coincidence.” you shrug. “Probably. But I wouldn’t doubt him actually being obsessed.” Johnny comments. “He’s not.” you chuckle and roll your eyes. 

“I’ll call you back, I gotta go.” 

Click. 

-

“You busy?” Simon asks cocking a brow at Johnny. “Uh,nah.” Johnny states, only realizing his screw up. Simon only chuckles at his response. “Come to my office.” Simon nods Johnny along.

Entering the room, Johnny looks at your desk noticing all your knick-knacks gone. Your desk was cleaned right off, and in the corner of Simon's office, he could see a box with your name written on it in messy handwriting. “Have a seat.” Simon offers, and Johnny does.“Something wrong?” He asks, “I’ve noticed some things.” Simon explained, Johnny couldn’t keep his eyes off the box of your things, “What’s that?” 

“You’re on the phone..A lot.” Johnny’s eye contact on the box breaks and he looks at Simon. “Y’know how people call for insurance-” he says and Simon quickly interjects, “We only answer transfer calls for people who have trouble financing their insurance, so that’s false.” 

Johnny’s throat went dry and all he could do was stare at the man across from him. “I’m not going to fire you johnny.” Simon sighs, “If that’s what you're scared of, we’re friends after all, just don’t do it again.” He affirms, Johnny only nods, “Take your lunch.” Simon waves him out of his office. Johnny closes the door behind him and puts his hand over his heart, attempting to soothe it back to its normal, healthy rhythm. 

-

Simon sat in his chair, cackling to himself, slapping his knee. He loved the look on his face, of course He and Johnny weren’t friends, not anymore at least. That snippet he heard on the phone told Simon everything he needed to know about him. 

Still in his chair Simon thought of calling you, but you were at work. A devilish thought peeped into his mind, maybe he could go into the supermarket again with the box of your things. It would be an excuse to see what you’re up to. He wondered if you worked full time or part time, he wanted to see you. 

Simon blew out a sigh picking up the stress ball on his desk tossing it in the hair. It was weird having you on his mind, sometimes you were all he thought about. Last night he couldn’t sleep, your phone call kept him up. Your reassurance, and the way you stayed on even if you wanted to gouge his eyes out with a plastic spork. If he closed his eyes tight enough he could still see you behind the register. You, acting as if you’ve never heard or seen him in your life. 

It’s only been a couple of days. He doesn’t understand where half of these emotions are coming from. He doesn’t know when they came, he doesn’t know why he feels entitled to you everytime Johnny’s around, or whenever he hears you two on the phone. He knows Johnny likes you like that, he’s seen when Johnny’s pining, how he’s soft and attentive, he says whatever and does whatever until you're trapped. 

God it was stupid. That’s why Simon packed your things up, to show his appreciation, his efforts. Johnny would’ve let you clean it up all by yourself and lug a heavy box around all day. Simon stared and stared at the phone. He doesn’t know what time you get off, but it doesn’t hurt to try, right? And there Simon was. Sitting at the edge of his seat, letting the phone ring, and holding his breath. “Hello?” You say confused . “Hey.” Simon said, drawing out the “Y”. 

“Simon?” He winces at his decision, “Maybe?” cringing even harder than before. “What do you want?” you respond dryly. “How's work?” he asks, mentally smacking himself in the head.“I’m off. Trying to get me fired?” He can hear the ruckus in the background, you're probably home, or eating lunch with johnny. “Not now at least,” he snorts, “I was just calling.” Simon says casually. “Why?” Simon swears he can see the confused look on your face. “Dunno.” he shrugs. “So there’s no reason for this call.” You point out. 

“You still coming tomorrow?” You let out a sigh, and Simon smiles. “I need my things..” you emphasize sarcastically. “That you do.” he confirms. There was a beat of silence between you two. “Linda misses you.” He admits, “a lot of people do.” He finishes. 

“I miss Linda, too.” you sigh once more. “You know the offer is still here, I would never turn you away.” He confesses. You’re quiet. “I was thinking about that today.” You disclose. “Of coming back?” he chimes in surprised. “Yeah.” you say softly. “You could if you want to.” Simon sits up, “I left for a reason, Simon.” 

He knows, that’s why he hasn’t slept correctly or eaten a decent meal. “I know.” he answers. “You’re the reason. You know that, right.” you clarified making simon shut his eyes tightly. 

“Johnny misses you most.” he states. 

-

You stand over your stove phone in hand. “I know. We talked about it today.” You respond, “When’d you talk to him?” Simon prods. “His lunch break.” You say. Simon lets out a hum at your response. “I gotta go, I’m kind of busy.” you lie. “I assume, I’ll see you tomorrow then?” He asks on the other end. “Yeah.” You say and hang up the phone quickly. 

“What the fuck.” you say aloud. You shake your head and decide whether to call Johnny or your best friend. you opted in talking to yourself and going over the conversation you just had. Why does he keep calling? And why is he bothering you about friday? 

“What’s happening on friday?” you say assembling your meal. You thought about his offer again, maybe you could come back, and I mean your heels are killing you. “I would never turn you away.” Why was that so attractive? Why is he so attractive? 

Is he trying to get you to come back so he can have someone to pick on again?  He never apologized. Maybe he’s going to try tomorrow. That's why he’s adamant about you coming. Oh god. Johnny’s gonna be there. You have to get dressed and make yourself look presentable. 

You finish your food and head to the bathroom for a quick shower, feet still aching from today. You take some medication for the pain and knock out until you have to get ready for tomorrow. 

-

Friday. 

Simon sits in his office, his shirt steamed and ironed, awaiting your arrival. You gave a call to the office letting the people in front know you’ll be stopping by to grab your stuff. On the office floor, Johnny sat in his chair wearing Friday's best, the sweater you told him you liked but in a different color. He waited for your “I’m here” text message, and kept looking at his phone every time he got a notification. Not even 15 minutes later you open the door to the back office. Simon's ears almost perk up like dogs at the sound of the door knob clicking against the hinge. 

Simon steps out of his office, first looking for Johnny and thankfully the man is sitting at his chair, eyeballing you from his seat. Johnny gives you a wave and Simon gives the biggest eye roll, he would’ve gagged but it would’ve disturbed the atmosphere. Simon notices the little smile you have on your face, because Linda looks like she’s two seconds away from a meltdown. You give her a little wave and smile at her sympathetically. 

“Glad to see you could make it.” Simon smiles, and you barely acknowledge his attempt at roping you back in. You take one good look at your desk and notice your things missing, “They're packed up in my room.” Simon raises his hands, your face relaxing at his words. You follow behind him into the very well known office. 

He picks up the cardboard box filled with your belongings, “This is all yours.” you try to refrain from staring at the way his muscles flex as he sets the box down. “Thanks.” you say, grabbing the box. “I kind of wanted to talk to you today.” 

You knew it. You only nod and sit in the very familiar chair. “I know this is probably not what you want to hear right now,” he chuckles nervously, and you suck in a harsh breath. “..I’m sorry.”

 your eyeballs almost pop out of your head, and you choke on your spit. “Are you okay?” he asks brows furrowing, “Do you need water?” concern on his face. You wave him off, “I’m okay.” He lets out a relieved sigh, “I thought about our conversation after work, and I know I should’ve done this sooner and I should’ve been nicer,” 

“Uh, yeah.” you agree sarcastically. “And when I saw you at the supermarket and your face when you quit. I know I can be a bit abrasive,” he rattles on, “Not a bit, you are.” you add. 

“Okay, I am,” he corrects himself, “Are you trying to get me to come back here?” you raise a brow, “Johnny doesn’t work when you’re gone.” he lies. “So fire him.” you shrug, “He’s my friend.” another lie. “You can hire someone else..” you say. “I don’t want to hire someone else, I want you back.” He says which leaves you speechless. 

“You said you thought about coming back, I told you I’m not going to turn you away. And I know the grocery store doesn't pay a lot.”  He leans against his desk,

“If I do, Then you can’t bother me like before.” He nods, “I’m serious, I will tell Hr.” 

“I won’t.” he puts his hand out, “I said ‘if’. ” you reiterate. You let out a breath, staring at his hand in front of you, you look up and see those amber eyes on your already. “My feet do hurt,” You say convincing yourself, “And that was only day one.” He urged. 

“The job’s all yours. You just have to say when.”

#Supervisor!Simon #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley imagine #ghost cod #cod mw2 #ghost call of duty #ghost headcanons #cod 141 #cod mw3 #simon ghost x you #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost x y/n

[poebot]

At The Gay Bar

tags: bouncer!abby, established relationship ellie, fem!reader, jealousy

a/n: no one wrote it so i wrote... based on this post i made a while back. i haven’t stopped thinking about it. sorry that i haven’t written anything in ages :( exam season was kicking my ass

taglist: (people who said they wanted to see this in word form) @rubycruzsbitch @elsgirl

“you’re serious... you’ve never been to a gay bar before?” you wore an incredulous look on your face as ellie awkwardly shrugged, trying to look nonchalant about it.

your girlfriend wasn’t the type to frequent nightclubs. if it was up to her, she’d be spending tonight high as a kite sat by her gaming set up. but you’d insisted that she had to tag along with you because it was a ‘mandatory queer experience’. ellie knew deep down that you just wanted to get shit faced and have her close by simultaneously. you always ended up blowing up her phone whenever you got too drunk at parties, whining that you missed her and begging her to turn up or take you home. one of the drawbacks she’d learned to accept of dating an extrovert.

“cmon. you’ll have a good time, i promise.” you leaned in close, dropping the pitch of your voice and staring into her eyes. her ears flushed pink as she slid her toned arms around your waist to draw you in even closer, and you knew you’d convinced her.

the next hour or so was spent with you trying on different outfits and forcing ellie to help you pick one. her opinion was pretty useless, mostly consisting of monotoned ‘looks great babe’s as she shamelessly ogled you dress and undress in front of her.

“dude. you’re such a creep.” you sighed, shimmying your way into a different skirt. ellie rolled her eyes, approaching you from behind to help you pull up the zipper. “what, i can’t admire my girl?” she murmured, peppering warm kisses across the back of your neck.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

the heels of your platforms clack noisily against the sidewalk as you finally reach the front of the queue, the harsh bass of the music vibrating from within the club. excitement thrummed through your veins and you smiled brightly at ellie, squeezing her warm hand in yours. she smiled sheepishly back, returning your squeeze.

“gonna need to see some ID, princess.” a deep yet feminine voice captured your attention. you looked up to meet the gaze of the bouncer only to be truly taken aback by her appearance. she wore a fitted tank top that emphasised her ridiculously built upper body, her thick freckled arms folded across her chest and her expression stern. just as you were admiring her long hair neatly braided at the back of her head you realised she noticed you staring.

you squinted to read the blonde’s name tag, abby, before averting your eyes long enough to tap ellie’s arm, motioning for her to help you fish out your ID from your purse. you didn’t notice the way her eye twitched at the pet name. ellie dug into the bag and slapped the card into abby’s hand with more force than was probably necessary. abby didn’t react, simply flipping it over.

the woman analysed your license in silence with furrowed brows and her mouth downturned. you began to panic slightly, your glossy lips pursed. there was a slight chance that she was gonna turn you away. man, would that be a bummer. “it’s real.. pinkie promise.” you say in an attempt to lighten the mood. abby’s briefly looks up at you to meet your eyes before continuing to examine the ID card that you absently realise looks comically small in her large hands. ellie sighs impatiently, crossing her arms and staring up at the sky. you shoot her a look that screams ‘not helpful, babe.’

“hmm. can you smile for me?” the request caught you slightly off guard and you paused for a moment, chancing a glance at your girlfriend. her expression almost made you burst out laughing; you’ve never seen ellie look more aggravated. her eyebrows were raised in disbelief as she tries to make eye contact with abby to assert some form of control over the situation. when that doesn’t work, she lets out a perplexed ‘dude!’

the bouncer continues to completely ignore her and focuses her gaze on you, her brow raised expectantly. you relent. anything to get out of this line quicker. they’re playing your favorite song for fuck sake, and the longer you’re stood out here the higher the likelyhood ellie will change her mind about the night. so you beam up at her, flashing your best smile and abby’s stoic expression finally cracks into a grin of her own.

“yeah, there’s them pretty dimples. get in there baby.” abby motions into the bar with a wink. against your better judgment, you can’t help feeling flustered by the line. your mouth hangs open slightly as you stare up at her, rooted to the spot from the shock. you’re finally broken out of it by ellie shooting her a disgusted scowl and ushering you into the darkness of the bar. you try to school your expression before she notices the dopey smile spread wide across your face.

#the last of us #wlw #ellie williams x reader #lesbian #abby anderson x reader #tlou2 #tlou #bouncer!abby #ellie x reader #ellie tlou #abby x reader #rivalry #ellabs #ellie x abby x reader