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#I did start on a pair of pants yesterday
I haven't been doing a lot of sewing (or writing. or reading. or really anything creative/fun) lately because the slump is hitting hard atm BUT I did replace both pockets in my winter coat so that counts for something right
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ghoulphile · 19 days
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run rabbit run | c.h/the ghoul
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➥ pairing | cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader ➥ word count | 869 ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; rough, mildly dubious consent (kinda?), dom!coop, bareback, cum play, degradation kink, biting, pet names (bunny), man-handling, doggystyle, drabble, coop's gotta fuck you full so the ferals can't smell you ➥ summary | "the drabble thing HNNNGH think about coop calling you bunny from the start bc he clocked that you were always a down for it and you not getting it until he after you fuck for the first time" ➥ notes | do not look @ me rn 🫣 i feel like i've exposed myself too much lol masterlist | feel free to send in thots, questions, requests! | feedback is always appreciated ❤️
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He found the rabbit among endless dunes of rock and rubble; a frightened, jumpy little beast that required a firm hand to tame, and an even steadier one to control.
And while it would’ve been easier to dump ‘em at Super Duper Mart -- get his caps worth, pounds of flesh for vials of chem -- he took a shine. Now, what exactly it is about you that captured his attention so thoroughly, he can’t be sure (though he could hazard a few guesses).
What he does know is this: if it wasn’t for him, you’d have been killed a million times over by raiders, fiends, and ferals alike. Always finding your way into trouble as soon as his back is turned.
Like now.
So if he’s a little rough with you, it’s only because he had to haul ass half-way across the flooded district when he heard you scream.
Nevermind the hard lurch of his heart, the sensation of his stomach droppin’ to his feet. You were supposed to be safe, holed up in the building he cleared yesterday.
Surprise, surprise; you decided to go poking where you shouldn’t, and now he’s gotta rescue your dumb ass. Skidded around a bombed out building only to find you fighting off a small pack of ferals, their rotted hands scratching at your arms and their teeth gnashing at your face.
Goddamn it.
Same shit, different day.
“What did I fuckin’ say?” he snarls, chapped lips pressed tight against your ear as sharp hip bones rut into the softness of your ass. “You’re dumber than shit sometimes.”
“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t - hhahh, slow down - didn’t mean to cause trouble.” Your hands scramble for purchase, nail beds aching from how hard you’re digging at the dirt.
Shoved onto the ground, pants sagging around your thighs as a stray rock digs into your cheek, scraping up the tender skin. “Won’t do it again, I promise.”
The Ghoul snorts, delivers a stinging nip to the tip of your ear. Your reedy whine soothes some of the agitation but he’s still bristling, aggression threaded through with tendrils of panic he refuses to acknowledge.
“I highly doubt that.”
You hiccup, knees spreading wide as your back dips - trying to get away, to get closer.
The fat head of his cock keeps hitting your cervix with every stroke, little fissions of pain kissed pleasure racketing up your spine as he stretches you past your limits and fucks you open.
Your gummy walls swollen and raw from the constant friction of his shaft, the rad burns scraping your insides up. Clit aching and so wet you’re dripping, a damp patch of earth beneath you.
“No, promise I’ll be good!” You pant, the scent of sunbaked soil and stagnant water heavy in your nose. “Please, please, please.”
Everything aches, limbs sore from your tussle and pride bruised as sweat dapples your brow, sticks the fine baby hairs to the back of your neck.
A hand clamps down on your hip so hard bones grind, yanking you back into every punishing thrust. Heavy balls smack against your clit on the in-stroke, stoking the embers of your desire. Your toes curl in your boots.
“I’ll believe it when I see it, bunny.” The Ghoul grabs your elbow with his free hand, tugging you up into his chest so his chin hooks over your shoulder, breath puffing along the side of your cheek. “You just don’ know when ta learn. So I’m gonna have’ta teach you. An’ I’ll do it as many times as it takes, you hear?”
You sniffle, nuzzling the back of your head against his face. “I mean it,” you say. “I’m sorry… I didn’t know there’d be any ferals around. Was just trying to find some more food.”
Groaning, his hips kick forward in a softer grind, still so deep you feel him in your stomach - pussy filled to the brim with cock - but not as harsh as before. As close as you’ll get to an apology until he’s done.
“This is your fault - you got ‘em all riled. Now, we gotta make you smell like me so take your punishment like a good bunny 'fore I decide ta eat you instead.”
And you do, letting him rut into you until he’s satisfied, aching and so swollen by the end of it that he has to bully his way in with every thrust, your pussy clamping down and milking him for all he’s worth.
When he finally does pump you full, you’re dumb and dripping. Limp limbed and sagging into the ground - only held up by the cage of his arms. Thighs shaking and clit pulsing in time with your heartbeat as he wrings every last bit of pleasure out of you.
“Sometimes,” he says, sitting back on his heels to watch as his cum oozes out of you in a sticky rush, dripping down your folds, “I think dumb bunnies like you are only good fer one thing.”
You whine when his thumb whispers over your clit, caressing your folds as he gathers up his spend. Gently fucks it back into you with shallow thrusts of his fingers. 
“But that’s all right, I like ‘em a lil dumb.”
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nereidprinc3ss · 1 month
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do you believe me now? | 3
in which spencer reid spends a rainy day teaching inexperienced fem!reader how to touch him. of course, her efforts don't go unrecognized, much less unrewarded
part one | part two | part four
18+ (smut) warnings: inexperienced reader, softdom!spencer, sub reader, oral m receiving, reader swallows lol, a truly sickening amount of praise, like really, you JOKINGLY refer to each other as dirty sluts, r has longish hair, spit mentioned once, thigh riding (moans loudly), its filthy idk what to tell you, i feel like i've crossed the desert on foot i don't even know what else is in here, your honor they're in love, i take you to dinner first, this part is stupidly long a/n: had a fucking field day the three separate times i had to rewrite this el oh el... but think i like how it turned out?! anyway, if u like this PLS lmk bc writing it took a small piece of my soul, and yes there will be a part four!! take care of yourselves!! i love you!!!
You give Spencer half a minute or so before knocking on his door for a second time. 
It’s miserable outside, and though the hallway you’re standing in now isn’t terribly cold, you’d much prefer to be in Spencer’s apartment, where it will be the same toasty 68.5 degrees as always. Not that the heating will magically dry you. And not that you’ll be there for long, if the date you’d scheduled last week goes on as planned. 
You’re getting worried, about to knock for a third time when the locks finally click and the door opens to reveal a disheveled Spencer Reid—not at all looking ready for a date. You take in his ensemble; blue checked pajama pants, FBI Academy crewneck, the usual questionably paired socks. He’s rubbing his droopy eyes, which slowly widen as he notices your attire. 
“Shit, I’m sorry, our date! I mean—you look really nice. I look… like this. Why don’t you come in while I get ready to go?”
He holds the door open a little wider and you step through, relishing in the familiar warmth as you pull your hood down and excess water droplets spatter on the ground. 
“When did you get in?” you ask, hanging your raincoat up on a hook. You know he’d wrapped up a case yesterday evening, but you’d gone to sleep before the team left Cincinnati. 
Spencer pauses in the middle of the room, staring at the antique flooring like he forgot what he was doing. 
“Uh… four hours ago.”
“Wh—four hours? Spencer, you must be exhausted.”
He laughs awkwardly, running a tired hand over his face. 
“I mean… I’ve definitely felt better.”
You kick your soaked shoes off and cross the room until you’re toe to toe with him. Immediately his hands settle on your waist and yours find his arms. His eyes are kind, and he’s clearly pleased by your presence despite his lack of energy. 
“The weather’s terrible, anyway. Let’s just go out another day.”
His features have softened and you can see how tired he truly is—not just in his bleary eyes, but the way his fingers grasp weakly to you, the way his head bows slightly. It seems bone-deep. 
“But I haven’t seen you in a week. I don’t want you to go home.”
Your lips twist. A clap of thunder rolls in the distance and the rain starts coming down even harder against the windowpanes. 
“We could hang out here. We can take a nap!”
Spencer sighs—half resignation, half disappointment. 
“But we made such good plans,” he laments. 
You kiss his cheek. 
“Plans that can be rescheduled. The bookstore will still be there next weekend.”
It takes him a moment to settle into the idea, but you watch the exhaustion win. 
“Okay. But no nap. I want to be awake for you. Coffee?”
You nod enthusiastically, beaming at the prospect of getting to spend the day doing nothing with him. Spencer mirrors your grin, before pressing a kiss to your head.
“You’re so cute.” Heat creeps into your cheeks and you can’t think of a satisfactory reply, but in the end you don’t need to, as he tugs gently on your hands. “C’mon. Tell me what mug you want.”
The kitchen counter bites into your palms as you lean with your back to it, watching Spencer putter all around the kitchen as he works on the coffee. It makes you tired just to watch. 
“Are you sure you don’t want to take a nap? Caffeine isn’t a substitute for sleep, you know.”
“I do know,” he agrees, measuring coffee grounds. “But other than last night, I actually slept fairly well this week.”
“You seem exhausted.”
“I… am tired in lots of ways. Not all of which can be resolved with more sleep.” he admits.
Your heart drops ever so slightly at the way his voice weakens as he looks through the fridge. Sometimes you remember there are still things you don’t know about him—sides you haven’t met. His work side is one of them, and it more than a little intimidates you.
“Bad case?” you ask, voice quiet and crackling with nervous energy. 
Spencer nods, approaching and setting a carton of milk on the counter behind you—caging you in with his arms in the process. It’s hard to find the words when he’s this close, but you manage to stumble through them. 
“Do… do you wanna talk about it?”
Spencer hums, tilting his head before gently saying, “not right now. But thank you for offering, lovely.”
“Okay, well—if you change your mind… if there’s anything I can do to make you feel better…”
Finally he stops with the teasing—the unabashed staring at your lips, the faux-attentive nods—and drops his head to your level to kiss you properly. It’s obviously an attempt to get you to shut up, you’re not dumb enough so as to miss that—but you don’t really care why he’s doing it so long as he does it at all. 
“I feel pretty great right now, actually,” he murmurs against your lips, a hint of a smile coloring his words. “Do you want sugar in yours?”
“Um…”
Your eyes dart helplessly between his as he pulls away and you struggle to un-fluster yourself enough to answer his simple question. Spencer seems to delight in this. The longer it takes you, the bigger his perfect smile gets. 
“You took too long. You’re getting sugar.”
“Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?” you plead later on the couch, for the third or fourth time, setting your mostly-empty mug on the coffee table. 
His eyebrows raise. 
“I’m sure, honey.”
“But I want to help,” you pout, pulling your knees into your chest. Spencer regards you for a moment from the other end of the couch, before beckoning you closer wordlessly. 
“You are helping,” he assures you, gently grabbing your wrist as you crawl into his lap. He rubs soothing circles into the delicate skin with his thumb. “You being here and being you is plenty.”
It’s the closest you’ve been to him since before he left, and while you’ve all but given up on asking him to sleep with you, it doesn’t mean you don’t think about it multiple times per day. It’s especially difficult to keep your thoughts PG when you haven’t seen him in a week, and his hair is all messy, and he’s got his pajamas on, and you’re in his lap, and he’s looking at you like that. 
“What are you thinking about?” Spencer murmurs, likely concerned by your lack of response and the glazed-over look in your eyes. You reanimate, averting your gaze to the spot on your thigh he’s now rubbing absentmindedly. 
“Nothing. I just missed you.”
“I missed you a lot, too.” You don’t even have to look up to know that his brows have twisted into a pleasant sort of bemusement, like you are a particularly complex puzzle—you can hear it as he continues speaking. “I’m still not used to having something external take up so much of my attention while I’m trying to do my job. I’ve never had that before. Not something good, anyway. It’s like every time I leave, I’m thinking about you more than the time before. And I was already thinking about you a lot.”
The corner of your mouth twitches as he rambles. 
“Really?”
“Yeah, really,” he chuckles. “You prove to be incredibly distracting even when you’re hundreds of miles away. Do you know how many nights I almost called you before realizing it was one in the morning?”
A slow smile spreads over your face. 
“Oh? Whatever could you have been calling about at one in the morning?”
You’re teasing him, and it works. He blushes adorably. 
“Um… probably exactly what you’d expect. In hindsight I think it’s best that I refrained.”
“What?” You grin, incredulous, forgetting your shyness and leaning closer. “You totally should’ve. I’ve never had phone sex before. I would’ve done it.”
“No, you wouldn’t!” Spencer laughs. “It would have just been me talking to myself with you on the other line. I don’t think phone sex is really up your alley.”
“Shut up,” you laugh as your lips meet. He smiles into the kiss. Before you get too lost in it, you pull away, leaning back when he tries to follow you. “I think you’re over-complicating it. It’s just dirty talk, right? I can totally do that. It’s just, like… blah blah blah, dirty slut, something something…”
You trail off as he gives you a look. Poker faced—aside from the slightly narrowed eyes sparkling with humor. 
“You want me to refer to you as a dirty slut?”
Maintaining eye contact is an uphill battle—you crack in a matter of seconds, resting your forehead against his and closing your eyes stubbornly. 
“No. For all you know I want to call you a dirty slut.”
It’s a ridiculous, but he recognizes the bravado for what it is, still smiling slightly as he rubs your hips. 
“Right. I apologize for assuming. But just for future reference, I don’t want to be called that, and I don’t think I’d be comfortable calling you that, either.”
“But you can call me other stuff,” you remind your boyfriend, pulling back and still not looking at him. 
“Yeah? Like what?”
And just like that, you’re shy again. 
“I don’t know… nice things. I like when you’re nice.”
“I like being nice to you.” It’s so sincere-sounding that you meet his gaze, examining his face. His eyes are clear and soft on you, the only source of warm light on such a grey day, as his hands keep running slow lines over your sides. “Kiss?”
And how could you ever deny him anything? 
As has happened before, the kiss starts out innocent enough. And it’s not that it gets particularly heated, or anything—it’s just that it doesn’t end, and after a few moments your mouth slips open and so does his and that’swhat gets both of you worked up over a period of minutes. Pressure and heat that you’re becoming accustomed to build between your legs, and you don’t even notice that you’ve begun rocking back and forth in his lap until Spencer is attempting to still your hips with patient but assertive hands. 
“Honey, that’s—slow down, sweetheart.”
Finally he gets a grip on you and you realize as soon as you stop moving that there had been friction occurring—and you’re pretty damn sure you know what you were grinding against. 
Your whole body feels hot with arousal and embarrassment. 
“Oh my god—I’m sorry,” you mumble, moving your hands from his shoulders to cover your face. “That was an accident, I—”
“It’s fine,” Spencer assures you, squeezing your waist gently. “I just wanted to make sure you knew what you were doing because I know we haven’t… gotten there, yet.”
A moment passes—your hands fall to the FBI stitching across his chest, studying the letters without really seeing them. You haven’t gotten there yet… but why not? Why haven’t you touched him, or even seen him? You think back to the few times he’s touched you and realize that you had been too busy with either your own insecurities or pleasure to genuinely consider how it might be affecting him. He says your name gently, drawing your attention. 
“You okay?”
You nod haltingly, brow furrowed as you think. 
“I—yeah. I was just realizing that I haven’t, like… touched you, yet.”
It’s silent for another long second, and you glance up, to where he’s studying you with a dissonant kind of relaxed scrutiny—a knowing confidence that probably comes with a lot more experience than you have. 
“Do you want to?”
Woah. 
Usually you have to beg on hands and knees and prepare a slideshow presentation before he agrees to doing anything sexual in nature. He’s never so overtly invited or initiated it before. Not that you’re complaining by any stretch of the imagination.  
You nod shyly, still fiddling with the fabric of his shirt. 
“If you want to, I can show you how. But it’s also absolutely okay if you don’t.”
Show you how? 
Your brain is melting into sludge at the idea. 
“I do,” you admit, meeting his gaze again. It’s kind, and you know he really wouldn’t be upset if you said no—but now that you’ve thought about it, you feel deeply compelled to try. 
“Okay. Come here, first.” You lean forward expectantly, eyes fluttering shut as his hand finds the back of your neck and he pulls you into another soft kiss. By the time your lips separate again, your head is spinning. “We’re just trying something, okay? You’re allowed to stop whenever you feel like it. Really low stakes. Got it?”
You nod, still close enough that your noses brush as you do. 
“Got it.”
He presses one more chaste kiss to your lips before pulling away and leaning back into the couch. 
“Scoot back a little, angel.”
Wordlessly you do so, heart pounding with nervous excitement as he lifts his hips and slides his pajama pants down just enough to where he can comfortably pull himself out, and—
Your breath catches. 
Now, you may be about as virginal as they come, but you weren’t born yesterday. You’ve seen porn, you’ve received unsolicited nudes—it is the 21st century. Yet never before have you thought to yourself; wow, that dick is the pinnacle of beauty. Perfect. Breathtaking. But there’s just no other way to describe him. 
So that’s what hits you first—how unexpectedly pretty it is. 
The size sinks in a quick second later. 
You can’t tell with perfect accuracy how many inches he is, but you’re pretty damn sure he’s big. That’s meant to fit inside of you?
No, no—that’s a consideration for another day. Right now you need to stop staring like an idiot. You glance up at his face, and he’s sporting a cocky little half-smile which lets you know you’ve been caught. Motherfucker he’s so hot. It’s unnerving. 
“Do you have something you’d like to say?” he asks politely, quite obviously containing his amusement. But you can’t summon a sufficiently sarcastic response. 
Your voice comes so soft when you reply, “you’re pretty.”
Spencer melts, eyes impossibly softening. 
“Pretty?” His smile is earnest now. He strokes your cheek and you can’t not lean into his touch. 
“Mhm. I want to, um…” your lips twist to the side as you look back down, finding he’s not gotten less intimidating since you last checked. “But what if I’m bad at it?” you whisper. He chuckles, brushing hair over your shoulder.  
“It’s kind of a hard thing to be bad at. And I’m gonna help you, okay?”
It’s the honesty with which he speaks to you that makes you feel so safe. There are no hidden intentions or words that seem to mean one thing but really mean another. Spencer wants you as a person more than he wants you as a body and that’s been clear since the first time he touched you. You take a deep breath. 
“Okay. What do I do?”
“First, you’re gonna spit in your hand.”
You look up, alarmed. 
“You want me to intentionally get my spit on you? Is that not your worst nightmare?”
“Believe it or not, I’m not super worried about yours,” he teases. “But if you’d prefer, I can spit in your hand.”
“Actually, mine is fine,” you laugh nervously. 
Hesitantly, you do as instructed, even though it seems frankly bizarre. 
“Good. Now just wrap your hand around it, like this.” His voice is quiet, focused as he guides your hand downward. Your heart rate ticks up again as he encourages you to wrap your hand around the base of his cock. He feels much warmer than you’d expected—his skin is silken beneath your touch but he’s undeniably hard and that sort of eliminates any sense of him being fragile from the equation. 
“It’s gonna be less sensitive down here—and then, up here—” he slides your hand back up, covering your thumb with his own and swiping it just below the head of his cock on the underside. He hisses and you look up in fascination. “That’s the most sensitive part.”
Without further instruction, you do it again, keeping your touch light and watching his face for a reaction. His drawn brows twitch, furrowing deeper for a second, and his lips part. A heavy exhalation passes between them and quickly builds into a breathy laugh. 
“What?” you murmur, over-eager to please and very nervous to do something wrong. 
“Nothing. Just feels good, that’s all.”
“Don’t laugh,” you pout. Of course that makes him laugh again, and he leans forward to kiss your head. 
“I’m laughing at myself, angel. I’m a grown man fighting for my life from a handjob that you’ve barely started. I knew it would be different with you but I didn’t realize it would be this different.”
Heat rises in your cheeks and you look away. 
“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better.”
“I’m not lying,” he urges, grabbing your free hand and encouraging you to uncurl your fingers. His thumb traces circles in your open palm, before capturing your entire hand in his. “Do you feel how much softer your hand is than mine?”
You frown, attempting to feel whatever it is that he’s pointing out. Despite the fact that you think he has very nice hands, you realize he’s right. By no means would you say that they’re rough, but you can tell where his gun normally sits in his hands, where his fountain pen rubs against his fingers. “Yeah.”
“Yeah. Anything you do is going to be perfect because it’s you.”
Spencer drops his hand to your leg, rubbing it soothingly. The other moves to cover yours—the one wrapped around him. 
“You’re gonna help me, right?” you ask quietly. Some adventurous part of you is very excited about this as an experiment—fascinated by the reactions you’ve already gotten from him and eager to push it. 
“I am. Little bit tighter, honey. I’ll tell you if it’s too much.”
You do as you’re told, and he’s murmuring more praise—slowly encouraging you to begin moving your hand with his own. A shaky exhale catches your attention, drawing your gaze to his face. His eyes are, of course, cast downward, but his expression is hypnotizing. Those lips remain slightly parted, and suddenly you wonder if he makes noises like you do. In that moment it becomes your life’s mission to find out. 
For a while you continue letting his hand guide your movements, but he keeps things so slow for your sake that you’re getting impatient. You forgo his direction, picking up the pace but trying to keep the rhythm he’d instilled in the motion. His hand slackens around yours. 
“Fuck,” he hisses to himself. The hand on your thigh rubs achingly deeper into the flesh. “Angel, what are you doing?”
“I want it to feel good.” Suddenly shy again, you slow down. His hips stutter, which you think may be a sign that it was working. “Am I—was that bad?” Spencer looses a breath, looking almost… frustrated?
“No, I’m just—I’m weirdly close to coming.”
“That’s a good thing, right?”
“Well,” he mutters, “not usually. Mostly it’s embarrassing.”
You giggle, a release of some tension, and begin pumping your hand again. His breath hitches and he finally looks up at you, meeting your eyes with his own lust-glazed ones. Heat pools deep between your legs. 
“I want you to come,” you admit quietly as you twist your wrist, brushing that spot underneath the head of his cock again. His jaw literally drops, and a look that is part confusion, part pleasure, twists his features. You see the surprise sparkling in his eyes and it only spurs you to keep talking. “I’ve never seen how you look when you do, but I’ve imagined it. I bet you look so pretty when you come, Spencer. ‘Nd then I would know that I can make you feel good, too.”
“You… you are making me feel good,” he assures you. The way his brow furrows and his  lips are parted give you a feeling that’s entirely new. Normally, you’re the one falling apart under his touch—but when it’s the other way around there’s a whole new kind of pleasure in it for you. You feel kind of powerful. Maybe even close to confident. 
“Really? I’m not this quiet when you touch me.”
“I’ve ha—ah—had more practice not making noise.”
“But why?” you implore, ignoring the fact that he’s slept with other women and enjoyed the sounds they made, and opting to brush your thumb across that extra sensitive part he definitely shouldn’t have told you about. His hips buck up and he hisses, which is immensely gratifying to you. 
“Because I like to listen.”
“What if I do, too?”
In a moment of divine inspiration , you cover the tip of his cock with your hand, swirling beads of pre-come over your palm. Spencer moans and his hips jut up into your grip. It’s a beautiful sound, just as you’d hoped. 
“Jesus, fuck.”
You understand why he seems to enjoy touching you so much. It’s so rewarding to watch as his breathing picks up and pleasure contorts his face—to watch him get messier and messier and lose his composure a bit more with each stroke of your hand. It’s so simple but Spencer looks at you like you’re exercising some arcane deviant power over him and he’s not sure he should be enjoying it as much as he is. 
Distantly you think about how it felt when he had his hands on you—and then, in clearer focus, how it felt when he went down on you. Both were perfect, but something about his lips so gentle on the most intimate, vulnerable part of you had felt like ascension. Maybe it was the emotional component, or maybe it just felt fucking good. Regardless, it seems an irresistible thought. 
You keep stroking him until his head is lolling on the back of the couch as he groans.
“Spencer?”
“Yeah, baby?”
He sounds so destroyed it makes you clench around nothing. Without any indication that you’re going to do so, you stop touching him, and the speed with which he lifts his head again is almost comical. Immediately, while he’s utterly defenseless and desperate, you ask, “can I use my mouth?” 
His eyes widen, and then shut, as he processes your request with a tiny shake of his head—probably trying to clear the haze of pleasure from his mind before he answers. 
“Honey,” he rasps eventually, opening his eyes and smoothing a hand over your hair, “you don’t have to do that just because I do. That’s not why I do it.”
“But I want to,” you murmur, shy and mildly embarrassed by what feels almost like a soft rejection. “I don’t think I could do anything, like, mind-blowing, but… I want to try.”
Your face is hot by the end of the sentence, and you can’t meet Spencer’s eyes as his fingers twitch over your hip. A quiet moment passes—but it’s short-lived.
“Okay. Go ahead, baby.”
Wide eyes dart up to his. 
“Really?”
Spencer smiles fondly, brushing an invisible speck from your cheek. 
“I don’t think I’m capable of turning that offer down. Not when it’s you.”
“Okay—um, should I just—” Spencer watches on, finding your sudden enthusiasm completely adorable as you scoot off of his lap and gingerly kneel in front of him. Your eyes are big and glassy as you look up at him, hands set politely on his knees. You squint suspiciously, eyes darting between his face and his cock, now about as hard as it’s ever been due to your toying. He knows it’s probably intimidating for a girl who has never seen one in real life, and he feels kind of bad about it. You do terrible, wonderful things to him that he doesn’t understand. “Wow. So... it looks bigger from down here.”
“Please don’t try to choke yourself,” he instructs hurriedly, leaning forward slightly. “I really don’t need you to do that. It’s fine if you can’t fit it all, I just—” he exhales shakily. Spencer is most definitely strong-willed but he can’t pretend like the sight of you on your knees for him, inches from his aching cock for the first time isn’t impacting his cognition. Most importantly he doesn’t want to make you feel pressured. He’s trying to not let how badly he wants this show in case you change your mind. 
Spencer watches as you psych yourself out—wilting like a thirsty flower. 
“But what if I’m bad at this?” you mumble, hands curling into loose fists atop his legs. Spencer pushes your hair back, tucking it behind your ears. 
“What’s your worst case scenario?” he asks. Your answer is immediate. 
“That I’m so bad you make me stop halfway through.”
Spencer can’t help but laugh again. 
“I’m sorry—I just… honey, you are really underestimating how profound your effect is on me. I just almost came from a minute long handjob. I can assure you that I won’t make you stop halfway through because I’d rather not have your mouth on me. That is… that’s just not going to happen.”
You lean your cheek against his thigh. He might actually pass away. 
“Will you tell me if I���m doing something wrong?”
“Honestly, as long as you don’t bite, you’re in the clear.”
Your eyes squeeze shut and your lips pull into an embarrassed little smile. 
“Great. Thank you for that invaluable advice.”
“Of course,” he smiles. It fades slowly as you take a deep breath and look up at him, obviously steeling yourself, before leaning forward and taking him in your hand again. He watches with bated breath, repeating no sudden movements to himself over and over as your hand moves up and down a few more times and your head lowers. 
You delicately, so lightly trace your tongue from the base of his swollen cock to just underneath the leaking tip, mapping a vein, and his hips buck as you take him into your mouth experimentally. Only the first few inches fit but the sight of your lips wrapped around him, the way you’re looking at him is so unbelievably erotic Spencer knows he won’t last very long.
From a purely technical perspective—he knows he’s gotten objectively better head. Still, something about the way you’re so delicate with him, so soft and timid in the way you lick and kiss and take him into your mouth has him fighting not to come already. Maybe it’s wrong, but knowing that he’s watching you do this for the first time in your life is obscenely arousing. The idea that you’ve never trusted another person this much; that you’re letting him be the one to help you navigate something as new and as important as sexuality. The more he thinks about it, though, the more he realizes: it’s not your inexperience that turns him on. It’s just you. Everything you do is so undeniably you—he recognizes your mannerisms in every tiny motion, in every glance, and it’s killing him. You’re like a dream as you look up at him with big nervous eyes, (no, really, he has had this dream) and he remembers he wants to be reassuring you—not pondering life and human connection. 
“Look at you,” he murmurs, groaning and hips twitching as your cheeks hollow, wrapping his achingly hard cock in soft gentle warmth so sweetly it feels taboo. “So good, baby. So gorgeous like this.”
You whine around him, receptive as always to his obsequious praise, and he notices the way your hips wiggle as you seek friction. God, you must like this a lot. Spencer gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail, resting his hand on your head as you begin to bob it. That, he wasn’t prepared for. He’d have been satisfied with just kitten-licks and suckling but he won’t complain about this. It’s slow, and so intentional as you keep watching him for feedback cues. Ever his observant girl, you’re constantly paying attention. Aware of his reactions. He needs to keep telling you you’re good or else you’ll assume you’re terrible. 
“Over-achiever,” he whispers through a little smile as you down even more of him. 
Spencer is for the most part a kind and gentle person. For better or worse he is also a man, and he can’t help but fantasize about getting you all teary and drooly as he holds your mouth open and sees how much of his cock he can push down your throat. But again—kind. Gentle. So when you get a little over-zealous, attempting to sacrifice your comfort for his pleasure, he pulls your head back slightly. “That’s far enough, angel. That’s—fuck. God, you’re good at this.” The words are thoughtless, muttered to himself more than you as he watches through a haze while you look up at him with glassy, half-lidded eyes, slipping him in and out of your warm mouth, a little faster now as you gain confidence. 
You whine desperately around him, like you’re the one nearing orgasm and not him. The sound of your pleasure as you suck his cock makes him dizzy. His hips buck, pressing him a little deeper into your mouth. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he exhales. “Slow down, baby. I’m—” a louder moan from him like you’ve never heard as he thrusts shallowly turns you on profoundly. He’s so much more vocal than you’d have imagined—sonically and verbally. He breathes out a quick, “fuck, fuck, fuck,” pulling your hair slightly, and you’ve never wanted to touch yourself more but you know you can’t focus on both. Instead you work on making him come—you can worry about you later. He says your name, with an authoritative edge to his tone that makes you throb. “Honey, if you don’t stop, I’m gonna come—”
You swirl your tongue around the top of him like candy and he’s done for. Spencer tries to pull out, which only results in cum both in your mouth and on your face. The orgasm is his strongest in recent memory, and he grunts, watching your lips part and a little squeak escape as he comes all over your face—but you keep stroking him all the while. Once he’s 90% sure it’s over, he falls against the back of the couch, breathing heavily and looking down at you through hazy eyes. Oh, he’s going to feel terrible about this in a few seconds—but right now you look fucking perfect. Your eyes are wide, nervous as his essence drips over your face and down your neck—he groans when you swallow cautiously, averting his eyes to the ceiling lest he do another thing he regrets. 
“Baby, I am so sorry,” he mutters, forcibly clearing the haze of orgasm from his mind and sitting up, fixing his pants and looking around before locating the box of tissues on the side table. “I’m so, so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” You look up at him attentively as he wipes himself from your face as gently as he can. 
“Why not?”
“Because I didn’t ask you first. I wasn’t thinking clearly.”
Spencer guides your head around by your chin, wiping your jaw and lips. 
“It’s okay, Spence, I—”
“No, it’s not,” he cuts you off, trying to at least turn his guilt into a learning experience for you. He’s not deluded enough to think someone like you will stay with someone like him forever, because sometimes he does things like that, and he’s reminded that there are certainly people out there more deserving of you. At the very least he can clarify that nobody should ever do what he just did to you. “It’s really not nice to do that to someone.”
“Do you care what I think at all?”
Spencer freezes, finally forcing himself to look you in the eye. Despite the fact that he’s mad at himself, he’s sure it’s coming across as being directed at you. And he knows you’re sensitive, especially about this kind of thing. 
“Of course, I do, baby. I’m sorry. Do you want to come back up here with me and tell me what you’re thinking?” he murmurs, cupping your jaw. Hesitantly you nod. The tissues end up on the table—which he will be thoroughlywiping down later—before you crawl back into his lap from the floor. Spencer helps you settle against him, hoping he hasn’t messed this up irreversibly. He keeps his voice quiet as he rubs your leg. “What were you going to say?”
“I was going to say,” you begin, “that it’s fine, because you’ll remember to ask next time. And because… I kind of liked it. I like when—when you do stuff like that.”
It’s a miracle he can hear you with the way your voice drops into an almost-whisper and you’re hiding against his shirt. 
“Like what?” he murmurs. Although he’s not sure he’ll be able to handle the answer. 
“Like… I don’t know. Like you can do whatever you want to me. Like I’m literally yours.” Each word makes you cringe further, but Spencer has to try hard to maintain a cool facade as he processes this. If he’s going to try and be chivalrous, you’ll have to move away from this topic—this revelation—immediately. Thankfully, you seem eager to move on. “So… how did I do?”
He almost laughs. It seems exceedingly obvious how you did, but as per usual, you require verbal reassurance. 
“That was really good, baby. You did well.”
You blossom. 
“Really?”
“I wouldn’t lie.”
“Was I the best girl out of all of the other girls?” 
I wasn’t in love with any of the other girls. 
Just barely, he manages to stop himself from saying it, pinwheeling his arms on the edge of a very steep verbal cliff. The realization that he’s been in love with you for a while hits him like a truck. But he can’t tell you that right now. He should wait until you’re less vulnerable.
Fuck. 
He really wants to tell you right now. 
“Actually—don’t answer that,” you decide, while all of this happens in his head in less than a few seconds. “I want to go back to pretending I’m the only girl you’ve ever seen in your life.”
“You’re the only one that matters,” he offers, relieved to express at least some portion of the much bigger truth. Then he frowns. “Not that the other women I’ve met don’t lead important lives. I actually know a lot of incredibly influential and intelligent people who are women. I have deep respect for all of them. Am I helping or making it worse?” he rambles. You giggle. He has his answer. “What about you? How do you feel?” he asks after a moment, tenderly, lowly, stroking your hair as you lean against his chest. 
It takes you a moment to deliberate, fiddling with the fabric of his shirt. 
“I feel good. I, um… liked it a lot more than I would have thought.”
“Well, that’s good. Much better than if you had hated every second of it.”
You hum in agreement, and he waits for you to say whatever you’re holding back. It comes sooner than he’d have anticipated. 
“I feel bad about the times before. How did you just… go to sleep after? Were you not, like—insanely turned on? Not that I’m, like, irresistibly sexy, or whatever—you know what I mean.”
Spencer smiles because he knows you can’t see him. 
“I wasn’t doing it to pressure you into feeling obligated to reciprocate, I guess. My line of reasoning was that it would be less intimidating if I didn’t even present it as an option until you wanted to try.”
“Oh.”
Spencer thinks he sees where this is going. 
“Why?” he asks, leaning back and encouraging you to look at him. “Are you insanely turned on?”
“Wh—that’s—I didn’t say that!”
Spencer can feel how warm your cheeks are as he presses his lips to the side of your face. 
“You can tell me if you are,” he murmurs, all smiley as he moves to kiss your lips. “If you want something, you need to ask for it. I’m not a mind reader.”
“Yes you are,” you grumble. “That’s literally what behavioral analysis is.”
Not quite true, but surprisingly, he doesn’t feel the need to explain to you the semantics of what he does for work right now. 
“What got you all excited?”
“You know what,” you mumble, trying to look away again. Spencer doesn’t allow it this time, gently grabbing your jaw. 
“Yes, I do. But I want you to tell me. If you want me to make you feel good, this is how you’re going to convince me that you deserve it.”
You whine wordlessly, looking at him with those big, lust-glazed eyes.
“You wanted me to teach you how to use your words, right? This is it. I’m giving you an opportunity. If you don’t want to, that’s okay. Maybe we can take a nap, like you said earlier.”
“No! I liked—um, I liked all of it. I didn’t know if I would, because I was really nervous. But when I first—you know—and you got all quiet… it was like you couldn’t even talk for a minute. I was kind of proud of that. Because normally nobody can ever get you to stop talking.” Spencer narrows his eyes incredulously, a small smile tugging at his lips. But he doesn’t interrupt—not when it seems you’re finally starting to get more confident in your words. “And I really liked the noises you made. I think that was my favorite part. I liked when you pulled my hair back, and how you spoke to me. And when… when you got me messy and I had to swallow it. I really liked how it felt because I couldn’t think of anything else, just making you feel good. I really wanted to… make you proud, I guess. Is that weird?”
Spencer shakes his head no, a fond smile on his face when your eyes meet his again. 
“No. It’s a pretty normal thing to feel when you’re nervous and wanting to impress someone you care about. And I would have been proud no matter what, for the record. You were being very brave.”
You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, watching him expectantly. Spencer should have known you’re too needy to truly absorb anything he says to you right now. Which is actually pretty cute. Everything you do is endearing to him. 
“Stand up.”
You frown. 
“But—”
“Just stand up,” he demands calmly, preferring to think of himself as firm and not bossy. 
You do, looking rather annoyed and confused as you plant yourself in front of him. 
“Why?”
“You are so full of questions.” His hands slip up the side of your legs, under your skirt, and hook in the waistband of your underwear. Spencer looks up at you meaningfully and you nod, swallowing. 
As he pulls down, Spencer can literally feel the resistance of the fabric clinging to your soaked core. Under his touch the skin of your thighs is warm and soft. He wants to feel it on either side of his face, he wants to hear you whine as his stubble rubs against it, he wants to feel it clamp around his wrist, he wants it between his teeth and he definitely wants it pressing against his hips as he—
But no. 
There will be time for all of those things—especially the last one—later. For now, he’ll reach between your legs just to see—
“Oh, my god,” Spencer half-chuckles, half-groans, upon feeling how wet you truly are for him. He drags his knuckles from your dripping entrance up over your clit, pinching very lightly and earning a squeak from you which he ignores. “You really did like having your mouth full of me, huh?”
“I told you,” you breathe, visibly relaxing some as he continues to play with you for a moment. Then he pulls his hand away again, patting his thigh. 
“Sit.”
“You want me to…”
“Yes,” he says, simply. 
“But is it not going to… am I not going to mess up your pants?”
“You are even more neurotic about messiness than I am. I can wash them, honey. Come here.”
Spencer guides your hips over his thigh, watching your pretty face twist with uncertainty as you fully settle on him. Fuck, he can feel your warmth through the fabric instantly. Already he’s getting hard again. 
“What am I supposed to do?” you whisper, bunching his shirt in your fists. Spencer slides your skirt up higher, revealing the way you’re nestled against his thigh. He spreads you a little further apart, exposing more of your clit to the material underneath you. Immediately you press against him—he watches the delicate flesh rubbing gingerly against him and  his grip tightens ever so slightly. 
“All you have to do is rock back and forth. It’s easy.”
Already you’re starting to do it—but he guesses it’s like earlier where you don’t even realize it’s happening. 
“But… I wanted your mouth,” you admit, quietly, slinging your arms around his neck and burying your face there. 
“Do this for me first. Just get yourself off like this one time and then you can have my mouth. You said you wanted to help me feel better because I’m tired today, right?
“Yes,” you mumble, squirming over him. 
“Well, there are a lot of days when I get back home and I’m tired. I’m gonna need you to be able to get on top of me, just like this, and make me feel better. And I know you don’t know what it feels like to have something that deep inside of you yet, but it’s gonna be a lot. Even once you know how it feels to have me inside when you’re underneath me. I need you to practice for me right now so you’ll be ready, okay?”
You could come from the words alone. You nod, dazed with need as you roll your hips in a circle, pressing his thigh against your clit. 
“Back and forth, baby,” he murmurs, guiding your hips forward with his hands locked around them. “Back and forth, just like this…”
You moan quietly, shamelessly, eyes fluttering as you look down and watch your clit dragging over the darkening fabric. It’s easier if you isolate your hips, grinding down without moving your legs or upper body at all. 
“It feels really good,” you whisper under your quickening breath. 
“Yeah? Does it?”
“Mhm.”
“Good, angel. You look like you know what you’re doing.”
It’s audible now, quiet and wet and dirty. 
“I don’t,” you breathe. He sucks in a breath of his own, stilling your hips with fingers pressed deep into your flesh. 
“Sit up, baby.” You really wish he would stop making you stop, but you don’t want to keep going in case he needs you to quit—so you rise slowly, thighs trembling as you kneel. Spencer groans at the strings of your arousal momentarily connecting your core to his pants before they snap, getting your inner thighs wet. There’s a dark, very wet patch over his thigh, shining like glass. He thumbs over your slick clit absentmindedly as he looks up at you like you’re a miracle. “You’re fucking soaked. I’ve never seen you like this. Is this all from making me come?”
You nod feverishly, hips grinding against nothing in search of friction. He sits you back down on his leg, allowing you to sloppily find your rhythm again. Spencer bounces his leg lightly and you cry out softly, buckling forward. His arms wrap around you, still pressing you down against his thigh as you rut against it. 
“You’re sweet. Maybe I should have known how much you’d like it when I came all over your pretty face. You really like hearing that you did a good job, huh? I bet you like it even more when I prove it to you.”
You moan a “yeah,” barely processing his words. 
“My good girl even swallowed on her first try. Took it so well. And now look at how you’re taking this. You’re gonna love riding, baby. Just going to be another thing you’re good at as soon as you try it.”
“Spencer,” you gasp, overwhelmed by the praise. He’s bouncing his leg at regular intervals and everything is so sensitive.
“I know it’s harder to finish this way, but just one time, remember? And then you can have my tongue for as long as you want. You are my only plan for the day. Just give me one like this.”
But it’s not really harder to finish this way. Then again, you’re so turned on you could probably finish if a breeze hit you just right. Regardless, the thought of him going down on you again pushes you even closer to the edge.
You don’t know how much time goes by like that, you rubbing against him like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do, him pressing up into you until the pressure is so taut it snaps. There’s no time to warn him, but you suppose you don’t really need to. You writhe against him, caught between wanting to keep going and not being able to take more stimulation. He lifts you up just slightly, trying to separate you from his leg. You exhale deeply as your body relaxes, already close to dozing off against his chest.
“We can’t have you tapping out just yet. I still have to fulfill my end of the deal.”
In the end, he fulfills it three times over, and you end up showing your appreciation in kind one more time—much slower and more comfortably in his bed. He gives you plenty of time to learn what he likes, taking your teasing and coquettish explorations like a champ and never so much as tightening his grip in your hair. Turns out, you don't exactly spend the day doing nothing.
And you do end up taking that nap after all. Just... much, much later. And with less clothing on.
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hi!! can i request carmy berzatto #16, t? 🤭
Finders, Keepers.
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16. "Is that my shirt?" + t. Roommates
Author's Note - this is written as part of my 500 Followers Celebration!! find that post here if you're interested. my first time writing for beautiful angel boy carmy <3
Pairing - Carmen Berzatto x Female Reader
Age Rating - 18+
Warnings - smut!! + cursing
Word Count - 1185
Masterlist. 500 Follower Celebration Masterlist.
The Roommate Collection.
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Having Carmen Berzatto as a roommate is a blessing and a curse.
It's a blessing for many reasons. He's kind, thoughtful, considerate. He cooks, he cleans, he loads the dishwasher correctly. He's fairly quiet, he respects your boundaries, he always lets you choose the movie to watch. He's perfect in every way, really.
He's perfect in every way. That's the curse.
He's the most attractive man you've ever laid your eyes on. And he cooks. And he cleans. And he's the best roommate you could ever ask for. You're convinced anyone would struggle not to fall in love with him. Anyone.
You've fallen victim to the Berzatto charm. As much as you'd love to tell him, you don't want to ruin this good thing the two of you have. It's not worth it. So, you keep your mouth shut, and your eyes glued to his perfect face whenever he's not looking. It's sometimes painful, but it works.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
You're woken up bright and early by someone knocking on your bedroom door.
"I'm making breakfast. Lesson, or nah?"
Before you met Carmy, you couldn't really cook. Sure, you knew the basics, but he's opened you up to all sorts of new techniques and flavours. Whenever he starts to prepare a meal, he'll ask you if you want a lesson. Sometimes, you'll say no, content to watch him do his thing in the kitchen. More often than not, you'll say yes, allowing him to talk you through what he's doing and why. He explains everything step by step, always ensuring he's thorough but never patronising. These little cooking lessons allowed the both of you to get to know each other, bonding you together.
"Yeah, sure!" you call through the door, still half asleep. "Give me a minute."
You hear him turn the coffee maker on, the sounds of mugs clinking together filling the kitchen.
You stumble out of bed, grabbing around for something to wear. You find a dark grey t shirt on the chair and throw it over your head haphazardly. Pulling some socks on to tackle the morning chill, you run your fingers through your hair before making your way through the apartment.
Carmy's wearing his navy plaid pyjama pants and a white t shirt that hugs his biceps just right. His hair is sticking up in all directions, and it takes everything in you not to reach out and fix it into place.
"Morning, sweetheart," he says without turning around. "What do you want for breakfast, pancakes or waffles?"
"Hmmm," you debate. "Waffles, I think."
"Waffles it is."
Carmen turns around from where he's been brewing the coffee, and almost falls over. You're stood leaning against the counter, hair mussed and eyes still sleepy. Your legs are on full display, socks ending just above your ankle, skin glowing in the morning light. You smell like warmth and a golden sunrise. Carmy holds onto the mug in his hand like his life depends on it.
"Coffee," he stutters, handing it to you. You cross the kitchen and take it from him, kissing him on the cheek as a thank you. You both pretend not to notice the way heat blooms up his chest at the action.
The longer he looks at you, the more he can't put his finger on what it is that's driving him insane. There's something different about you this morning, and it's got him riled up. His eyes rake over your body once, twice, three times before he figures it out.
"Is that my shirt?"
You look down to find that yes, it is. You must have picked it up from the pile of clean laundry he did yesterday accidentally.
"Oh, shit. Sorry, Carmy."
"No, it's okay. You look... you... it's - fuck."
You've never seen his brain short circuit like this, and you're not entirely sure what's happening.
"Are you... alright, Carmy?"
"God," he groans. "Stop saying my name like that."
"... like what?"
"Like... fuck. You say it so fuckin' pretty."
He has a look in his eyes you've never seen before. It's almost animalistic. He looks feral.
He strides over to you, cradling your face in his calloused hands. He presses his forehead to yours, and exhales shakily.
"Will you let me taste you, honey?" he murmurs.
Your breath catches in your throat, and your knees go weak. It's a good job he's holding you up.
"Please," he practically begs. "I'll make you feel real good."
You answer him by smashing your lips to his, hands fisting in the front of his shirt. He kisses you back with vigour, tongues tangling and mouths melding. You moan and he swallows it, committing the sound to memory.
Carmy walks you backwards and hoists you up onto the edge of the kitchen table, before dropping to his knees. He looks debauched, knelt in front of you with wide eyes and swollen lips. You think he's never looked prettier.
He starts by kissing up from your ankles to your thighs, building the tension expertly. You're practically vibrating with anticipation, desperate to feel him where you need him most. Your underwear is soaked through, and you're convinced you're going to go insane if he doesn't get his mouth on you soon.
As if he's reading your mind, he nudges his nose against your covered core, inhaling. He groans at your scent, and it's the filthiest thing you've ever seen. He pulls your underwear down in one quick swoop, looking up at you carefully. You grab the hem of your shirt, ready to pull it over your head, but Carmy stops you.
"Leave it on," he mutters. "Please."
You nod your head, and he takes that as confirmation. He dives into you, lapping you up like a man parched. He's nipping, biting, suckling at you as if he's done it a thousand times before. You prop yourself on your elbows, giving you the perfect view of this perfect man in this perfect situation. He's so eager to please you it makes your heart and your core ache.
"Fuck," he groans. "Sweetest thing I've ever tasted."
He slips two fingers into you with ease, and your back arches. You're writhing, moaning on every out breath, struggling to inhale. Is there anything this man can't do?
You can feel your orgasm building, warm and persistent in your stomach. Carmy can too.
"Come on, honey," he begs. "Give it to me. I want it. Let me have it."
You're not sure if it's his dulcet tone or the way his fingers curl on every upstroke, but you fall apart, hips keening and back canting. You whine his name and he groans, low and deep.
"There we go," he's muttering. "Good girl. That's it. Atta girl."
When he's satisfied you're satisfied, he stands up and kisses you again, allowing you to taste yourself on his bitten lips.
"No Michelin star dish is ever going to compare to that," he teases against your mouth. You both laugh, giddy off of each other.
"Shut up," you giggle. "Now, are we making waffles, or what?"
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6K notes · View notes
nattblacklupin · 27 days
Text
Ice and shadows
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Pairing: hockey player! Azriel x fem! Reader
Warnings: cursing, lots of fluff
Summary: headcanons about hockey player! Azriel
Hockey player! Cassian ● masterlist
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Azriel is defence, He's the quiet and fast one that is nearly invisible on the ice if you don't pay attention to him.
His sneaky ability to not be seen isn't put to use just on the ice to suprise his opponents. He especially likes to use it when scaring his beloved wife, you.
You waited for Azriel to come back home from yet another training. The playoffs are close, and they are working harder than ever. He stays there even longer than his teammates, scared of failing once again - no one on the Velaris team wants to lose in the semifinals like last year. They made stupid mistakes that couldn't happen again. All of them will make sure of it.
With lids feeling heavier every second, you try to still pay attention to your favourite show. It will surely keep you awake until Azriel arrives home.
Long yawn left you as something touched your shoulder. With scream, you jumped up. Now awake and aware with a feeling of adrenaline. You quickly grabbed the vase that was on the coffee table, on which you nearly fell. Ready to fight any intruder that could come in your home. "Woah, who knew I married such a dangerous woman." Focusing your eyes and slowly calming down, you realise that the scary intruder is just your husband finally home. With that, you put down the vase and jumped on him, wrapping your legs around his waist. "Never scare me like that again," you whisper into his lips. "I wouldn't dream of it." He finally kissed you with plans that will keep you awake for the whole night.
Azriel isn't exactly the type to force you to wear his jersey to games. It's up to you, you can wear whatever you want. He can fight. But oh, mother, when you wear his jersey, it awakes something in him. You having his name on your ass and in your passport is dream come true for him. He is thanking the stars every night for blessing him with your presence.
It was an important match today, the whole Velaris team stressing about it for weeks. This match will decide which team will go to playoffs. Azriel left long ago, which left you home alone with a lot of work. You didn't mind, though. At least you could take your mind off the potential loss that can happen today.
Being finally done with all chores, you decided it's the time to start getting ready. It's better to be there sooner rather than later. Knowing that Azriel doesn't play well without his good luck kiss. Your heart nearly stopped when you checked the time. The game starts in twenty minutes. It's nowhere the time you wished you would have. Your hair is still messy, dressed in Azriels shirt without make up you started running around the house, trying to get ready as fast as possible. Glad for the fact that the stadium was 5 minutes from your home if you ran. Swiftly putting on stray pants that were on the floor, where you threw them yesterday, grabbing Azriels jersey you run out of the house. Your feet took you to the stadium in a record time of three minutes, quickly finding your way to the cabins where the players are probably now doing the last steps of their pregame routine. You open the door while taking deep breaths. "Azriel". Azriels shoulders visibly releax, "you came." He whispered like he thought you forgot, like you wouldn't come to support your husband in the second thing that mattered the most to him. "Of course I did"
As said before, Azriel has to have his good luck kiss, or he just can't play well. Everybody teases him for it, but behind his back, they are begging you to never skip his game. The one time it happened was enough.
Fortunately for everyone, it was just practice match before the season, where it didn't exactly matter if the team won. But every match mattered to them, no matter with whom or when. They are here to show they are the best.
That's probably why everybody was taken by suprised when Azriel was clumsy on the ice and couldn't keep balance. His usually incredibly fast skating turned into woblly slow skating. It got that bad he himself decided not to play that day, saying that he just can't.
Azriel never exactly told anyone it was cause you didn't came to the game and weren't his lucky charm. But it was more than clear to anyone who isn't blind.
Since that day, you had to come to every game. And if you couldn't, well you suddenly could. Because Cassian has no problem with stealing you away and bringing you to the game
"No, Cass, I really can't come. I have to do this work. I can probably make it in time for third period, but I'm not sure." Explaning your reasons to Cassian was harder than anyone could ever imagine. He didn't understand that you had work that had to be done today or that your boss would literally kick you out. Sometimes, you feel like your boss is secret hater of your boyfriend, and that's why he tries to keep you in work longer, just on days when he plays. "You will come, we don't care about your opinion." Cassian responded stubborn as ever, "well I don't care about yours too. " With that, you left the call, finally doing papers given to you by the boss.
Ten minutes in someone barged into your office, putting you over their shoulder like a sack of potatoes. "Cassian! What the hell are you doing?!" You yelled at him, keeping your anger at bay, or you would have to punch him. "Saving the match" confidence and pride dripping from his voice. You lifted up your head, looking at him with an annoyed look. "Fine." Crossing your arms letting out a sigh still swinging over his shoulder, "but I swear to gods, if I get fired, you will send me money every month"
Don't think that your relationship with Azriel is any secret or not medially famous. It's quite the opposite.
You two are the most famous and loved couple in hockey word. Sometimes, Rhysand is jokingly complaining about how you're stealing his spotlight and becoming more famous than the whole team.
People love to edit you two with cute songs and use every cute clip that is on the internet.
The most famous being moment where he is on the ice sending you kiss after scoring a goal. Or where someone recorded you two while skating on public ring, Azriel having to hold your hands so you don't fall. It resulted in both of you falling because some kid bumped into you.
Not to mention that Azriel loved taking you to all of his interviews. Like all of them.
Reporter wanting to have an interview with him without you? Nope, it's not happening. You two are double version, it's not possible to get one without the other.
"So Azriel, tell us, what was the biggest motivation for winning this match? Was there something - perhaps someone you won this for?" Azriel nodded his head and looked at you, love sparkling in his eyes. " Of course I did. Like every match. " The camera captures the way his hand snakes around your waist, with feathery like touches caressing it.
"I won it for my wife"
355 notes · View notes
i-love-ptv · 4 months
Note
hii babes i love your writing! wondering if i could request something w felix catton? thinking abt him being so sweet n gentle and talking his girl through it 🫣
My Eyes Are Wide Like Cherry Pies
Pairing: Felix Catton x fem!reader
Fluff + Smut!
Wc: 659
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An: Thank you so much for requesting sweets! I’m so so SO sorry for it coming out incredibly late. School is kinda kicking my butt, and I wanted to make my first request perfect for you lovelies! <333
Hopefully i did this request justice :)
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“Honey, I swear you’re made f’me. We fit s’perfectly t’gether. See?”
Felix nudges your head down; urging you to look down at where your bodies connect.
In the corner of your eye you see the long forgotten Harry Potter book that you had been reading earlier. Everyone at Saltburn had been passing it around, Felix had just given it to you yesterday.
The morning started with soft kisses from your lover in his cozy, spacious bed.
“I have somethin’ planned for us t’day beautiful,” he whispered between pecks.
After breakfast, Felix led you to the field, where you laid and read as he picked tiny flowers for you. Most of them were just mere weeds, but you appreciated them nonetheless.
“F’you, my sweet girl,” he declared triumphantly.
The two of you visited the pool, where you splashed about and giggled until your chests hurt.
“Go change into some nice clothes darling, I have lunch covered,” he said with a smile between kisses. He tried to resist, really! But he can’t help but try to nip at your soft, cherry chapstick-flavored lips.
You changed out of your bathing suit and put on your fresh clothes. As you touched up your hair, you noticed a note on the bed saying, “meet me in the maze, dove”
You giggled, and dashed into the heart of the labyrinth, and there before you was your darling Felix, sprawled out on a blanket with an arrangement of foods in front of him. He had a few flowers alongside the blanket, you remember overhearing Farleigh snickering at him for picking the puny weeds. “‘F’you my sweet girl.’ Those were fuckin’ weeds you brick.” “Then why do they look like flowers Farleigh?! She liked them so obviously they’re some type of flower!”
He beckoned you over as he snuffed out his cigarette.
Soft murmurs were exchanged between the two of you as you read to Felix, while he gently pushed cherries into your mouth.
You leant down and placed a sugary sweet chaste kiss onto his plump lips. One kiss turned into who knows how many, each slowly turning into something more; something lustful.
Which is how the pair of you ended up in the position: you pushed into the blanket with your legs raised, as Felix grunts and whines between every thrust.
“My God..D’you feel me there honey? M’in your tummy sweet girl.” Felix whispers between giggles.
His thrusts are uncoordinated, borderline messy. But there’s something so domestic and soft about this. His firm grip on your plushy thighs, the abrupt moans and pants escaping both of your mouths; mixing and tangling in the air as your hands continue to grip and drag against Felix’s warm flesh.
His pace is slow, making sure that you feel every ounce of his love. He may not be the best in certain situations, but this is the time where he can show his love for you in the best way he knows how.
Felix burrows his face into your neck and grins; feeling your cunt tighten around his pulsing cock.
“Let go f’me lovie. Mmmn…M’sweet dove. Right here with you, promise m’not letting you go.” Felix coos softly in your ear.
“Mmmb..c’mon baby let go f’me. Uh huh, f’course I’ll cum with you. You’re s’sweet aren’t you, precious?”
Felix lifts his head and nuzzles his nose against yours, his clammy, warm hand searches for yours on the wrinkled blanket.
He mewls and cries as he finishes. His liquid seed drips down your hole and he puts his head against your stomach as you arch upwards; reaching your high.
As you’re regaining control of your senses, you see a bright, juicy cherry being waved in front of your eyes.
You glance downwards and see Felix adorning his usual sly smirk.
“Cherry?”
You chuckle airily and bite the fruit off the stem.
It may be unusual, but you live for these soft, domestic moments between you and your prince.
659 notes · View notes
andy-15-07 · 3 months
Text
Our joy
masterlist ! pairing: Corionalus Snow x reader
SUMMARY :During the nights spent in the office and with the obligations of the president of Panem, when he gets home he goes where he needs to, to his wife and daughter.
GENRE: fluff, loveeee , dad!Corionalus
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Opening the door to the bedroom he shares with his beautiful wife, Y/n. They knew each other since they were little, through their parents, and since then they remained best friends, but during the Academy, Coryo confessed his love for Y/n.
Through what they went through together, their relationship remained close and loving even during the period when Coriolanus was away in District 12 as a peacekeeper. They always found methods of communication, on the phone, letters.
Coryo scans the bedroom for the other person who makes him smile even in the hardest moments, his beautiful daughter, Athena Snow.
He changes his mind and decides to go see what his treasure is doing and there he finds his beautiful daughter, who is 3 months old.
When I open my eyes, I look at the clock and notice that it's past midnight, turning to the side where Coryo sleeps next to me, with his arms around me but I meet his side is empty.
I decided to go see what my daughter is doing, if she needs anything. Putting my robe and slippers on me, coordinate my way out of te room in the dark , walking down the hallway right to Athena's room . I see some dim light coming from inside and now I'm sure Coriolanus is in there , but arriving I am welcomed by the sweetest and most innocent picture.
My husband sitting in the rocking chair in the corner, only in his pajama pants , with our daughter in his arms, her head resting on his bare chest, her tiny hands pressed against his skin, sleeping peacefully, as if she had no reason to take care in the whole world. Well, she really doesn't have it when she has her father to take care of her.
Standing at the door, I take a moment to admire this beautiful view. I knew that my dear husband is an amazing father, even before Athena was born.
Coriolanus was attentive to his little girl who was sleeping so beautifully in his arms, that he did not see me standing in the doorway.
"Hello love, I hope we didn't disturb you." Coryo says to me and extends his hand towards me, a sign that he makes for me to go next to him, which I accept and sit next to him.
"Hello, you didn't disturb me. Did Athena start crying? I didn't hear her."
"She wasn't. I came home, so I came to check up on her and she was up, so I thought I would try to put her to sleep before she starts the usual show."
He slowly stood up, careful not to wake Athena, but as long as she is on his chest, I know she won't be fussing anytime soon. I watch him put her back into the crib, pulling her little blanket over her.
"She grew up so fast. I feel like it was just yesterday when you told me you were pregnant" says Coryo and examines our daughter.
"She is very beautiful, she has your eyes, your curly hair, maybe when she grows up she will also have your initiative. She is our girl, Coryo." The two of you stand at the crib, staring down at the tiny sleeping girl in awe , I'll never get enough of her. I snake my arms around Coriolanus's waist and he pulls me close to him, kissing the top of my head.
"Y/n thank you for everything you did for me, you gave me a daughter. You make me the happiest man in all of Panem" he says and pulls me closer to him and kisses me.
"Coryo, I thank you for everything."
"Y/n Snow I love you so much that I would do anything for you. And I love you too my little Athena."
"I love you too Coriolanus Snow."
With all that happened in the past, but from now on we will focus on our future, our daughter's and the future of Panem. With Coriolanus as President and me as First Lady, everything will be fine.
670 notes · View notes
taintedcigs · 10 months
Text
i know places — e.m.
pairing: eddie munson x popular cheerleader!f!reader
warnings: 18+ ONLY, minors dni!!, ANGST, smut, p in v, kind of degradation, jealousy, praises, nicknames, br*eding kink, cre*mpie, FIGHT!!, eddie beats someone up, gareth is an asshole im sorry, and some flufff
summary: in which you are secretly dating eddie because his friends don't like you (wc: 6k+)
a/n: HELLO hello I AM BACK! i kind of hate this, and the ending sucks pls ignore it but i wanted to post it so bad bc i love ts x eddie!! also a part of this was heavily HEAVILY inspired by an ep of veronica mars bc its one of my fav shows!! also no dividers and i didn't proof-read SO PLEASE ignore the mistakes plss
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Four months.
It had been four months since you and Eddie had started to “secretly date.”
And in all honesty, it had been fun. The sneaking around, the private dates, the quick fuck seshs in school, in the supply closet, after his D&D campaigns, in his van, in the woods.
And the teasing, oh god, the teasing.
It's why you were currently scrunched up in the back of his van, ragged breathing and curses, heavy tension filling the space.
“You done teasin’?” he asked, hovering over you.
It started with the glances in the hallway, at first, Eddie thought they were innocent. But the way you threw your head back as you touched Andy’s arm had Eddie’s jaw clenched.
He was sure his blood was boiling by the time he dragged you back to his van.
He dismissed your concerns about how he shouldn’t skip English again, he could care less, he needed you, and he needed you now.
It was driving him crazy too, while he had fun, he hated the idea of not being able to tell those stupid jocks to back off of his girl.
He hated the stupid school hierarchy and his friends for having to keep this relationship a secret, he hated not being able to show you off.
“Teasing?” You asked, an innocent smile playing on your lips.
“C’mon don’t play coy now.” He warned, “I know what you were tryin’ to do with that stupid jock.” He scoffed.
“And did it work?” You batted your lashes, and he rolled his tongue inside of his cheek. “Yeah.” He barely gave you any time to adjust before his lips hungrily attacked yours.
So needy and filled with lust that you couldn’t help the whimpers that escaped your lips. He didn’t waste any time as he reached for the edge of your tiny top almost ripping it off and letting it drop to the van’s floor.
You could feel your breath hitch with how rough he was being, his calloused fingers flipping your cheerleader skirt and moving your panties aside, sliding a finger as he groaned at the wetness, partying your pussy to get a better view of your gushing heat.
“Fuckfuckfuck.” He cursed under his breath, “Such a pretty fucking pussy, baby,” He peppered your heat. “All mine, yea?” He asked needily.
His fingers worked your clit with little circles, causing you to whimper out. “Mhmm.” You barely let out, eyes shutting immediately in pleasure.
His fingers worked to stretch you open, and his visible bulge was pressing hard against his uncomfortable pants, you knew you would get what you had been begging for all morning soon.
“You think it’s fuckin’ funny to try to make me jealous?” He raised a brow, and you stopped your lips from twitching into a smirk, you didn’t need him to edge you, not right now, not when you needed him this much.
“Nuh-uh.” You pouted, “Only did it cause you kept flirting with that girl yesterday at the gig.” You huffed, you knew you were being petty, but could care less, the downside to this whole deal was the fact that you couldn’t tell those girls to back off of him, you just had to smile and watch as they swooned all over him.
And if he could play at that game, so could you.
He gave you a slight chuckle before his fingers plunged in and out of you, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit as you moaned for more. “Needy fuckin’ slut.” He’s being mean, and you love it.
“I’ll give you all the attention you need, yea? Such a bratty baby.” He teased.
You cried out when he retracted his fingers, feeling empty as you pouted at him. He was quick to get his aching cock out of the uncomfortable boxers, bouncing against his stomach as he hissed.
His breathing was ragged as his cock flexed in his palm, causing your thighs to tremble with need, “Do something.” You breathed.
He raised a brow at your eagerness, “Please,” You pleaded, tears welling in your eyes at the pent-up frustration inside of you.
He was quick to dip his head down your chest, mouth nibbling at your nipples, and you arched against his fingers, he was driving you crazy and you could feel his aching cock brush against your thighs.
“So fuckin’ perfect,” He cried out pinching your clit, “And all mine,” You liked how rough and possessive he got when he was jealous, you didn’t care that it was wrong, your heat was pulsing relentlessly with need.
“Jesus,” He cried out when he had one hand on your hip, and used the other to rub the tip of his pulsing cock against your entrance.
You trembled with desire when he teased you further, his pink tip sliding easily over your soaking cunt, “C’mon, thought you wanted to fuckin’ tease me?” He mocked.
“You’re already cryin’ out like a whore and I haven’t even touched you properly yet, peach,” He cooes, causing you to whine.
“N—need you,” Barely able to speak, you spread your thighs further, and Eddie gives you a chuckle, his mocking was making you throb even more.
“Jesus fucking Christ, you spread your legs like that for that dumb jock too, honey?” His words are laced with bitterness and you’re quick to shake your head.
“Uh—uh, only you,” You whine, he’s rough as he grabs your cheeks making you look at him, your eyes widen as you desperately plead for him to do something  — anything.
“Since I own this tight little cunt, I’m gonna use it like I fuckin’ want to,” He growls, and you whimper at that, Eddie’s lips tilt into a smirk, he knows you enjoy his words. “You want that, peach? You want me to wreck this pretty little pussy? Fill you to the brim with my warm load?” He asks, and it makes you tilt your head backward in pleasure when he teases his tip against your entrance again.
“Mpmhm… Fuckfuckfuck, yes please!” You’re practically shaking with the need to be fucked.
He grasped your wrists in one hand, pinning them against the cold walls of his van, making you hiss, barely giving you any warning before he slowly prodded his aching cock inside your velvety walls.
“Fuckohfuckohfuck,” His breathing was ragged and you could almost feel his cock splitting you open, your mouth rounding into a silent ‘Oh.’
As he plunged himself deeper into you, your back arched back toward him, making your cunt clamp down on his cock, and he growled, “S’fuckin’ tight, poor baby must’ve felt so empty without my cock, yea?” He cooes and you nod quickly.
You could feel your insides burn, both from need and from how big Eddie was. “Mmmph, greedy fuckin’ cunt. Takin’ me so well, honey.” He murmured peppering your face with kisses, you could barely take in his words, your mind clouded with desire.
Your eyes welled up in tears again, it felt so fucking good, feeling him this deep inside of you, “Shhh… you can do it baby,” Eddie encouraged as he forced himself deeper into your soaking walls.
“Be a good girl and take it all, can you do that honey?” You nodded immediately, Eddie’s hands were quick to caress your cheeks, “Good fuckin’ girl,” He murmured before he went on and on, his cock invading your walls until he was sure he was balls deep inside of you.
You couldn’t help the filthy squeaks that escaped your lips, the space of the van filled with your mewls and Eddie’s balls slapping against you.
He licks your neck before he bites hard onto your shoulder, his grunts filling the room as he plunges harder into you.
“Jesus fucking— mmpfh… just like that honey,” He murmurs into your neck, “My perfect fuckin’ girl.”
“Look so fuckin’ pretty when you’re all fucked out like this,” He nibbles on your neck, hands pinching your nipples. “Gonna be the fuckin’ death of me, baby,” He groans as he slams further inside of you.
“Edsedsedseds!” You repeat like a mantra, “What’d’ya need, peach?” He asks smugly.
“Jesus— n-need to cum!” You cry out and Eddie’s brain short-circuits for a moment, as you lay beneath him, plump lips making ‘Oh!’ sounds as your head is tilted back, and Eddie revels in it.
“Do it, honey. Cum for me,” He encourages.
“Need that tight little cunt to clamp down on me, peach,” He groans, and your whimpers get louder, you know you’re getting close and Eddie can feel how much you tighten around him.
“Shitshitshiiit— baby, this cunt is so fuckin’ greedy, and so fuckin’ tight,” He grunts. “All mine, angel.”
“’M close, Eds…” You barely blurt out in your fucked out state, and Eddie coos, “Cum for me, honey, c’mon cream my cock.”
He tilts his hips up further and hits your velvety walls so perfectly that almost has your eyes crossing.
Once his calloused fingers make their way onto your clit, rubbing slow circles and also giving your sensitive spot a pinch you cry out, trembling beneath him as you feel yourself release around his cock.
He lets out a loud grunt, “S’fuckin’ tight when you cum, shit— Gonna fuck my load into you, baby.”
“You want that? You want me to fill that pretty pussy, have you leakin’ my cum for days?” You nod weakly, still too fucked out to answer.
“Fuckfuckfuck— yeah, baby, gonna fill your tight little hole up, gonna give you all this cum,” He grunted.
“Would you like that honey? Shit—so fuckin’ tight, beg for it, beg for me, princess—” He almost growls into the curve of your neck, his hips slamming forward roughly, “Please—Eds, please, need your cum…” You make a mewling sound and Eddie can’t help himself, he’s pounding into you like a dog in heat and he knows he’s getting close now.
“Jesus—I’m gonna cum, honey. God—I’m gonna spend all of my load in this tight little cunt peach, it’s takin’ me so well, baby, I couldn’t pull out even if I wanted to, fuckfuckfuck—”
“Goin’ to fuck my load into you, baby, need to fill you up nice and sweet,” He cooes, mind boggling with the sight of your tits jiggling each time he slams harder into you, he knows he is rearing his orgasm with the way his hips stutter.
“Cum inside’a me, please,” You purr, eyes sultry as they meet Eddie’s, his grip on your hips tightens enough to leave a mark, your words sending a wave of pleasure to him as his movement is picked up.
“Mhmm, I love it when you fill me up s’warm and nice, and make me yours,” You murmured and that was it for Eddie.
His groans became uncontrollable now, and his eyes squeezed shut, he slammed into your body one last time, roughly, a string of curses spilled from his lips before his cock pulsated and his warm sticky load painted your insides, already spilling out of your tight cunt with how stuffed you were, falling down your thighs. 
With a few “Fuckfuckfuck’s” Eddie collapsed on top of you, lips peppering your face softly as he wrapped an arm around you, murmuring, “You okay, baby?”
You nodded quickly, “Mhmm…” You relaxed into his warm body, “That fuckin’ punk really thought he could flirt with you, huh?” He chuckled; he was still possessive, bringing a dark smile to your lips.
“You know what you have to do to keep them away, don’t you?” You raised a brow, and he immediately knew what you were implying, but he wasn’t ready for any of it.
“Not this again,” He huffed, and you were quick to get out of his hold, you weren’t the type to push a guy around to make things exclusive, but with Eddie, you wanted nothing more than that, you didn’t even care about the teasing you would endure when the two of you made things official, but he certainly did, and it was starting to hurt you.
“Nevermind,” You murmured, searching for your clothes as Eddie got up, “Why are we in such a hurry?” He asked, tone worried. “We already skipped one class, I don’t wanna skip another one, doofus.” You narrowed your eyes at him before slipping on your skirt, sighing in relief when you found your panties discarded on the floor.
“You mad at me or somethin’?” You could tell how fragile he was acting around you, and it made your heart ache, but all of the secrets and running around were getting to you, the girls that were throwing themselves at Eddie as he flashed them a chuckle made your blood boil, you couldn’t take it anymore.
“No, it’s just super fucking tiring to act like you don’t exist, when you’re the only person I want in my life,” Your words come out faster than you mean to, and you look at him with such a hopeful gaze that Eddie’s heart tightens, the last thing he wants to do is hurt you.
“Honey…” He whispers, before pulling your body to his again, “You have no fuckin’ idea how much I want that to happen, but—”
“But, what?” Your voice is irritated.
“But you know how the guys are, you know how annoying Gareth—” You immediately scoff at the name.
You had no idea when or why it happened.  You had no idea what caused him to act this way toward you. But Eddie’s friends absolutely hated you.  Especially Gareth. Jeff also did not like the fact that you were the head cheerleader, but Gareth almost had a vendetta against you, you had barely interacted with him, but the boy was out to get you.
You were fine with the kids, Dustin and Mike had adored you the second you protected them against Carver’s idea of a joke. Lucas, with his new place on the basketball team, understood you, granted he had no idea of what was happening between you and Eddie, but he knew you were Eddie’s friend, and he knew how hard Eddie’s friends have been on you.
And that is exactly why you and Eddie had decided to keep your relationship a secret that started a few months ago.
Eddie had doubts about what people would say about your relationship, and he couldn’t handle the fact that his friends would have a say in it, he wanted to keep you away from them, as long as possible.
And he assumed your popular friends wouldn’t be so keen on him, either.
So you agreed to keep the relationship a secret, but it was eating away at you now.
“It’s about him again, isn’t it?” You asked, shaking your head with a chuckle. “Four months and you can’t even dare to say I’m your girlfriend, because of fucking Gareth,” You spat out.
“It’s not just about that—Jesus, you think your cheerleader and jock friends would fuckin’ enjoy havin’ the freak around?” His tone was louder now and you hated it.
“I don’t care! I don’t give the slightest fuck what they would think about my boyfriend, it’s my business and they don’t fucking get a say in it, Eddie!” Your insecurities were on the surface now, even if Eddie couldn’t tell, you were hurt by him wanting to hide you away this much, caring more about Gareth who had this twisted game of trying to hurt you, and it made you feel like absolute shit like Eddie could care less about you.
“Don’t you think I fuckin’ know that? I do! But Gareth—” You scoffed interrupting him as you turned around to face him. “Fuck him!” Your voice raised in fury.
“Look, Eddie, if you don’t want this—” Your hand was quick to point between the two of you, “Just say the fucking word.”  
“You’re twistin’ my fuckin’ words around,” His voice didn’t hold the confidence it did before, his eyes were washed over with guilt and worry, he couldn’t afford to lose you, and if he kept being a jackass, it looked like he was going to.
“You’re unbelievable,” He scoffed, “I’m unbelievable?” You quoted him, eyes narrowing again.
Eddie was on his last straws and he knew it, but he couldn’t get himself to back down, he couldn’t let you see the vulnerable side of him this soon, there was no way you would be able to stay with him, not when you saw how fragile he actually was.
“Yeah! You fuckin’ are,  acting all insane and shit just because you felt jealous over some stupid girls—” And he stops there because the exasperation of breath that slipped past your lips is so loud that he realizes what he just said.
“Fuck you,” You say it so ironically and humorously, that Eddie likes to think this is one of those ironic ‘Fuck you’s you had uttered to him before, slightly nudging his side as you gave him a warm smile, but you’re nothing but cold now.
“If you think that’s what this is about then I have nothing to say to you,” Your voice was timid before you made your way to the door, Eddie’s faint mumbles of your name were just dizzying your mind when you felt the hot tears threatening to spill down your cheeks.
And with that, Eddie spent the rest of the day either sulking or using other people as his anger outlet, he knew it wasn’t fair, but he couldn’t help it when you spent the rest of the day ignoring him, acting like he didn’t even exist, and it was killing him.
It got so much worse for him around lunchtime, his table was facing you, and his throat tightened, a lump forming at the fact that you didn’t even glance at him, not even turning your head toward his direction.
Eddie was fidgeting in his seat, he was itching to run over to your side, scream at the top of his lungs that you were his girlfriend, and kiss you, right in front of the entire school.
It was killing him, not being able to show you how much he fucking loved you. And his mind was now swirling with the idea that you finally realized how much of a loser he was, or that you finally realized how he didn’t deserve you, not in the slightest bit.
After one fucking conversation he had managed to push you away, and possibly manage to ruin one good fucking thing in his life, and he wanted to bang his head against the table while yelling out idiotidiotidiot!
Eddie knew he had to do something, as soon as possible, you were slipping away from his fingers, and he couldn’t handle losing you.
You were doing everything you can to avoid his gaze, no matter how much your head itched to cock in his direction.
Trying your best to stay unbothered as you attempted to laugh genuinely at the cheesy jokes Andy was providing the table with.
And Eddie’s blood was boiling, you seriously didn’t mean to make him jealous, but it didn’t matter to him, you were acknowledging everyone and specifically Andy right now but him, and it made Eddie’s jaw clench uncontrollably.
The banter going on at the table was unknown to him, but it made your skin crawl as if Gareth was saying some stupid shit about you again as if the entire table was mocking you, it was cruel, or at least it felt cruel to you.
That’s when your throat tightened up, your mind foggy as you could barely focus on anything but the chatter going on at Eddie’s table.
The cafeteria noises were pounding in your head now, jock’s table filled with the obnoxious laugh of Jason Carver, and you could even hear Robin blabbing something to Steve somewhere behind you. It was all a blur to you by now.
It surely had nothing to do with you but your mind and anxiety were enough to convince you that Gareth was making fun of you at the table. That little voice in your head there to tell you all the worst possibilities.
You barely noticed Eddie’s body burning off with rage when you were so focused on trying to hear what Gareth was saying, it shouldn’t have bothered you this much, but knowing how close he was to Eddie and how much he hated you… maybe it meant something.
Maybe Gareth knew that you were not good enough for Eddie, maybe you deserved it.
Maybe Gareth was right, maybe you were not right for Eddie, maybe he deserved to be with someone who liked his stupid D&D game, someone who didn’t conform, someone who wasn’t a coward, maybe someone who wasn’t a—
“Hey…”
“You okay?” Chrissy’s concerning voice caused your train of thought to disappear, at least pushing it back into your subconscious until you were ready to face your problems again.
“Mhmm,” You were quick to flash her with a smile, it wasn’t genuine and she probably knew it wasn’t genuine but, she stood silent as she didn’t want to put you on blast in front of everyone, giving you a tight-lipped smile and a reassuring squeeze in your arm, and you invited it in, cold demeanor changing within seconds.
And Eddie could sense it now, sitting across you, leaning in his chair like a storm isn’t brewing in his head, eyeing you carefully.
You slowly readjusted yourself, eyes quickly stealing a glance from Eddie’s table–but never at him.
And if he wasn’t watching he would’ve missed it, but he didn’t—hope inside of him blossoming like never before.
He was fidgeting to get out of his seat, run over to you, hands itching to hold you again, never to let go this time.
Your quick glance, instead of resulting in Eddie’s attention, brought Gareth’s unwarranted attention to you.
You felt uncomfortable in your seat now, you knew now your anxiety about him talking awfully about you to Eddie would be true now.
“She’s such a spoiled brat,” Gareth blurted out.
“Who are you talking about?” Jeff asked mindlessly, hands dipped into the fries he had been munching on.
“That stupid cheerleader,” Eddie’s head snapped at the mention of that, surely Gareth didn’t mean—Oh.
It was as if the rage building in within Eddie had snapped within seconds, thoughts in his head swirling, blaming Gareth for the fight.
“Watch it,” Eddie’s voice spoke before he turned his attention to Gareth, the table immediately quitening down.
“Excuse me?” Gareth questioned, taken aback, before Eddie cocked his head in his direction.
“Don’t fuckin’ talk about her,” His teeth were gritted, and your ears perked up at the rise in Eddie’s voice.
“The fuck are you on about?” Gareth replied back, the tension in the table was rising and Dustin was fidgeting im his seat by now.
“I’m telling you to keep your mouth shut when it comes to her, is that clear?” Eddie bounced from his seat, so quickly that he didn’t realize the entire cafeteria staring at him, including you.
Gareth gave him a confused chuckle, “I’m sorry?”
“Are you defending a cheerleader now or what? Have you forgotten how awful they have been to us?” He raised a brow.
“She didn’t do anything,” Eddie defended you like his life depended on it, he couldn’t believe how stupid he was being, for caring about Gareth’s half-witted input on you, like he ever actually had a conversation with you other than throwing insults to your way under his breath.
“So leave her alone,” It was more like a threat than anything else, and your heart skipped a beat when you saw the scene, Eddie not noticing your gaze, blinded by the rage.
Eddie was barely hanging by a thread, the way he leaned over the table eyes bulging out as he stood over Gareth, everyone could sense it.
A loud whoo’s from the jock’s table caused you to huff, before you knew it, Jason Carver was involved.
“Trouble in paradise?” He shouted, followed by the obnoxious laughter of his followers, they called Eddie the leader of a satanic cult but by the looks of it, Jason and his stupid little jocks fit the description more.
“Oh, shut it, Carver,” Your mouth opened before your mind could process it, heads turned toward you and you were afraid to look back up now.
The laughter from Jason’s table had died down, and you could feel plenty of eyes on you, but what mattered the most, you could feel Eddie’s burning gaze on you, the storm in his mind calming down with your tone.
Before you knew it everyone went into something else, Chrissy was quick to start a conversation and you could see from the corner of your eye that Dustin had probably took on the same job, spewing nonsense until the tension deviated.
Eddie had slumped into his seat now, thighs spread wide open while his leg fidgeted, his anger had dissipated—eyes trained on you again, it was so obvious now, even Chrissy was nudging you.
The conversation at the table was no longer interesting, he didn’t even attempt to care if Gareth was okay, you stood up to him in front of the entire school, so mindlessly that Eddie felt like a coward.
Guilt ran through his veins quicker than it intended to, Eddie knew he has been acting like an idiot, but you had opened his eyes further.
He knew he had to talk to you.
And once he saw you leaving the cafeteria alone, he knew it was now or never.
He barely waited right after you left, ignoring the voices from the table calling out for him as he waved them off, mumbling incoherently about how he had to take care of something.
You stopped when you heard his weighted footsteps, jogging after you as he called your name.
You were afraid to turn around, afraid to ask him what had happened that made him lash out at Gareth like that.
“I’m sorry,” were the first words that slipped past his almost trembling lips, his honey-brown eyes mellow.
“I said some really stupid things I shouldn’t have said,” were the words that followed, you could tell he meant it, ragged breath escaping with each word, he was nervous.
Your heart tightened in your chest, unable to open your mouth, you stared at him like a deer caught in headlights.
“I—I don’t need you to say anything,” He breathed again, and it’s not like you could get any words out now, they all died down in your throat.
“I just need you to trust me,” He murmured, calloused hands coming in contact with your shoulders as he held you steady, your legs feeling like jelly when he looked at you like that.
“W—with what?” You didn’t mean to stutter, but you couldn’t help it when he was standing this close to you, it didn’t matter if you had been dating for the last four months, you could tell something in him had changed, with the way he held you in public, your mind getting excited about the possibilities.
“I’m gonna fix this,” He pointed between the two of you, almost mimicking you from before.
“I’ll pick you up at 7, does that sound okay?” He gave you a warm smile, teeth flashing and dimples forming on the right side of his cheek, making you giggle immediately.
“O–okay,” You didn’t mean to sound so excited–almost desperate, but you could feel your insides twist with hope with each of his words, breaking down the guards you spent building up all these years.
He gave you a sloppy kiss on your cheek, his smile never wearing off, “See you after school, yea?” You nodded quickly, heat rising up on your cheeks.
By the time Eddie picked you up by your house, your chest tightened, the whole ride was more silent than usual, the stereo Eddie usually blasted now stayed as a background noise as you fidgeted in your seat.
“Are you ever gonna tell me where we are going? Or at least what we’re gonna do?” You asked curiously, head cocking to his side.
“So impatient,” He mocked, hands drumming on the steering wheel before he flashed you a smile.
“We’re almost there,” He announced, and the roads were becoming all too familiar to you now.
“Are we going to the trailer?” You asked excitedly, and Eddie threw you a look.
“You do know what surprises mean, don’t you?” He raised his brows and flashed a teasing smile, his eyes dancing with amusement.
You huffed playfully, crossing your arms against your chest.
“You do realize how cute you look when you get all mad like that?”
"Oh, stop it," you stammered, covering your face slightly with your hands, attempting to hide your embarrassment and the smile that threatened to betray you.
Eddie flashed a toothy-grin, dimples ever so present, you couldn't tear your eyes away from him, even if you wanted to.
Gaze lingered on his features longingly, as if trying to capture every detail in your memory. “Thank you for today,” He murmured, almost embarrassed, looking out on the road as his hands got clammy on the steering wheel.
You know exactly what he was thanking you for, but you still threw him a puzzled look.
“For standing up to Carver like that,” He adds, clearing his throat,
“I doubt you realize it Eddie but—”
“I think I’d pretty much do anything for you,” The words blurted out before you could process them, brain jumbled from everything that happened today.
A soft smile curved his lips as he watched you, eyes tracing every contour of your face with awe.
The rest of the ride was silent, as you kept your promise to not spoil the surprise, mind filled with various ideas as Eddie finally pulled up to his trailer.
"So... will you tell me the surprise now?" You asked, smile etching on your face as Eddie gave you a breathy laugh.
"Such an impatient baby, huh?" He mocked, nudging your shoulder playfully, his eyes sparkling with mirth.
As you caught up to him, he couldn't help but reach out to brush your hand with his fingertips, a subtle gesture of affection.
When he finally intertwined them, your heart raced, possibilities of whatever the surprise was overwhelming you as your palms grew sweaty with anxiety when you faced the daunting door to Eddie's trailer.
Eddie's fingers gripped the doorknob tightly, with a twist of the key in his hands, the lock mechanism turned, and he pushed the door open, revealing loud chattering coming from the room.
You got startled when Eddie fully opened the door, almost squealing when you saw all of the Hellfire Club squeezed into the living room, your eyes widening at Eddie's surprise.
It was silent before Gareth spoke up, “What kind of a sick joke is this supposed to be?” He chuckled bitterly, Eddie felt hot-blooded again.
“Is this why you defended her during lunch?” He chuckled, and your eyes widened at the revelation—so, that's why Eddie lashed out at lunch.
"Unfuckinbelievable," Gareth scoffed.
Eddie's jaw tightened, the muscles flexing with the strain of suppressing the overwhelming urge to lash out. “What the hell are you doing? Please tell me this is a new joke of yours called ‘I’m fucking the spoiled brat cheerleader to spite the jocks’.” Gareth spoke up, and turned around to Jeff and others for approval, but the rest of the guys just stood silent, he had crossed the line and everyone could sense it.
Your face soured at his comment, and you could feel Eddie’s grip on your hand tightened, he was getting fired up. “Goodbye, Gareth.” Eddie spoke calmly, much to your and everyone else’s surprise. Every movement he made was rigid, calculated, as if trying to contain the tempest of rage threatening to consume him.
Gareth turned to Eddie baffled, “What?” He scoffed, and Eddie gave a breathy chuckle before straightening up to collect himself. “Get out of my house.” Eddie spat with rage inside of him.
“You have a problem with, her, you leave.” You looked up at him softly as you gently squeezed his hand to let him know that it was okay, he didn’t need to make a scene, and he softened with your touch.
“Actually, if you have a problem with Y/N, you’re pretty much dead to me so just like…” He mocked a thinking face, “Evaporate or something, I don’t know.” A sarcastic smirk was plastered onto his lips now.
Everyone stood silent, causing Eddie to huff.
“That’s kind of a general invitation, if you don’t like my girlfriend then… just start heading toward the rectangle with the knob.” A wide smile spread across your face at him calling you 'his girlfriend', you leaned towards him almost, eager to soak in every word.
“Fuck you, Eddie,” Gareth spat out, Eddie rolled his tongue inside of his cheek at the comment, it looked like Gareth wasn't just going to go away silently, and Eddie wasn't sure if he could hold off the storm brewing inside of him if Gareth dared to talk about you again.
“Selling off your friends for a cheer slut—”
THUMP!
The sound that resonated in your ears before Gareth laid on the ground beneath you, it happened all so fast, Eddie's veins pulsating with the surging rage before his fists collided with Gareth's cheek.
Your mouth hung open, words trapped in your throat as your voice failed you in the face of disbelief.
Eddie cowered over him, the rest of the guys standing in shock as they tried to hold him back, they didn't need to, Eddie was done with Gareth.
“I told you to not fuckin' speak about her, was that not clear?” He spat out his words with seething anger. Gareth looked back at him with a groan.
“Then let this be a lesson for you.” He sneered.
It was all blurry, Gareth still groaning and mumbling under his breath as he left without a goodbye, the rest of the guys apologizing as they took care of Gareth, congratulating the two of you before he left to probably get that poor boy some ice.
“Well... I'd say that went pretty well?” A mischievous glint sparkled in his eyes, and you giggled at Eddie's inability to defuse the tension in the room.
“'M so sorry...” You straightened your posture, lifting your head to meet Eddie's soft gaze.
“Are you kidding?” He asked, eyes glinting with admiration.
“I don't care about him,” He scoffed.
“He doesn't fucking get to talk about you like that, and he doesn't deserve to be in my life,” His firm stance and unwavering eye contact were signaling you that he meant every word he was saying, he got sick of Gareth's shit, that's why this had happened, not because of you.
“You have nothing to be sorry about, honey,” He muttered, pressing soft kisses into your hair, he was trying to relieve you of your guilt, telling you that this was all on Gareth.
He leaned slightly forward, subtly closing the distance between you and him. “Now see,” He muttered, “Why can't it just be like this?” He couldn't help but reach out to gently brush a strand of hair away from your face, his touch tender as his fingers ached to touch you.
“Why do other people in the world have to exist, huh?” Every time he spoke to you, his voice took on a softer, almost more mellow tone, as if he was savoring the words to speak to you on his lips.
Your head tilted slightly with a giggle, eager to absorb every word he uttered. Each touch, each gaze you shared, sent an unwavering contentment through his entire being, more than you realized.
2K notes · View notes
Text
invisible string
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~1.1k
Warnings: fluff
Request by anon: this is about to be super self indulgent but could you by any chance do a spencer reid x barista!reader maybe he keeps going back to the same cafe or something and memorizes like little facts about coffee or something lol i love your writing so much!!
Summary: Spencer keeps going back to the same coffee shop not because of the coffee but because of a certain someone that never fails to make him smile.
Square Filled: invisible string by taylor swift for @spencerreidbingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
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“I need a double shot espresso and a strawberry refresher,” you call to your coworkers. You’re working the register when a tall man walks up to the counter. Man, he is super cute. “Hi, what can I get for you?”
“I don’t come here often but I hear you don’t take large cups? What are they called?”
“Venti?”
“Yeah, that,” he chuckles. “What do you recommend?”
“I personally love anything caramel. It gives me enough sugar to counteract the bitterness of the coffee.”
“I’ll do that, then.”
Man, he is clueless but he’s so cute. You’re not sure if this is a bit or if this is who he actually is but you like it.
“What kind of coffee do you want?”
“Hazelnut Americano with caramel drizzle.”
“You got it. Anything else?”
“No.”
“Name?”
“Spencer Reid.”
He pays for his coffee and you start making his order since there is no one else in line. You write his name on the cup and walk to the pickup section and call his name. The way he bounces over to the counter is kind of cute.
“Have a nice day, Spencer,” you grin and hand it to him.
“Thank you. You, too!”
The next day when Spencer comes in, he is more confident. He’s still nervous since he finds you attractive but he’s not going to let that stop him.
“Hey, I remember you. You ordered the hazelnut Americano yesterday,” you smile and greet him. You yawn and cover your mouth. “Sorry. It doesn’t matter how much coffee I drink, I am still tired.”
“Did you know that coffee was discovered by an Ethiopian goat herder?”
“I did not but it makes sense. He needed all that energy to round up all the goats. What’s your name again?”
“Spencer.”
“Yes, that was it. Sorry, I have a terrible memory.”
“I have an eidetic one.”
“What is that?”
“An eidetic memory is the ability to recall an image from memory with high precision—at least for a brief period—after seeing it only once and without using a mnemonic device. I have an IQ of 187 and can read twenty-thousand words a minute.”
“So, you’re really smart?”
“Yes,” he chuckles.
“Okay, come back tomorrow and I’ll have a fact for you.”
“Deal.”
There is a line forming behind him so Spencer quickly orders and leaves just as fast as he came. You have to wait an entire day to see him again and this time, you have a fact lined up for him.
“Hi, Spencer,” you smile. “I think I got a good fact for you today.”
“Let’s hear it.”
“Did you know that ketchup was once sold as a medicine?”
“In the 1830s, it was believed that the condiment could cure almost anything, including indigestion, diarrhea, and even jaundice,” he nods.
“Alright, smarty-pants, I’ll have to try harder tomorrow.”
“I have one for you about coffee. Did you know that bees love the taste of coffee?”
“Is that why they always fly near me when I’m having my morning coffee in my sunroom?”
“It might be.”
Another line is forming so you grab his coffee order and move on with your life. The only thing you’re looking forward to now is Spencer when he comes in. He shows up the next morning at the same time he’s been showing up, and you find yourself smiling because of him.
“Spencer! The usual?”
“Actually, get me your favorite drink.”
“Are you sure? You’re not allergic to anything?”
“Nope.”
“Coming right up.” You ring him up and accept his cash. “I have another fact, and I think it’s a good one. Did you know the Vikings discovered America and not Christopher Columbus?”
“Yes, approximately five hundred years before Christopher Columbus, the Scandinavian explorer Thorvald, brother of Leif Erikson and son of Erik the Red, died in battle in modern-day Newfoundland.”
“Okay, you’re good.”
Spencer blushes at your small compliment. “My head is filled with facts that I can’t seem to forget like coffee beans are actually the seeds from the coffee plant’s berry-like fruits. The coffee plant is a shrub that grows in tropical climates in parts of Africa, Asia, South America and North America. It produces an edible berry-like fruit known as a coffee cherry, which typically contains two coffee beans. These beans are then processed and roasted to create the coffee we know and love.”
“I did not know that.” You really like talking to him but every time he comes in, there is a line forming behind him. You have to move on so you put in his order. You turn to your coworker who barely begins to make his order. “Can you take this? I want to make his cup.”
“Sure, smitten kitten,” she grins.
You grab the empty cup and make your favorite drink for Spencer. When you’re done, you write your number on the side of it in hopes he will use it.
“Spencer?” He walks up to the counter and you smile. “Here you go.”
“Thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“I’ll be here.”
Spencer doesn’t notice your number until he gets to his car. He smiles which makes you smile because that is a good sign that he likes what you did. The next day, he comes in with someone. He hasn’t used your number yet but maybe he’s nervous. The man with the dark skin encourages Spencer to make a move on you, and he pushes him toward you.
“Hi, Spencer,” you smile.
“Hi. This is my friend and coworker, Derek Morgan.”
“Hi, Derek.” You turn to Spencer. “I got one for you. I really think I’ll get you this time. Did you know that in Ancient Egypt, the New Year celebration was called Wepet Renpet?”
“I didn’t know that.”
“Wait, really?” you gasp.
“Are you serious?” Derek asks Spencer at the same time as you.
“I’m sorry, yeah, I did.” You tip your head back and laugh. “While we celebrate New Year’s Day on January 1, the Ancient Egyptian tradition was different every year. Meaning ‘the opener of the year’, Wepet Renpet was a way to mark the annual flooding of the Nile River, which usually happened sometime in July. The Egyptians tracked Sirius, the brightest star in the sky, to time their festivities.”
“You know, one day, I’m gonna get you. I’m gonna know something you don’t.”
“I’ve been barking up that tree for years now,” Derek chuckles. You and Spencer look at him and he nods in understanding. “I’ll go wait over there.”
“What can I get you two?”
“Caramel Macchiato and a Hazelnut Americano.”
“Is that all?”
Spencer looks at Derek who nods in encouragement.
“Would you like to go on a date with me?” he stutters.
He blushes as he talks which is super cute.
“I’d love to.”
“Great. I still have your number. I was nervous about using it but I will now.”
“Don’t wait too long,” you grin.
There is something pulling you and Spencer together, something of an invisible string.
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732 notes · View notes
petitemistletoe · 11 months
Text
Grudges
Pairing: Regulus Black x Reader, Potter!Reader
Warnings: angst!
Word Count: 6.2K+
A/N: Alright listen I am a Lily Evans stan through and through but she does not come across the greatest in this fic
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“Stop biting your nails,” Regulus nudged you lightly. 
“Sorry,” you said sheepishly, “I just hope the first term went well for Celeste. I’ve missed her so much.” You rested your head on Regulus’s shoulder. 
“Celeste sent us about a thousand owls with updates. She’s fine! Plus she’s had Milo with her.” Regulus made a good point. Your daughter, Celeste, had started her first year at Hogwarts at the same time as her cousin Milo.
“Where are Sirius and Remus anyway?” You asked, glancing at your watch, “The train is going to be in any minute now.”
As if on cue, you saw Sirius and Remus running through King’s Cross. Remus was carrying an empty carseat and Sirius was balancing a baby in his arms. They made their way over to your spot on the platform and were breathing heavily. 
“Someone,” Sirius panted, “take the baby so I can have a moment to collapse.”
“Give me my delicious little nephew,” you grinned, taking the baby from Sirius and giving his chubby cheek a little kiss, “how are you Teddy?”
Teddy gurgled in response and wrapped a chubby hand around a strand of your hair. 
“Why exactly are you two so late?” Regulus quirked an eyebrow at his brother. 
“You know how it is, baby stuff.” Remus explained, setting the carseat on the ground and taking Teddy back from you.
“Sirius take too long looking at himself in the mirror?” Regulus chuckled. 
“You laugh but it’s under the shroud of wicked jealousy,” Sirius deadpanned. 
“Can you believe that our kids are first years! It feels like we graduated just yesterday,” you reminisced, threading your arm through Sirius’ and resting your head on his shoulder. 
“They’ll be here any minute now!” Sirius grinned, looking at the wave of students getting off the train. 
“Sirius! It’s your turn, Teddy needs to be changed.” Remus was now holding Teddy at arms length, his nose wrinkled. 
“Oh no,” Sirius peaked at Teddy’s diaper, “Moony this is a two man job. You guys mind waiting for Milo while we fix this?”
“Go for it,” you waved the boys off. You and Regulus were making idle chit chat until a body slammed into you. You looked down and saw the nicely styled brown and black curls and knew it could only have been your nephew.
“Hi Milo,” you said, pressing a kiss to his head. 
“Hey Auntie! Have you seen my dads?” He asked, pulling away and hugging Regulus. 
“They’re in the bathroom changing Teddy. Have you seen my daughter?” You responded. 
“She’s coming. Her and Harry were saying goodbye to Ron and Hermione at the front of the platform.” Milo shrugged. Your blood ran cold. 
“Harry?” You asked. Before Milo could respond you saw Celeste skipping towards you.
“Mum! Dad!” Celeste gave you and Regulus a giant hug. 
“Celeste! I want to hear all about your term,” you said with a giant grin. 
“Sure Mum! I want you to meet one of the greatest friends I made. He’s actually one of Milo’s childhood friends.” Celeste stepped back and revealed Harry standing behind her. Even if you hadn’t recognized the name you would’ve know that Harry was James’s son. Harry was the spitting image of James, save for his eyes. His eyes were the same color as Lily’s. 
“Hi! I’m Harry Potter, it’s nice to meet you Mrs. Black, Mr. Black.” Harry extended his hand to you and Regulus. Regulus had the same gobsmacked expression that you did and he swallowed harshly before saying, 
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Harry. I understand that you and Celeste have become fast friends.” 
“Yes! I’ve known Milo my entire life so he introduced Celeste and I. Milo’s fathers are actually my father’s two closest friends. You might know him, James Potter?” Harry asked. 
“Uh, yes. We were in school at the same time as your father.” Regulus said, diplomatically. 
“Really?” Harry asked. Before you could continue any further Sirius and Remus returned. 
“There’s my godson!” Sirius laughed, wrapping Harry in a tight hug. 
“He hugs Harry before he hugs his own son.” Milo rolled his eyes as he hugged Remus and gave his baby brother a kiss on the forehead. 
“There’s my boy.” Sirius lifted Milo of the ground in a grandiose show of affection. 
“Where are your parents, Harry?” Remus asked. 
“Around here somewhere I’m sure.” Harry scanned through the throng of people. He disappeared off and you felt like you could breathe again. 
“Alright, love, do you have all your things?” You asked Celeste, running a hand over your daughter’s head, “Regulus grab her trunk.”
“Did you make the Christmas fudge mum?” Celeste asked. 
“Three trays of it.” You grinned, pinching Celeste’s cheek. 
“Oh Auntie your fudge is the greatest! Dad can we go over to Celeste’s and have some?” Milo asked Remus. 
“Why not? You know I have a soft spot for chocolate.” Remus laughed as he tried to juggle both the car seat and Milo’s trunk. 
“Give me the baby and give the car seat to Sirius.” You said. Remus went to hand you Teddy but tutted, “Other side, Remus. My shoulder.” You swapped sides and then took Teddy from Remus’ arms and balanced him on your hip. 
You were making your way out of the train station when Harry was running back towards you all, a giant smile on his face.
“Alright Harry?” Celeste asked.
“Yeah, yeah. I wanted to introduce our parents. Mr. And Mrs. Black these are my parents James and Lily Potter.” Harry stepped back to reveal his parents. You felt like the wind had been knocked out of you. 
“James.” You said, cooly. 
“It’s been a while.” James’s tone was as icy as yours. 
“Well we should get going,” Lily said diplomatically. 
“Yes! Yes. Good to see you. Have a happy Christmas!” Regulus pushed Celeste away before the conversation could progress any further. 
Luckily for you all, Celeste forgot all about encounter by the time she got home, had a tin of fudge, and played with her little brother Atlas who had been in private lessons when you all were at the train station. Atlas and Celeste were sleeping peacefully, now, and you were thinking about James as you got in bed next to Regulus. 
“Love?” Regulus shook you from your thoughts. 
“Yes darling?” 
“I was saying that Narcissa called and wants to have tea tomorrow and get all the children together.” Regulus said. 
“Oh, sure Reg.” You nodded.
“Thinking about James?” 
“You know me so well,” you laughed softly, “it just caught me off-guard…seeing him again.” 
“I know. Are you alright?”
“It’s weird, right? Harry and Celeste being friends.” You asked, rubbing your shoulder. 
“Yeah, a good weird though. I think we should consider the possibility of telling them that they are related. They deserve to know and it’ll only be worse if they find it out on their own.” Regulus ran his thumb over your knuckles. 
“I know you’re right.” You went to bed that night with your thoughts spinning impossibly fast in your brain. 
“Oh my God! How can a child so small poop so much?” Remus said in disgust. His entire chest was coated in what had previously been Teddy’s breakfast. Sirius had been walking over to check on Remus, but immediately turned and crept back down the hallway as quietly as he could. “Nice try, Pads! Get back here right now.” 
“How did you know I was in the hall?” Sirius asked with a groan, taking over the diaper change while Remus removed his shirt and scourgified it. 
“Werewolf hearing, obviously.” Remus rolled his eyes. 
“Dads! When are we going to Celeste’s?” Milo asked, peeking his head into the room. 
“We’re going to meet Celeste and Atlas at Aunt Narcissa’s house.” Remus responded. 
“Oh fuck do we have to go to Narcissa’s? It’s so creepy there.” Sirius complained. 
“Really? You aren’t even going to pretend to act like a parent in front of our kid?” Remus rolled his eyes. 
“Aunt Narcissa isn’t so bad,” Milo shrugged, “Draco’s kind of annoying though.”
“Of course he is. He’s the spawn of a Black and a Malfoy.” Sirius rolled his eyes at the thought. 
“Sirius!” Remus was unfortunately not surprised at his husband’s antics. 
“I have a different question.” Milo shook his head, “so you know how Celeste and Atlas are mine and Teddy’s cousins because Dad and Uncle Regulus are brothers?”
“Yeah?” Sirius and Remus weren’t exactly sure where things were going.  
“And you know how you two were best friends with Uncle James and Aunt Lily in school?”
“Yeah…” Now Sirius and Remus had an idea where things were going and they didn’t exactly love it. 
“Why was I never allowed to have Harry and Celeste over at the same time? And why were things so awkward between everyone at the train station when Celeste’s and Harry’s parents met?”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” Remus said quickly. 
“Yep, Milo, you’re crazy.” Sirius nodded.
“Wait a minute,” Milo’s brain was moving quickly now, “isn’t Auntie’s maiden name Potter? But she doesn’t have a brother…is Uncle James her cousin? Are they fighting? Have they been fighting since before any of us were born? But Auntie always talks about how important family is…did Uncle James do something to break their bond? They must’ve been close since they would have been just a year apart at Hogwarts. And you two are still very close with her and Uncle Reg…in fact Dad I remember you said that Auntie was the person that reunited you with Uncle Reg. So it had to be something really specific between Auntie and Uncle James. Aunt Lily’s face was almost as red as her hair and Uncle Regulus was glaring at Uncle James when we were at the train station so I bet it was something about Auntie marrying Uncle Regulus and Uncle James marrying Aunt Lily. But Uncle James and Aunt Lily got married first so it was probably a fight between Auntie and Uncle James about Aunt Lily!” Milo looked very pleased with himself.
“You’re way off, Milo, it wasn’t like that at all.” Remus said weakly.
“How did you do that?” Sirius was looking at his son now like he was dripping in radioactive waste. 
“I knew it!” 
“Okay, Milo, listen you can’t tell Celeste or Harry. This is not our information to share.” Remus was very serious. 
“Of course, Dad. The secret is safe with me!” Milo beamed. 
“Oh my God Ron! How has it taken you this long to cast a communication spell? Fred and George showed it to us like four times before we left for holiday!” Celeste whispered. She was underneath her covers as it was past one in the morning but Milo had sent everyone an owl saying he had an urgent message and needed to talk face to face. 
“It was hard, Cel!” Ron tried to defend himself but Harry was laughing too hard to be heard for anyone else on the call to hear him. 
“Okay, okay. Milo what’s your news?” Hermione asked, shaking her head.
“I just discovered something big! Something about Celeste and Harry.” Milo said excitedly.
“Does it have something to do with how weird our parents were at the train station?” Harry asked. 
“Yes, indeed. Celeste’s mum and Harry’s dad are cousins!” Milo paused to allow the revelation to skin in. 
“No way! Why wouldn’t they tell us?” Celeste gasped. 
“Apparently they had a really bad falling out and I think it’s because Celeste’s mum and Harry’s mum hate each other!”
“Why would they hate each other?” Hermione asked. 
“No idea. But you two are going to have to find out.” Milo grinned. 
“So mum,” Celeste asked after you all returned from the Malfoys, “I have a question for you.”
“Sure, love. Did you want any more fudge?” You asked, taking out a tray and cutting off a few pieces. 
“Thanks mum!” Celeste took the plate from you.
“Hey Atlas! Do you want any fudge?”
“Yes yes yes!” Your eight year old came running into the kitchen. Atlas looked just like Regulus, dark curls and bright green eyes. Celeste looked more like a potter…more like James, in fact: tanned skin, warm brown eyes, easy smile. Celeste and Harry had looked like twins at the train station. It filled you with an uncomfortable heartache.
“Giving the kids more sugar?” Regulus quipped, helping push Atlas’s chair closer to the table. 
“It’s Christmas.” You smiled, “there’s a fresh batch of egg nog in the fridge from this morning if you’d like to join me in a glass.”
“Read my mind, Mrs. Black.” Regulus poured you and him two glasses and you sat at the able with your kids. 
“So Celeste, you said you had a question for me?” You asked, leaning back so you were resting against Regulus’s shoulder. 
“Are you and Harry’s dad cousins?” Celeste asked. Your back went rigid as Regulus sputtered and choked on his eggnog.
“Why…where did you hear that?” You asked. 
“Milo.”
“I’m going to kill Sirius.” Regulus shook his head.
“The truth is, yes, James and I are cousins.” 
“Did you have a falling out because you hate Harry’s mum?” 
“Oh my god,” Regulus rubbed his temples.
“Who’s Harry?” Atlas asked.
“I do not hate Harry’s mum.” You sighed, “James and I are just not as close as we used to be.”
“You know what,” Regulus stood, “we’re going to Sirius and Remus’s. We can let them explain everything since they felt so strongly about sharing it in the first place.”
“Good idea.” You hoisted Atlas onto your hip, even though he was far too big for it now and apparated as Regulus grabbed firmly onto Celeste’s wrist to apparate them both. You were standing in Sirius and Remus’s living room and you set Atlas down as Sirius entered the room with a blanket and a bowl of popcorn. 
“Oh fuck,” Sirius tried to turn on his heel but you grabbed him by the back of the shirt. 
“You’ve got a big mouth, Black.” You shoved Sirius down on the couch. 
“Moony! Milo! Can you come in here please?” Sirius called as Regulus and Celeste apparated into the room. 
“What’s up, Pads?” Remus entered the room, Milo right behind him.
“Hey Auntie,” Milo said shyly, sitting between his fathers on the couch. 
“Milo, when we speak to you do you hear words or is it just the Charlie Brown whomp sound?” Remus said with a sigh.
“Sorry,” Milo shrugged. 
“We’ll deal with you later. Take your cousins up to your room while your aunt tears me a new asshole.” Sirius sent Milo, Atlas, and Celeste out and then cast a silencing spell over the living room for good measure. 
“What the hell is wrong with you!” You said, slapping Sirius on the chest and arms after each word for emphasis. 
“Milo guessed it! It was really only a manner of time considering your behavior at Kings Cross.” Remus said with a sigh.
“You’re right.” You flopped on the couch next to Remus and put your head in your hands. Regulus sat down next to you and rubbed your back. 
“Do you think it might be time for you and James to reconcile? It’s been ten years since you two last spoke.” Remus asked.
“I don’t know. I’ve been carrying this resentment so long I might feel lonely without it.” You said with a weak chuckle. There was a loud crack in the air and James, Lily, and Harry were standing in the living room. 
“Sirius!” James roared, “I’m going to kill you!”
“Milo has another parent! Why do target me?” Sirius threw his hands in the air. 
“Kids are upstairs, Harry. Why don’t you join them while we talk?” Remus sent Harry upstairs. 
“I think we should have a conversation about how we’d like to proceed. Celeste and Harry are closer than ever and I don’t think any of us have been very fair.” Regulus said with a deep sigh. 
“James!” You said in a sing-song voice as you set your book down and settled down on the blanket that James had spread in front of the lake. James, Sirius, and Remus had been taking advantage of the nice day and were studying outside by the Black Lake. 
“What is it?” James was pretending to be exasperated but he couldn’t hide his smile. He always had a soft spot for his baby cousin. 
“I need your potions notes. We’re brewing liquid luck and Slughorn assigned me a terrible partner.” You said with a sigh. 
“Who’d he assign you?” Sirius asked. 
“Your little brother,” you said with an eyeroll.
“Come on,” Remus exhaled lazily, handing you a joint that he’d lit a few moments before, “as far as Slytherins go, Regulus is pretty good at potions.”
“Yeah, yeah he’s a potions wiz. I don’t need him mansplaining potions to me so I need to read up on liquid luck and show his ass up.” You said before taking a long drag of the joint, “This is really good, Remus.”
“Thanks, I did get an O in herbology.” Remus laughed. 
“Here,” James was forever organized and was able to locate his notes from last year rather quickly, “use them wisely.” 
“Hey Prongs did you tell the young Miss Potter your news?” Sirius asked, taking the joint from you.
“No! What’s your news, Jamie?” You poked James in the ribs playfully. 
“Now that Lily and I have been dating for a few months now, I’d like for you two to officially meet.” James said with a grin. Your stomach turned unpleasantly. You had only ever seen Lily in passing, considering you were in Slytherin and a year younger than the Marauders. You hadn’t liked how James had pined after Lily considering she did not make it a secret how she despised him. Sure, James was a bit immature sometimes but he had the biggest heart of anyone you knew. You swallowed all that down and grinned, 
“Can’t wait. When are we going to meet?”
“Why don’t you come to the Gryffindor common room tomorrow night?”
“Sounds like a plan.” You grinned. You had to leave the warm sun and your friends an hour later to meet with Regulus to start the potions work. You didn’t care for Regulus. Being a close friend of Sirius meant that Regulus was naturally more haughty towards you and you thought he could be unnecessarily cruel whenever he was around Barty Crouch Jr. To you had been less than pleased when Slughorn had paired you together would be an understatement. 
You found him sitting at a table in the corner of the library, bent over a book. 
“Hello Regulus,” you said, sitting down next to him. 
“Hi. I thought we could start with raiding the greenhouses to find some horseradish. The first step of brewing Felix Felicis is to mix ashwinder eggs and horseradish.” Regulus said. 
“I think it’d be better actually to substitute wasabi for horseradish. Apparently it makes the potion more potent.” You said, setting James’ notes out in front of you.
“These notes are brilliant,” Regulus snatched up the page and studied it. 
“Thanks, they’re my cousin’s.” You shrugged. You worked for a while with Regulus before walking together back to the Slytherin dorms. 
“You know…it’s funny.” Regulus said with a small shake of his curls. 
“What is?”
“You and I both have close family in Gryffindor. The Gryffindor/Slytherin mix isn’t super common.” Regulus said. 
“Yeah I guess you’re right.”
“We’re not so different are we?” 
“I’m nothing like you, Regulus. I’m not cruel.” You crossed your arms. You were at your door now and weren’t entirely sure why Regulus had walked you all the way up to the girls dorms. 
“The Felix Felicis takes six months to brew. I bet you’ll be under me by then.” Regulus said with a confident laugh.
“In your dreams, Black.” You said with an eyeroll. You entered your room and huffed but had to admit it was a bit hard to hide your smile. 
You were nervous as you ascended the steps up to the Gryffindor common room. You didn’t know what it was exactly but you weren’t looking forward to meeting Lily. You shook the thoughts from your brain as Sirius let you into the common room. 
“Remus!” You said with a grin, jumping into Remus’s lap and accepting the joint from him. Lily was perched on James’ lap and she was grinding down on him as they made out like their lives depended on it. 
“Break it up, love birds, you have company.” Sirius said, slapping James upside the head on his way back to the couches. 
“Sorry,” James said, sheepishly, setting Lily down next to him. James introduced you two. 
“Lily, it’s great to finally meet you. The guys talk about you all the time.” You said with a smile.
“Ditto! James always says you’re one of the most important people in his life.” Lily grinned. 
“Yeah. James and I are both only children so we really felt more like siblings than cousins.”
“Are you the first Potter in Slytherin?” Lily asked. It was an innocent enough question, Lily could not have known that it had been a sore subject in your family. You were the first Potter in Slytherin. No Potter had been in a house that was not in Gryffindor for over one thousand years. It had been a shock to your family. 
“Uh, yes I am.” You tried to hide your discomfort over the question. 
“Oh. Good for you.”
“And you’re a muggle born, right?”
“Yes.” Lily’s eyes flashed dangerously. 
“Good for you.” You responded. The rest of the night passed rather quickly and then James walked you back to the Slytherin dorms. 
“So?” He asked excitedly.
“So what?” 
“So what did you think of Lily? She’s great, isn’t she?” James was beaming.
“She’s something.” You pursed your lips. 
“What do you mean?”
“I hate her.” You said with a head shake. James was shocked. He tried to get more out of you, but you told him you were tired and went to bed. James felt like his brain was in shambles as he made his way back to the Gryffindor common room. Only Lily was left, reading a book by the fire. 
“Hey love,” James sat down next to her and pressed a kiss to her forehead. 
“Hi James. Have a good walk?” She asked. 
“Yeah, yeah. You liked my cousin, right?”
“Your cousin?” Lily said nervously, “Yeah! She’s quite spirited.” 
“Oh my god you hate her, don’t you?” James’s heart felt like it had dropped into his ass.
“I do!” Lily groaned, “But honestly I barely know her. We’ll get together more and more and hopefully we’ll become good friends. It’s clear to me that we both care about you a lot and want the best for you.” Lily said. James could only shrug. 
As Lily and James became closer and closer, you started spending less and less time in the Gryffindor common room. You also became closer to Regulus as you continued working on your potions project together. You were finally able to meet Regulus for your final potion check before you submit it as a final to Slughorn. As you made your way down you ran into James. 
“Hey! I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever. I miss you.” James said, slinging an arm over your shoulders. 
“I know! It’s just been so busy with classes and finals but I’m about to submit my potions final so that’ll be a huge weight off my shoulders.” You said with a grin. 
“We’re going to the Three Broomsticks tonight, why don’t you meet us there? Celebrate the end of potions for the year” James said, “We’ll get properly pissed.”
“That sounds great. Who all is going?” You asked. 
“The whole gang! Remus, Sirius, Mary, Marlene, Lily.”
“Lily?” You faltered. 
“I know you aren’t her biggest fan but I promise it’ll be fun.” James begged.
“Alright! I’ll see you later then. Have a butterbeer waiting for me.” You called as James reascended the steps. He sent you thumbs up before disappearing around the corner. You walked into the potions classroom and saw Slughorn was peering over your cauldron as Regulus explained away. 
“Ah Ms. Potter, nice of you to join us. I was just about to review your potion. I believe you and Mr. Black were assigned Felix Felicis.”
“Yes sir, we were.” You nodded. 
“As I was saying,” Regulus said with a quick nod in your direction, “we decided to add wasabi instead of horseradish to the potion in order to increase its potency. 
“Very smart.” Slughorn nodded. He mulled over the potion for a full two minutes before nodding. “Outstanding work you two. I knew great things would come from the two of you. Your reward is that you are able to keep the potion. I’m sure you both understand, however, that use of the potion during a Quidditch match is strictly illegal.” 
“We understand, professor.” Regulus nodded. Professor Slughorn stalked out of the room. You and Regulus hugged tightly. 
“We did it! Do you want the potion? I don’t have any use for it.” You said with a shrug.
“Yeah.” Regulus nodded. He uncorked the vial and swallowed it down.
“What are you doing?” You raised your eyebrow and looked at him.
��I needed it for what I’m about to do.” Regulus said. Before you could ask him what he was talking about, Regulus grabbed you by the waist and kissed you hard. You were surprised at first but then you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him back.
“Oh wow.” You said when you broke apart. 
“Will you go out with me?” Regulus asked, brushing his curls out of his face. 
“Yeah. Do you want to go to the Three Broomsticks with me?” You asked. 
“Yeah I do.” Regulus grinned. 
The two of you walked hand in hand to Hogsmeade. It seemed that the Gryffindors had started without you and the group was very, very drunk. Lily was perched in James’s lap again and you tried not to roll your eyes.
“What are you two doing here?” Sirius asked, slurring his words a bit, “I mean…what are you two doing here together?”
“We’re friends, Sirius.” You rolled your eyes. You and Regulus were able to catch up to the rest of the crowd quickly. 
“More than that.” Regulus laughed and slung his arm over your shoulders. 
“Really?” James narrowed his eyes. 
“Why not?” You snuggled yourself deeper into Regulus’s arms. 
“He’s a Slytherin. He’s dangerous.” James snapped at you.
“I’m a Slytherin.” You bit the inside of your cheek harshly. 
“So you finally made your way over to dark wizards? Guess you really are a Slytherin.” Lily giggled. 
“And you’ve proven that you can live up to the stereotype of annoying muggleborns.” You shot back. 
“Stop it.” James frowned but it was too late. The storm between you and Lily had been brewing for six months and there was no stopping it now.
“You know what James, I can’t do this anymore. It’s her or me.” Lily crossed her arms over her chest. 
“Oh come on! Like James is going to pick some girl he’s been dating for less than a year over his cousin.” You rolled your eyes.
“Don’t do this. You both are being unfair.” James said. 
“James didn’t tell you? After we graduate, we’re moving in together.” Lily spat at you.
“Make your choice James.” You said coldly. 
“No.” James shook his head.
“Fine,” you said, standing and grabbing Regulus’s hand, “I’ll make it for you. Goodbye.” And you stormed off. 
There was quite a bit of electricity in the air during the Quidditch final. It was already charged, being a competition between Gryffindor and Slytherin. You and Regulus were both playing as chaser and seeker respectively. This was an important match for you, you were being scouted by four different professional Quidditch teams and the representatives were all in the stands. You still had a year of Hogwarts left after this one but the teams were ready to make an offer that would work around your school schedule. 
You couldn’t think about that right now, though. You wanted to stomp Gryffindor into the dirt. Your blood was pulsating in your ears as Madame Hooch blew the whistle to signify the start of the match.
The match was vicious, with you and James diving at each other and playing dirtier than you ever had to before. You were flying next to James and you shoulder checked him rougher than you should’ve. James nearly fell off his broom but he was able to swing all the way around and restabilize. 
“That was a cheap shot!” James spat at you.
“Guess I’m just a lousy Slytherin.” You spat back. “At least I’m not wrapped around the finger of a witch with a stick up her ass.”
That was too far, you knew it, but you were too upset to care. James yanked at the back of your broom just as a bludger rammed itself into your chest. You fell hard and Madame Hooch had been too enraptured in a squabble between the Sirius and the Slytherin beaters to notice what was happening until it was too late. You hit the ground hard and heard a sickening crunch sound as your arm was wrenched awkwardly behind your back. You groaned as Madame Hooch started running towards you and blowing her whistle wildly. Before she reached you, though, your broom did and it embedded itself in your shoulder. You were screaming so loud your throat was raw. You tried to grab at your broom with your other hand but realized that the broom had impaled the fleshy part of your shoulder and was anchoring you to the ground. 
“Oh my God,” Madame Hooch gasped as she made her way towards you. Madame Pomfrey was hot on her heels and she knelt down next to you. Regulus made his way down to you next. He dropped to his knees next to you and grabbed at your hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. Then Sirius landed. He took one look at you and promptly vomited into the grass. James was there next, his face paler than it had ever been. 
“Alright love, I’m going to move you over to the hospital wing where I’ll give you a sedative and assess the damage.” Madame Pomfrey said. You wished that Madame Pomfrey had given you the sedative before she moved you. You had never and would never again experience such pain. Not when you gave birth, not when you had been a victim of cruciatus  curse, not ever. Madame Pomfrey had to move you again to St. Mungos and a team of healers were put together to remove your broom from your shoulder and patch you up. 
When you were finally stable again, the doctor who had been presiding over your case made his way to your bedside. Your parents and Regulus had been by your side for the entire four day period. 
“It will take time for your shoulder to heal. It faced an unbelievable trauma and even after much physical therapy, rigorous potion taking, and rehabilitation your shoulder will never reach its full, working capacity.” 
“So I’ll never play Quidditch again.” You said bitterly.
“Oh darling let’s just be happy that you’re okay.” Your mother tried but you shook your head. 
“I’m so sorry, Ms. Potter, but no. Playing professionally will not be possible.” The doctor bowed his head. 
You refused James’s visits for the next two weeks until you were able to be discharged from the hospital. You were home, laying on your bed and staring at the ceiling. You wanted to rip down your Quidditch posters but you couldn’t extend your arm that far up yet. You were forced to just glare up at them. 
“Hey, can I come in?” James asked, knocking on your open door. You looked at him and turned back to stare at the ceiling. “You have no idea how sorry I am. I have never felt more terrible in my entire life. I thought you were going to die,” James had tears in his eyes, “and it would have been all my fault. All over something so stupid. But I’m glad that you’re alive. But I am so so sorry that I cost you your career. If I could go back and erase it, I would.” 
“I don’t ever want to see you again.” You said softly and stared at the ceiling until James left the room. 
You and James did not speak for four years. He got married and you got married and it was bizarre. All of a sudden you were no longer speaking to your best friend. Good things came out of the situation, though. You and Regulus got married and had a baby. Regulus and Sirius repaired their relationship and Sirius and Remus married and had a baby as well. You and Reg had Sirius and Remus over often, watching the newly one year olds play together. 
“I still can’t believe that you named her Celeste.” Sirius shook his head. 
“Why? You don’t like the name?” You asked with a soft laugh.
“I just can’t believe you stuck with the celestial theme.” Sirius rolled his eyes. Regulus laughed too.
“It wasn’t even my idea,” Regulus laughed, “my darling bride thought of it. She wanted Celeste for a girl and Atlas for a boy.”
“You really are a Slytherin.” Sirius laughed and gave you a kiss on the cheek before scooping Milo up.
“We should get home and give Milo a bath before bed. I don’t know why people think that having babies is hard. Milo’s a dream.” Sirius shrugged. He apparated out. Remus was about to follow when he turned to you.
“What is it Remus?” Regulus asked. 
“I know you don’t want to hear it, but James and Lily are in a rough place. James might try to reach back out to you.” Remus said. 
“I’m not interested in that.” You said, looking down at your lap. 
“I know. Just thought I would give you a heads up.” Remus said with a smile before apparating out.
“Celeste still has so much energy. Should we let her play for a little longer before bed?” Regulus asked, settling into the couch. 
“Yeah, why not.” You shrugged. You and Regulus chatted idly for a bit longer before you heard a knock at the door. 
“Think that’s Sirius forgetting something?” Regulus asked. You stood up and headed for the door, 
“Doubt it. When has Sirius ever knocked?” You laughed. You opened the door and your jaw dropped in shock when you saw James at your doorstep, Harry on his hip.
“Hey.” James said softly.
“James. What are you doing here?” You asked. 
“Who is it?” Regulus called from the couch. 
“Uh, it’s James.” You responded. 
“I’m sorry,” Regulus walked up over to where you were, “I thought you said James but I must have mis-” Regulus went silent. 
“What are you doing here?” You asked. 
“I, uh, I wanted to see you. I wanted to talk about things.” James said, bouncing Harry on his hip a few times. 
“Why don’t you come in,” Regulus stepped back to let James in. He lead James into the sitting room where Celeste was sitting on the ground and playing with her toys. 
“Thanks, Regulus.” James said as he entered. 
“Why don’t you let Harry play with Celeste?” Regulus offered. James set Harry down next to Celeste. “I’ll go make some tea.” Regulus left you and James sitting on the couch in awkward silence. 
“Harry looks like you.” You said softly.
“Yeah, yeah he does. Celeste looks like you.”
“Seems like they were fast friends.” You said. Harry and Celeste were curled up, yawning and grabbing at each other’s feet. 
“That’s good. It’s good for cousins to be close.” James said. 
“I heard things between you and Lily are rough right now.” 
“It’s just a rough patch. But I’m sorry about the way things happened. I want Harry to have his cousin in his life. I want my cousin in my life.” James was nervous, you could tell. 
“I don’t know if it’s fair to set up Celeste for that kind of heartbreak. Wouldn’t want the kids to get close only to have Harry abandon Celeste for some girl and then nearly kill her.”
“That’s not fair,” Regulus said, setting down the tray with the tea.
“I don’t have to be fair. James cost me everything.” You said, your jaw set. 
“I want to start over. Please. I love you, I miss you.” James begged. 
“Then why did you choose Lily?” Emotion was cracking through your cold exterior. 
“I didn’t!” “You did! I’m your family! You never should’ve chosen her over me.” You said, rising from your seat. 
“You never should’ve made me choose!” James screamed back. 
“Maybe we should revisit this later when everyone has had a chance to calm down.” Regulus stood between you and James now.
“No. I think you’ve made it very clear. Sorry I tried.” James scooped up Harry and left, slamming the door shut behind him. 
“No, we haven’t been fair.” You said, “But I’d like an apology.”
“I’m sorry! I’m so so sorry for everything I did to you.” James gushed, grabbing your hand. 
“Not from you,” you shook your head, “from Lily.”
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thelaisydazy · 2 months
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Firefighter!Simon Riley x Reader - Second Date
Was this chapter an excuse to also write biker!Simon? Maybe..
You stand by the counter of the bakery, cleaning the counter nervously as you wait. It was early, 5AM, and you were exhausted. You'd been up all night following a date with Simon. The two of you had just talked, more than you ever had previously. He’d even opened up and showed you his face. 
A bark from the front door makes you look up. Simon is standing there with Riley. You can’t stop yourself from smiling at him. You hurry over, unlocking the door for him. 
“Good morning!” you chirp, suddenly no longer tired. 
Simon smiles down at you, his brown eyes soft as they crinkle behind his mask. “S’morning,” he says. “Y’look good.” His compliment turns your cheeks pink. 
“Ah! Thank you! So do you,” you say, stepping back so he and Riley could enter. “I was thinking, there’s a break room. Maybe we could eat breakfast back there.”
Simon’s expression turns to surprise. “Is that alright?” he asks. “Shouldn’t you be up front here?”
You quickly wave off his concern. “It’s alright,” you say. “The bakery doesn’t open for a little while yet anyway. Besides, the bakers can always wrap up orders if I’m not up here for a few minutes.” You point him towards the open door behind the counter. “I’ll grab us something and be right there.”
Simon nods and walks to the breakroom, settling himself into one of the too-small folding chairs. You appear a few moments later with a pair of croissants and a couple dog treats. You close the breakroom door behind you and sit across from Simon. He only hesitates for a moment before taking off his mask and eating.
“I had a really good time yesterday,” you say. “I was wondering if maybe you’d like to do that again sometime.”
“Yes,” Simon answers, far quicker than he’d meant to, making you giggle. 
“I guess you had fun too then,” you tease. “Did you want to get coffee again? Or should we do something else?”
Simon is quiet for a moment. “How do you feel about motorbikes?” he asks. 
“I’ve never been on one,” you say. “I didn’t know you rode one.” 
“On occasion,” he says. “We could take a ride up the mountain to see the sunset. If you want to.”
You watch him. You’d always thought Simon was the serious and confident type, but he was just as unsure of himself as you were of yourself. It made him far more human in your eyes. 
“I’d love to,” you say smiling, watching the way the tension in his shoulders melt. “Are you free tonight? We can meet up after I get off.”
“I’ll talk to the chief,” Simon says.
---
A few hours later, you’re locking up the bakery door. Behind you there’s a great rumbling of an engine. You turn to see a massive man on the back of a motorcycle, his helmet obscuring his face. 
“Simon?” you call out over the roar of the bike. He’s not dressed in the usual jeans and t-shirt you’re used to. Instead he’s in a black leather jacket and pants. His helmet matches his mask, a skull printed over the front of it and a pair of leather gloves with skeleton fingers on the backs. He flips the visor on the helmet up, letting you see his eyes as he reaches back and holds out another helmet for you. 
You hurry over and he helps you put the helmet on then onto the back of the motorbike. 
“Hold on tight Little Bird,” he chuckles, giving you a moment to wrap your arms around his waist before he takes off. 
At first it’s a little startling to watch the street fly past you without the safety of a car around you, but Simon knows what he’s doing as he expertly speeds out of town and towards the forested mountain. 
The ride is peaceful once you get out of town, only a couple cars passing you as they travel off the mountain. Simon drives the two of you up the mountain, glancing over his shoulder now and again to make sure you’re alright. You finally come to a stop at a little picnic area. Simon parks the bike and helps you down before hopping off himself. 
By now the sun is just starting to set. It’s colder up on the mountain, making you shiver for only a moment before Simon’s jacket is wrapped around your shoulders. Your face feels hot as you mumble a thank you. The two of you sit on a bench to watch the sunset, Simon’s arm wrapped around your shoulder, holding you close. 
“It’s beautiful out here..” you whisper. 
“You are…”
You turn quickly to look at him only to find his face just a few inches from your own, so close. He breathes your name. 
“Can I..”
“Yes..”
Simon pulls his mask down and his lips meet yours. They’re as soft as the kiss is. Gentle and wanting and all too short. Your heart is pounding and your head is spinning before you notice him standing. 
“I should get you home,” he says, pulling his helmet back on. 
--------------------------------------------
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notafunkiller · 10 months
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you were mine just yesterday - co-written with @marvelouslizzie
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Summary: It's been a while since your break up with Bucky happened, but you're still not over him. You try to move on, go out, and have fun with your friend, Steve, but you end up in the same bar you two went to often. It also just happens that Bucky is there too, with Natasha by his side. It doesn't take long for you two to end up getting into old habits.
Pairing: exes!Bucky Barnes x female reader
Word count: 10.7K
Warnings: 18+, second chance romance, teasing, dirty talk and pet names, language, jealousy, fingering, nipples play, oral séx (the reader receiving), choking, clit play, metal arm, no condom (but they are both clean and the reader is on birth control), aftercare, alcohol (but she is not even tipsy), death mention, no mention of y/n.
Bucky Barnes Masterlist
Please, do not repost or translate without my permission! I really hope you’ll enjoy it, I can’t wait to read what you think.
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The screams he hears when he opens the door and holds it so Natasha can get inside first already make him regret agreeing to this. He absolutely hates crowded places, but at the same time the food is great here, and it's literally one street away from his apartment, he can suck it up a little.
“Come on, I'm starving.”
Bucky looks around, trying to spot anything and anyone that could be suspicious, but everything seems fine.
“You can't relax even for a second, can you?”
He rolls his eyes, but right before he can comment something sarcastic in return, he hears it... your laugh, followed by a strong smell of cherries, and he immediately looks toward the bar. There you are: dressed in a lovely shirt and your favorite pair of pants, with a huge smile on your face. You look out of this world but you aren't alone, no. His stomach aches at the sight of you sharing drinks with his fucking best friend as if nothing else matters.
“Bucky?” Natasha's voice isn't enough to make him tear his eyes off you. “Hey! You said you're starving.”
“What the fuck is this?”
Bucky’s voice doesn’t go unheard by Steve.
“Oh shit,” he mumbles. “Bucky is here with Natasha.”
The moment you hear Natasha’s name you feel like someone punched you in the guts. You instantly start looking around and it doesn’t take long until you finally see them together, standing there and looking for a place. Bucky with Natasha… Why doesn’t that surprise you? A better question: Why does it hurt that much to hear it? You should have expected this.
“We should go and say hi. They're staring.”
“Is this a fucking joke?” Bucky finally looks at Natasha with a deep frown. “Did you know this?”
“Know what?”
He finds it hard to speak as if something was stuck in his throat. “About... them.”
“I didn’t know they would be here.”
Bucky seems like he doesn’t know what to do. He's trying his best not to have a breakdown right then, because how could this happen to him?
“Maybe we should leave,” you say to Steve, feeling uncomfortable already. You are in no mood to watch Bucky and Natasha together. But when you make a move to stand up, Steve gently touches your hand to stop you.
“You can’t run away from him forever.” He’s right. You can’t. You don’t feel like facing them today, but you shouldn’t be the one running either. You slowly sit back down, feeling grateful that you aren’t alone.
“Can you suck it up a little, Barnes? I won’t act like I didn’t see them just because you can’t face your ex, who, by the way, is still our friend.” Natasha rolls her eyes at him, hiding her smirk and starts to walk toward the bar. “Plus, they look like they’re having fun.”
You notice Steve smiling, but you have no idea why. When you see Natasha coming toward you and Bucky following her like a puppy, you understand and try to fake a smile, too, before taking a big sip from your drink.
“Hi. What a coincidence, nice to see you here.” Natasha leans in to kiss Steve on the cheek, then you after you let the glass on the table.
“Hi,” you force the word out of your mouth as nicely as you can. It’s not that you dislike Natasha. On the contrary, you find her a smart, well-traveled, obviously, woman. You liked her opinions in most of the conversations you had, but it doesn’t mean you aren’t jealous of her when she’s around Bucky because of the same reasons.
“So nice to see you, Natasha.” Steve keeps the conversation going. “Bucky!” He tilts his head just a little to see him behind Natasha.
You don't dare to look, though. Your hands are already sweating. Seeing him so close would make your state even worse.
“Steve.” You close your eyes instinctively at the sound of his voice, but you open them when he mentions your name too.
“Hi.”
“What are you having? This looks sooo tasty.” Natasha has always been good at making conversation regardless of her feelings, and you never wished more than then to be like that too.
“Oh.” Steve casually stirs his drink with the cocktail pick. “It’s a cherry cocktail but it’s not on the menu.”
“Of course.” Bucky steps aside from behind Natasha and comes closer to you with a serious, unreadable expression. “The famous cherry cocktail.” His tone is dripping in sarcasm as he leans in and, without any warning, he takes Steve's glass and downs it in three seconds. “Less flavor than usual.”
You don't realize the death glare you're giving Bucky until you feel Steve's hand on your skin, probably trying to calm you down. You can’t believe his audacity. This is the man who broke your heart and left you and he thinks he can just come here and act like this? Hell no!
Bucky's eyes fall to your arm and leans in again, placing the empty glass down and taking two cherries from the cherries glass.
“It’s fine,” Steve says in a way that is extra calm.
“Yeah, it is fine.” You find yourself agreeing immediately. “I can get them to make you a better one.”
“Well, I am curious now.” Natasha gives you a warm smile. “Or do we interrupt something?”
“I can order you one, as well, if you want.” You offer with a fake smile on your face, ignoring her implication. You can feel Bucky’s gaze on you even though you aren’t looking in his direction.
“No need. Come on, Nat. I’m starving.”
Nat…
“You sure?” You are only looking at Natasha and ignoring Bucky. “I can talk to the bartender and he can bring you the cocktail. He’s a good friend, he wouldn’t mind.”
Bucky puffs, shaking his head.
“You okay, Buck?” Steve can't help but ask.
“Yeah, are you okay?” You try to look as casual as possible.
“If I weren't, would you offer me a drink made by your good friend, too?” His eyes and voice don't tell you much. He asks you this in the most casual way possible. Even Natasha looks surprised.
“I think you need something stronger.” Your eyes are wandering to Natasha for a second. “Since you already tried it and didn’t like the cherry cocktail that much.”
He shrugs, not denying what you said despite it being a huge lie. Then he smirks and looks at Natasha and Steve. “I assume you don't mind us joining you, right? I'm starving.”
Of course he doesn’t ask you. He knows your answer and still decides to do this. Okay, if that’s what he wants…
Steve turns his head to you, asking you indirectly if this is okay, and you nod, trying not to look affected. Especially when he sits next to you with Natasha on his left.
You instinctively move away from him and closer to Steve.
Bucky starts to take off his jacket as he speaks. “I'm not gonna eat you, you know?”
“Hmm?” You give him a look.
“I'm not into human meat, don't worry.” He takes off his gloves. Your eyes immediately fall to his hands and you feel the sadness spread inside you. It’s so overwhelming to be around him, yet you don’t want to give him the pleasure of seeing how hard this is for you.
“I’m aware. I’m just more comfortable like this.” You reach for your drink and take a sip, turning your attention to Steve. “Should I order a new one for you or would you rather drink something else?”
Bucky puffs. “He can order for himself. He is over 100 years old, doll.”
You ignore Bucky’s comment and look over to Natasha. “Do you wanna try the cocktail, Natasha?”
She hesitates, looking at you and at Bucky, and you try not to roll your eyes.
“Do you have any suggestions with strawberries? I love strawberries.” She points to Steve. "He does, too."
 “I’m more of a cherry girl, but we can ask my friend. I’m sure he has some good suggestions.”
“Such a close friend”
“Yeah.” You ignore Bucky and raise your hand. The bartender gives you a smile before coming closer.
“Hey. Is everything alright?”
“Everything is fantastic. I just need another one of these.” You raise your nearly empty glass. “And Natasha wants to ask for your recommendations for a drink with strawberries.” You point at her while saying her name.
He gives a few options and both Steve and her agree on one.
“What about you?”
Bucky looks at him bored. “A burger: chicken, extra pickles, please.”
“Any drinks?”
“Your cheapest beer will do.” You respond instead of Bucky, and he immediately gives you a questioning look and lifts his eyebrow. But he doesn’t seem to care, and the bartender just nods and leaves.
 “So,” Natasha starts. “For how long have you two been hanging out?”
Steve looks at Bucky. “We never stopped hanging out.”
“Why would you?” Natasha winks at you, and Bucky feels he is going crazy. Many images of you and Steve laughing, walking together, even kissing take over his mind.
“Exactly.” You smile in response.
“What about you two?” Steve asks with a mischievous smile on his face.
“What about us?” Bucky asks immediately, giving Steve a hard look. “Do you want to gossip with the ladies present?”
 “That never stopped you before.” You didn’t intend to say it out loud, but it’s already out there.
Bucky's head instantly turns to you. “What?”
“I said that never stopped you before.” It’s too late to back out so you decide to go for it. Bucky usually doesn’t care who is around. He says what he wants to say when he wants to say it. So your presence shouldn’t stop him.
“I heard you the first time. I was waiting for additional explanation.”
“Oh, good. I thought your hearing was getting worse for a sec.” You just look into his eyes. “You always say what you wanna say. So why would us being present stop you now?”
“My senses are perfect, thank you for your concern. Natasha and I are hanging out, too, obviously.”
Your bartender comes back with the drinks and that stops the conversation. He puts your drinks by one by, saving Bucky’s beer for the last.
“We’re out of our cheapest one so I brought the second cheapest. I hope that’s okay.”
 “I'll survive,” Bucky murmurs.
“Your burger is coming up in five minutes.” And with that remark, he leaves you four alone.
“This tastes amazing,” Steve smiles, squeezing your hand, and Natasha immediately agrees.
“Yeah.”
“Glad you like it.”
“Want to try it, Bucky?” She asks him with an innocent smile, which makes your blood boil.
Bucky shakes his head and drinks from his bottle. “Ah, this tastes too expensive.”
“You’ll survive,” you whisper, imitating his tone.
“Oh, I will.” He gives you the most charming smile you've seen in a while and takes your glass to take a sip.
“Will you stop drinking other people’s drinks without asking them?” You can’t hide how done you are with his entitled ass.
 “You'll survive, I'm sure.” He mocks you without a care in the world. You can feel the tension increasing, but you have no idea what to do. You can’t control your reactions, and he keeps pushing you.
“Oh, I will, but…” You move closer to him just a little. “If you need… you know… some help you can have a drink on me.”
 “Hmm.” He chuckles and moves closer, too immediately catching on to what you meant. “Don't worry about it, I am sure Nat would cover me.”
“I am sure she would.” You smile back, fighting the urge to roll your eyes and break the glass into tiny pieces, so you just put your drink in front of him. No way you are gonna keep drinking that.
“Hey, Adam!” The bartender looks at you from a bit far away. “Same drink, please.” He winks first and then nods.
Bucky frowns and downs the drink, trying to look unaffected. “You had no problems sharing drinks with me before.”
“Now I’m more careful about what I put into my body.”
Steve tries to mask his laugh by fake coughing, but you notice anyway. So Bucky must do it, too.
“I can see that. You don't mind sharing drinks with my best friend now.” He gives you a bitter smile for the first time in ages. The way he emphasized the word drinks makes you wonder what’s running through his mind.
Adam comes back with his burger and side dish, and you feel your mouth water. “Enjoy and let me know if you want anything else.”
Bucky takes a big bite from his burger as you reach out to his fries and take a couple without a care. If he can freely drink your cocktail, you can steal some of his fries.
Natasha and Steve look at you surprised.
“What are you doing?” Bucky asks, chewing loudly on purpose.
“Taking some of your fries.”
“Thought we don't share drinks and food anymore. We moved on from that. We passed that stage.”
You remark his and Natasha's closeness again and feel your blood boil.
“So it’s okay for you to do it, but it’s a problem when I do it?” Yet you take another fry and put it inside your mouth, looking directly into his eyes. You want him to know this is not about fries or sharing stuff.
Bucky's surprise is visible all over his face. He's simply speechless even after Adam brings you your drink and you give him a forced smile.
“Thanks, Adam,” You say like everything is fine. “I will use the restroom. Would you keep an eye on my drink for me, Steve?”
And you leave without waiting for an answer.
You go to the restroom, lock your door and sit down. You just need a minute alone because all of this is too much for you. Seeing him with Natasha tonight is hard enough, but he keeps challenging you. He acts like nothing is changed, but everything changed when he decided to walk away. Even though you don’t wanna admit it, your feelings for him are still there and they’re making everything harder.
You take a couple of deep breaths and remind yourself this was going to happen one day. It just happened to be today and you can get through it. You’ll be fine.
You get up, unlock the door and just wash your hands, splashing some water on your neck, too, before you look at yourself in the mirror. At least you are looking alright.
You jump when you hear the door opening and turn around just to see Bucky locking the door again.
“This is the ladies’ room!”
He looks at you as if he can't understand what you're saying.
“I said this is the ladies-”
“I heard you the first time. What the fuck do you think you're doing?”
You puff. “I should be the one asking that question.”
“I am not here sharing drinks with your best friend, am I?” He walks toward you.
“No, you are here with Nat.”
Bucky washes his hands in response, not understanding how you can compare Nat with Steve. You are here on a date with his best friend.
“Have fun with Nat and stay away from my drinks.” You leave the ladies’ room, but he’s right behind you.
“I wasn't finished with you.”
“That sounds like a you-problem. I have a drink that’s waiting for me.”
“Just be honest and say Steve is waiting for you.”
“Just like Nat is waiting for you.” You look like you are tired of this conversation already when you snap.
“Are you having fun, doll? Are we bothering you? Did you want to enjoy your date all alone?”
You make a face when you hear the word date. So that’s why he was acting like that. He thinks you are on a date with Steve. “What I do with my life is none of your concern! Just go and enjoy your own date.”
“None of my concern, right?” His calm facade is finally falling. “You are on a fucking date with my best friend!”
“Oh, so that’s why you decided to be an ass? Because you think Steve picked up the toy you threw away?”
When he gets so close to you, you feel like you're suffocating. “Careful.”
“Or what?”
“You forgot what happens?”
“Oh,” you say in a mocking tone. The audacity he has! “Well, too bad you don’t get to do that anymore.”
“Does he do that?” He closes his eyes, still too close to you. “Do you let him touch you? Is this why he isn't around?”
You raise your hand instantly, wanting to slap him right there for crossing a line, but you manage to control yourself, remembering his past. You see him closing his eyes instinctively and you sigh. You might be mad at him, but you wouldn't hurt him like this. He is not a bad person… And you don’t wanna bring his trauma back.
You take a deep breath and retreat your hand.
“Maybe he isn’t around because you are an ass, did you consider that?”
“Why him?” He opens his eyes. “I would take all of your slaps instead of living through this.”
He sounds so weak, and tired, and sad. There is a part inside you that gets angrier because he thinks so low of you, but there is another part that understands and wants to assure him you would never do that to him.
“Why him what? I’m not dating your best friend, Bucky. Pull your head out of your ass!”
He freezes. He really freezes and lets out a deep, deep breath as if he's been holding it for a long time. His forehead drops until it meets yours, and you gasp surprised.
“I was going insane, baby. I felt like my life was just...”
You take a step back, not letting yourself enjoy his touch or his baby. “It doesn’t change the fact that you are here with Nat.”
“What about Nat?”
“What about Nat?” You repeat his question. “Did you forget she’s waiting for you? Or the fact that you suddenly left me? Me not dating Steve changes nothing. So stop calling me baby or doll or whatever charming pet name you come up with.”
Bucky laughs humorlessly as he shakes his head. “You think I'm really with Nat? You think I could ever replace you? That I'd even try?”
“Then why the fuck did you leave me?” You are so close to shouting, but you still don’t want people to hear you. Your eyes are getting filled with tears.
 “Why do you think, huh? Do I look happy to you? You think I'd leave you to date Romanoff?”
 “Why not? She’s perfect!”
Bucky looks at you dumb-faced. “For who? For what? Why do you...”
“For you! You two are a perfect match!” You take a breath, trying to contain your emotions. You don’t want to cry in front of him.
He is instantly touching your arms again, making you shiver. “Why would you say that?”
“Because even if you aren’t dating now, you will realize how perfect she is for you eventually. So go back inside. Don’t let her wait.” You sniffle, your head is slightly shaking because of all the emotions you are holding back.
His flesh hand grabs your chin and you feel his hot lips on top of yours before you can react.
The way he kisses you makes you wanna cry even more. It reminds you of everything you tried so hard to forget yet never managed to…
Even though you want to give in, you take a step back. You can’t handle another heartbreak.
“Don’t…” The tears start to fall down. “Just don’t.”
“Do you not want me?” His eyes are teary, too, and there is nothing to hide anymore. But he can't ask this, he can't do this to you. He is unfair. He left you, he broke it off. He...
“Do you have any idea how much you hurt me?” You try to dry your tears with the back of your hand. “You can’t just come back, kiss me and expect everything to be fixed!”
 “I am so fucking sorry, baby. I wasn't trying to hurt you.” He stops himself and sighs. “I really don't deserve you. I keep making you cry.”
“Saying sorry isn’t enough, Bucky. What did you think would happen when you left me? Did you think it wouldn’t break my heart? Is this what you want to hear? That you broke my heart when you left me? Here! I’m heartbroken because of you. Happy now? Can we go back inside now?”
“I just wanted...” He shakes his head, wiping off his tears. “Let's just get inside.”
“What did you want Bucky? Tell me. What did you wanna hear?”
“I'm not worth it, that's fucking clear. I am sorry for this whole mess I brought into your life.”
“Don’t ever say that!” You angrily point your finger at him. “You know how much I think you deserve. This is solely about you leaving me. You made that decision, remember? I opened my heart to you and you left me! Don’t make me feel guilty about getting hurt.”
 “Don’t you realize how dangerous it is?” He says desperately, looking you in the eye. “I would get you killed... we all would...”
“Really? Is that why you left me?” It angers you more than you imagined. This is probably the worst reason he could give you. Like you were safe before meeting him. As if he didn’t save your life.
“Bucky?”
You jump when you hear Natasha.
“What?” He snaps, looking at her. There is nothing in his eyes that can be even close to desire, you notice.
“Are you gonna come back or should we leave and let you cry for the rest of the night?”
“No, Nat, we're leaving.”
You grab Bucky’s arm and drag him out despite the shocked look on Natasha’s face, and Bucky just lets you.
“Pay the check. He's gonna transfer you the money for our order later,” you say casually while half of the restaurant looks at you.
Steve throws him his leather jacket without hiding his smirk, and Bucky catches it, giving him a typical Bucky look without saying anything.
“Where are we going?” Bucky finally asks when you’re outside and you let go of his arm.
“Your place obviously. Did you walk or took the motor like a lazy ass?”
Bucky rolls his eyes and puts on his jacket. “I walked.”
“Fine. So we are walking back to your place then.” You wait for him to move as he laughs and shakes his head.
“What?”
“You said that when we met too.”
You roll your eyes. He’s always been a stubborn ass. You remember him insisting the serum will do its job and he’ll heal faster, but you couldn’t just let him bleed, so you had to drag him to your place. “Just walk.”
“Bossy.”
“If I remember correctly, you said that when we met.” You don’t wait for him and just start to walk, trying not to think about what he said.
You miss his huge grin and his boyish look, but you hear his footsteps. He reaches your side in no time. “I missed you.”
You close your eyes for a second and try really hard not to say you missed him too. “I can’t do this again, Bucky. I can’t get my heart broken for the second time.” You sound like you are in pain.
He nods. “I didn't even think you’d want that.”
“I just don’t understand what you are trying to do.”
“You deserve to know the truth and the context, so you can stay away from us for good.”
You huff, but you don’t say anything. You two walk in silence for a while and luckily it doesn’t take more than five minutes to arrive at his place.
You get to his door and the familiarity is killing you. So many memories come to your mind and you're not even inside yet.
When you finally step in, it's like time has not passed: the TV, the couch... except for the sheet. The sheet is back on the floor.
“Are you sleeping on the ground again?”
Bucky sighs, taking off his shoes. “Can we ignore that? Let's focus on your questions. Do you want a glass of water?”
“Answer my question while pouring me a glass of water then.”
“The man who almost killed you when we met?” He opens the fridge and takes out the water bottle before directly handing it to you. “He's a part of the new wave of Hydra.”
You look at him, feeling completely confused. You don’t even notice the water bottle.
Hydra?
 “They might know about you...” He bites his bottom lip entirely, showing his frustration. “We managed to take a few down. They are careless as fuck, so young and dumb.” He just puts down the bottle on the kitchen counter.
 “You… left me… because you think they are after me because of you?”
Bucky looks away. “Does it matter?”
“Isn’t that why I am here? Because you wanted me to know the truth. So just tell me. Is that why you left me?”
“He knew your name, where you work, your family.” Bucky pauses, trying to control his anger. “He knew we were together. I have no idea how because you know... you know I never let my guard down. And what if they’d have gotten you? What if they do? You need to stay away from me, us.”
He can’t believe Steve or the rest thought it’s okay to continue to be around you.
“So you decided to leave me alone, be a more vulnerable target. Good job Bucky! Very well done!” You start to clap. “You are the dumbest person I have ever met.”
“Do you honestly think I left you unprotected?” Bucky puffs, as if he can't believe you'd ever think that.
“Then why did you have to leave? What was the point, huh? If they already knew all that stuff about me… about us… What the fuck was the point?”
“What if they kidnap you or kill you just have me back?”
You sigh. “You know that’s always a possibility in our world right?”
He hesitates before speaking. “What if they trigger me?”
You take a frustrated deep breath. There is no way they can do that again. No way! But if he thinks that, then it means he doesn’t trust himself or his skills. Again. “You accepted the defeat already.”
Bucky snaps immediately. “Do you not understand I could kill you? I could kill you and not even...” He closes his eyes unable to look at you as he speaks. He could not recognize you. He could make you suffer in the worst possible ways if you were his target.
“This is why I said you accepted the defeat already!”
 “I could kill you...” Bucky repeats so shaken.
 “You wouldn’t.” You’ve never been more sure in your life.
 “How do you know that? I almost killed everyone...”
 “You didn’t kill Steve.”
Bucky gets closer again, shocked by how calmly you talk about his worst nightmare. “I can't risk that. I cannot risk your life.”
 “So you would rather leave me alone and heartbroken.”
 “Yes.” His answer comes instantly. “If you're alive, that's-”
 “And go back to sleeping on the ground!”
“It's not like I sleep much anyway.” The way he says it... like it's not a big deal at all amazes you.
“You know what bothers me about all of this? Something I didn’t think you would do...”
“What?”
“You took my choice away.”
Bucky is shaking when he hears you, completely taken aback.
 “Instead of telling me about all the risks, you decided on your own. I would never do that to you.”
“I dreamed about this. I... I saw you,” he pauses. “I was choking you."
 “Not something you didn’t do before.” Your response comes instantly, without much thinking because the tension is killing you and you want to lighten the mood a little. “Choking, I mean.”
And he smiles. You make him smile and it feels like you won the lottery. “You quite liked that.”
“You did, too.”
“I did, you were very pretty.”
“You know that’s not what I meant.”
Bucky sighs, not knowing what to say. “I'm sorry for putting you through all of this.”
“There’s something else you should also apologize about.”
“What?”
“For taking my choice away...”
“I am sorry for that,” he says instantly. “But I don't regret it. I made the right choice.”
“If you don’t regret it, we don’t have anything to talk about. I don’t need your sorry.” If he doesn’t regret it, what’s the point of this conversation?
“Your life is worth everything to me." His voice is so soft as he speaks.
“I understand that, but it doesn’t make it any better.”
“I am sorry for not telling you." He keeps apologizing.
“You don’t regret it, though. So… I don’t know where to go from here. Maybe I should go.”
He tries to hide his disappointment. He's being unfair and he knows it. “If that is what you want... let me grab the hamlets and I can give you a ride.”
“I don’t need a ride.” You don’t want to be that close to him on his motorcycle. You can handle yourself. You wish things were different, that he had told you the truth. You would have to make him see things from your perspective, but he didn’t share anything with you. He pushed you away completely.
“No fucking way.” Bucky shakes his head. “You should know this by now.”
“You’re not my boyfriend anymore so you don’t have a say.”
“No,” he simply responds.
“The sooner you accept that you have no say in my life anymore the better.” He can’t keep acting like he’s a part of your life. You understand his fear, his good intentions, but he refuses to see the whole picture. You’re not safe either way and he still protects you. He could have done it and still be by your side.
Bucky comes even closer to you. “It's not safe. Did you not hear me until now?”
“So dropping me off is somehow safer? Do you ever hear yourself? You told me you left me because my life was in danger and you don’t regret breaking my heart. And now you wanna drop me home and make me a target again? Is sleeping on the ground killing your brain cells too?”
“I have a fucking metal arm.” He raises his left arm. “I didn't mean just Hydra's dumb men. I mean normal dumb men too.”
“I did not forget that you have a metal arm, but you did since you broke up with me. And you apparently also forgot that I can handle dumb men all by myself. You chose this! You had your reasons, I get it, but you can’t just come back whenever you feel like it, okay? You can’t go all passive-aggressive like you did to Steve because I am on a date. You can’t offer to drop me off. If you’d decided to get out of my life, stand by that choice. Since you don’t regret it, it shouldn’t be that hard.” With every sentence, your anger is rising. You don’t realize you say the words like you’re spitting them out.
“I did not mean it like that.” He ignores the comment about how you can handle yourself because there are limits to that. “I regret not being with you, deciding that for you if that's what you mean, but I don't regret making this choice for your own good. And you would have gotten bored of me anyway. I have too much baggage, too. You shouldn't have to deal with this shit."
You shake your head, absolutely crushed by his words. How can he think he’s so hard to love? How can he… “If lying to yourself helps with sleeping at night, go for it, but that’s not the truth.”
Bucky sits down on the couch. “You cannot deny I am right.” He sighs. “Let me call you an Uber at least.”
“You want me to lie and I can’t do that, Bucky. You were the love of my life. I would never get bored of you.” You don’t know why you are saying all this. You thought and think about him constantly. He wasn’t just your boyfriend, he became your best friend.
You can see the surprise and happiness all over his face right away. He's glowing.
“You were mine, too, I hope you know that.”
“I didn’t. Not until now.” You bite your lip, trying to hold back your tears. It’s just so hard.
“I wish things could be different, but I promise I'll keep protecting you.”
That makes something inside you snap. “It could’ve been different! But you chose this!” Your anger is suddenly pouring out. “I don’t want your protection. You are either in my life or out of it. There’s no in-between. Do you understand me?”
“No.”
“God, I hate you so much! I hate how stubborn and stupid you are! I hate that you never listen to me! I fucking hate how you make me feel!”
Bucky stands up. “Do you think this is easy for me? Do you think I don't want to talk and hold you and make love to you? Do you think it's easy, huh? No! But someone has to make these decisions! I won’t let you die because you're stubborn.” He's so red and angry. “I am not worth it.”
 “For fuck’s sake! I’ve had enough of this, okay? One second you tell me you have to stay away and another that you wanna make love to me. You treat me like shit and then kiss me! Why do you do that, huh? Why?” You don’t wait for a response, letting out everything you have been holding in. “I don’t fucking care if it’s easy or not. You know why? It wasn’t my decision. YOU DIDN’T LET ME CHOOSE YOU. So if you are suffering that’s on you, pal. My suffering is on you, too. Now get out of my way. I wanna go home.” You try to breathe and control your anger again, but it feels impossible.
“What do you want me to do? Risk your life?”
“I want you to get out of my way and stay away from me. I’m done with talking, arguing, and crying.”
“You won't see me.” He looks away as he promises you that, and you feel like crying more than ever. That's it? “But you have to promise me you won't see the others.”
“The others?”
“Natasha, Steve, Sam. We are all the problem.”
“Oh, hell no. Fuck no! No!” You point your finger at him, angrily. “You don’t get to decide shit anymore. Especially not about my life. You are done with making choices for me!”
“Did you not hear what I told you tonight? They should know better. I will have a discussion with them about it too. They are so stupid-"
“I don’t fucking care. Should I spell it out for you? Would that make it easier for you to understand? I DON’T FUCKING CARE! You don’t want to be in my life, fine. Your decision, but them… I’m not giving up on anyone.”
“Why are you so fucking stubborn? We are talking about death and life.”
“I made that choice the day we met, okay? When you fucking saved me. I’m way passed that point. They are my friends, too, and they will stay that way. This conversation is over.”
“I'll call you an Uber.” He murmurs, knowing continuing this would not a wise decision. He expected more from Steve at least. He knew how dangerous this is. At least Sam and Natasha seemed to understand.
You’re surprised when you see him suddenly giving you a funny look. “What?”
“I can't believe you really thought I could be with Natasha like that.”
Of course this would come and bite you in the ass!
 “I always thought you two would be a good match.” That was always on the back of your mind, thinking if they gave it a chance it would work amazingly. She is beautiful, powerful, lethal… and Bucky deserves the best. Seeing them together double hurt.
He gasps as if he can’t believe this. “What?”
“Why are you so surprised?”
“We were together and you thought I could ever replace you with her?” He sounds hurt and confused at the same time.
 “Yeah. I was sure that would happen one day.”
He stares at you completely blank for a while and you don't know what he's thinking. You were honest.
“And you say I gave up on us? You thought I am gonna-”
“It doesn’t matter, Bucky, okay?”
It does, actually, very much, but you’re so tired and hurt and simply without energy.
“Fuck it.”
You don't expect him to take you by the back of your neck and kiss you, surprising you for the second time on the same night. You don’t understand why this set him off or what he’s trying to do. All you can think of is how much you missed this.
He whimpers when he realizes you don't reject him and licks your bottom lip.
You wanna cry. You wanna hit him. You wanna push him away, but you also want to keep kissing him. You hate how conflicted you are feeling.
He closes his eyes, letting you go. “I don't know why I...”
You know how that sentence would end. You don’t need to hear it. He doesn’t know why he can’t stay away from you.
“So you are really that dumb.”
He stares at your lips. “Fuck, maybe I am.”
 “You definitely are, but I am dumber.”
You grab him by the collar and kiss him again. He doesn't hesitate to open his mouth and let your tongue find his, his hands grabbing your ass and bringing you so close that you feel his hard-on.
“Fuck.”
Everything feels overwhelmingly familiar and you missed this so much. You missed his lips, his taste, his touch, his smell… You grab his face with both of your hands and kiss him however you want, however you need.
“No one can replace you, alright?”
“Then what is the point of all this?” His face is still between your hands. “You want us to live in agony for the rest of our lives?”
“I just want to keep you safe, baby.” He kisses your palms. “I really don't want to risk your life. I couldn't survive!” He's haunted by that image of you dying, him killing you… He wouldn't be able to move on with his life.
“But I don’t wanna live like this.”
“How do you want to live?” He finally asks.
“I wanna be with you, Bucky, but you don’t let me. You don’t let me have you. You don’t let me move on. How am I supposed to live like this?”
 “You want someone else?”
 Seriously?
“I said all of those things and that’s what you heard?”
“I heard you, but it's all a mess. I am a mess. I would understand.” His tone is ice cold. He's so frustrating.
You grab his face with one of your hands again and force him to look you in the eye. “Would you really understand?” You question because you are damn sure he wouldn’t. “You would rather have me forgetting all about you and moving on than being with me?”
He seems to think intensely for a couple of seconds, contemplating, imagining different scenarios. You can feel his jaw clenching and you bite your lip.
“You know there is no turning back then, right?”
You don’t understand what he means. “Turning back from what?”
He kisses you as if that is the only answer he can give you. And kisses you. And kisses you until you feel the salty taste of his tears.
Your heart breaks seeing him like this. So vulnerable and tormented. You break the kiss, look at his face, and you feel yourself tearing up.
 “You're so fucking stubborn, baby.”
 “So are you.”
Bucky smiles, kissing away a few tears on your cheeks. “Can I have you?”
“You gotta work for that.”
That doesn’t seem to deter him. “Yeah? Good, I love working.”
“Yeah? Because it’s not gonna be easy.”
Bucky smiles sadly. “When do I like it easy?”
“I mean it, Bucky. You have to earn my trust back.”
He takes a step back. “And I mean it, I'm here to prove that. I know what a hard and long process it is, and I would never leave you alone again unless you are tired of me. I will protect you with my life, I promise.”
You can’t believe the switch he made. Finally!
“Good. Now come and kiss me because I missed you.” You finally admit it out loud. He’s being vulnerable, so can you, but he hesitates a little.
There’s something in his eyes, maybe it’s the willingness to do anything to earn your trust back, including holding back and waiting, but you don’t want to wait.
“I said gaining my trust will take time. I didn’t say I wanna wait, Bucky.”
“What's the difference?” He’s reluctant, not wanting to make another mistake.
“The difference is I am horny.” It’s been too long. You can’t hold back anymore.
A playful smirk takes all over his face as he comes closer to you. “Are you now? And what can I do about it?”
“I don’t know. What can you do?” You dare him like you don’t know all the things he can do.
“Depends.” His hands grab your neck softly.
“On what?” It’s astonishing how easy it is to fall back into habits.
“On the limits you want to set.”
“You know my limits.”
He looks at you surprised. “But do you trust me with this?”
“My trust issues aren’t over this, and you know it.” He always knew when and where to stop. Never made you feel unsafe. Your only problems are the way he left you and how his actions hurt you.
“Intimacy means a lot of trust,” he says but brings his hands down to your shirt anyway.
 “I know. If you didn’t turn into someone else during the time we were apart, I trust you with this.”
“I don't have protection.”
You give him a look. “If you don’t wanna do it that’s fine.”
He snorts, literally ripping your shirt in half, buttons flying everywhere. “Yeah, I totally don't.”
His actions don’t surprise you. You are used to him ripping your clothes. You just look at your teared-away shirt, amused.
“Sounded like many excuses to me.”
“Do you not see my fucking erection?”
You look down, smiling. “Oh, I do see it.” It’s not something you can ignore.
“You lied to me,” he says in a low voice, taking off your bra in a couple of seconds using his flesh hand.
“About what?”
“About Steve. You wanted to drive me crazy.”
“I didn’t say anything about Steve.”
Bucky raises his eyes from your boobs to your face. “You let me think you are dating him.”
“You assumed I was dating him because we were out together and he was trying my favorite cocktail.” You start to unbuckle his belt, incapable to wait any longer. You missed him and his cock so much you are aching. “Take off your shirt.”
Bucky groans in annoyance. “Don't remind me. You made it for him.” He sounds like a jealous kid. “Take it off yourself.”
 “Yeah, I was gonna make it for Nat, too.” You finally unbutton his pants and push them down without paying much attention.
Bucky laughs, tilting his head.
“What is so funny?”
He takes off his shirt. “Your voice is getting higher when you're angry.”
“And?” You raise an eyebrow, challenging him to continue.
“Did Nat piss you off or something?” He unbuttons your pants, too, as he asks.
“You piss me off.”
Bucky smiles. “You tend to say that a lot. Nat doesn't think that.”
“What does she think?”
He pulls down your panties and you're surprised a little. You expected him to rip them.
“I guess I don't piss her off.”
You grab his face and make him look at you. “I bet you are on your best behavior around her.”
Bucky bites his lip. “Maybe I am.”
“Now who is lying?” You grip a little harder.
“I don't know, doll. Who is lying?” He moans.
“You enjoy it, don’t you? Seeing me like this? Getting me all worked up?”
You feel his hands on your hips all of a sudden. “You're getting flushed when you're worked up. So beautiful.” He leans in, trying to kiss you, but you don’t let him. You push him back. “Couch or bed?”
“Couch, it's closer unless you want the bed.”
“If you fucked anyone on that couch, I’m not even going close to it.” You look at him in the eye while saying that. It makes your skin crawl.
He grabs your face. “If you think I did this, maybe we shouldn't do anything.”
“What? We weren’t together.”
“I see.” His voice is so low that you barely catch it. What you said goes both ways.
“Don’t go all grumpy and jealous again. I didn’t fuck anyone.”
He puffs relieved. “I'm not grumpy.” He kisses you desperately, though, lifting you at the same time until you wrap your legs around him, and carries you to the couch.
He sits down and his hands drop to his sides, letting you find a good position on his lap.
You push him on his back while trying to make yourself comfortable. “Lay down.”
 “I can't reach your tits from there.”
“Just lay down. You are gonna like this.”
He leaves a kiss on both of your breasts before doing what you said, waiting eagerly. You move closer and closer under your pussy is right above his face. He doesn't say anything, and quickly pulls you completely down as if you'd have changed your mind any second if he hadn't done it. You lose your balance for a second but quickly grab the arm of the chair for support.
His tongue is everywhere for a while before stopping on your clit directly. He teases you, though, licking around it, and you can't stand it. You move your hips, trying to get his tongue right where you need it, and he chuckles, sending small vibrations to your clit.
“Just stop teasing me,” you say impatiently. There’s no time for games.
You don't understand what he murmurs, but you feel his tongue finally on your clit at the same time he gets a finger inside you. That gets a loud moan out of you.
“It wasn’t that hard, was it?” You complain while he pumps his finger in and out.
You feel Bucky's vibranium hand making its way to your chest, and you gasp at the cold touch right on your nipple.
 “You always find a way to do what you want to do.” But you aren’t complaining. It feels really good.
He adds a second finger inside you just when you finish your sentence.
“Oh, fuck you!” You say after moaning loudly. He’s definitely doing this on purpose.
He doesn't hesitate to move his fingers in a fast pace, opposite to the way he is using his tongue, which you know he does on purpose. Old habits...
“Just lick it properly if you don’t want me to torture you later.”
He pinches your nipple in response.
“Just stick your tongue out.” You move yourself a little bit away from his mouth.
He opens his eyes instantly and frowns. “What are you doing?”
 “Taking matters into my own hands.”
His eyes glow and he immediately opens his mouth, sticking his tongue out eagerly. Then you grab his hair and lower yourself onto his mouth, gently riding it.
Bucky moans, keeping his tongue as flat as he can. He can literally die like this and he'd be the happiest man on earth.
You slowly pick up your pace, listening to your body and the need to come grows when he moans just because you tug on his hair a little harder.
His fingers start to move again, surprising you since you're the one riding his face.
It makes your knees shake; it becomes harder to move for a second.
“Oh fuck.” You curse loudly. “I’m gonna- come.”
He whimpers in approval and adds a third finger out of nowhere. You can’t say anything. The only thing you can do is moan while riding his tongue. Bucky keeps the same pace, squeezing your breast at some point until you finish all dizzy.
You take deep breaths, still holding onto the arm of the couch. Then he grabs your hips, lifts you up and you find yourself on your back. You yelp because of his sudden move. He kisses you before you can say anything and spreads your legs at the same time. You feel the wet tip of his cock right at your entrance and you moan, giving him access to deepen the kiss while raising your hips slightly so you can feel more of him.
“That was so good. I missed you so much.”
You stare at his wet chin and cheeks and smile. Your face is now wet, too, but you don't care as you kiss him again. You kiss him until you feel breathless. Then you look at him, still high from your orgasm.
“I think I should’ve been the one to say that.”
“I missed you so much.” He repeats as he pushes inside you,
“Oh fuck.” It feels so good, even better than you remembered. “I missed you, too!” You sound breathless.
“I fucked my fist a thousand times thinking about you.” Hearing that turns you on even more.
“Yeah?” So you weren’t alone because you thought about him. Only him. “I imagined my dildo was your cock like a thousand times, too.”
Bucky's thrusts are finally getting faster. “Yeah? Was it good?”
“Some great some underwhelming orgasms. Yours?” You wanna know so badly.
“Nothing can compare to your pussy.”
“Not even another pussy?” You want to push him, so you don’t hold back your question.
He grabs your face. “I'm inside yours right now and you wanna talk about other women?”
“You know what I want to hear.” And it’s definitely not other women.
Bucky's eyes soften a little as he kisses your nose. “I haven't been with anyone else. And no pussy can compare to yours. No one can compare to you, stubborn little baby.”
You don’t feel any shame when a loud moan escapes your lips. That’s exactly what you wanted to hear.
“Harder?”
“Whatever you want.” It’s like your mind suddenly switched off.
Bucky brings his vibranium hand to your mouth. “Suck then.”
You don’t say anything, you just wrap your lips around his finger and start sucking.
“Good girl.” He starts thrusting a little harder, enjoying the way you look so out of your mind. “My good girl, taking my cock so well. Did you miss it so much?”
You wanna say something, but your mouth is occupied. So you moan instead.
“A fucking sight.” He groans, taking his thumb out of your mouth despite your protests. “Never letting you go.”
“Oh, you finally made up your mind,” you say in a mocking tone.
“Gonna choke you with my cock next and we'll… fuck! see if you'll mock me then, too.”
“You can choke me now, you know.”
Bucky brings his flesh hand to your neck instantly and you frown. As much as you enjoy him finally slowly returning to his own habits, he's still being careful.
“Really?” Your eyebrow raises automatically.
“What?”
“If you’re gonna hold back, maybe we shouldn’t do this.”
He sighs. “It's been a while, I don't want to hurt you.”
“Can you even hurt me?”
Bucky stops mid-thrust and raises his eyebrow. “What?”
“I think you might be getting old. Or maybe the serum is wearing off.”
You didn't expect him to bite it so quickly, but he does, grabbing your thighs and finally fucking you harder. “Gonna make you scream.”
“You are definitely getting old.,” you say half breathless.
“I won't make you bleed, baby. We can go harder than this after you get used to having sex with me constantly again.”
“I meant your memory.” He’s going really fast and it makes it harder to speak. “You forgot what I asked for.”
“Want me to choke you?” He moans, realizing what you mean. “Beg for it.”
“Just choke me, old man.”
He says something, but you don't understand what, and when you feel the cold metal on your neck, you don't even care. You close your eyes in pleasure.
“Like this? Is this what you want?”
“Yeah.” The words barely leave your lips. It feels amazing.
“No dildo can replace my cock, can it?”
“No.” You shake your head. “Nothing can.”
“No other man, either, right?” You feel his wet kiss on your neck. “No other super soldier. Not Steve.”
“Steve?” You can’t believe he’s actually asking this. Is he that jealous?
“No one else.”
You grab him by the hair and force him to look at you while you speak. “I don’t want anyone else. Do you hear me?”
Bucky smiles. “I don't hear you. Can you repeat it?”
“You bastard!” You smack his chest with a big smile.
“Bastard?” Bucky laughs, slowing his thrusts.
“Old bastard.” You laugh with him.
“Fuck, I'm gonna make your ass red.”
“Make me come first,” you say in a challenging tone.
He squeezes the sides of your neck a little harder than before and the pressure makes you dizzy in the best way. “You're so wet for me. So fucking wet and perfect for my cock.”
Your mouth opens but nothing comes out. No words, not even moan. Bucky smiles when he feels your whole body trembling and a few of his hair strands fall all over his face. His flesh hand goes to your clit, circling it a couple of times in the middle of your orgasm.
“Oh my fucking god…” You murmur. It’s like your whole body is electrocuted.
“Can you take my come, baby?” He asks squeezing your neck a little more. “Gonna give it to you. Gonna...”
“Yes, please.” It is like a whisper, but you know he can hear you. “Please.”
That's all it takes for him to come. And come. And come. A lot, you can feel it filling you and probably dripping out on the couch because there's so much come. You kiss his forehead and hair, anything you can, still feeling out of this world. It's like you could fly.
You missed this... Feeling like being one with him. Sharing this high. It feels you with all kinds of emotions.
“God, I missed this.”.
“Of course you did.” You giggle.
“Did you not?” He fishes once again before bringing his head to your boobs and licking all over them.
“Fuckkk.” Your laugh turns into moaning. You want to push your breasts more into his mouth. “You have no idea how much I missed you.”
He sucks your right nipple in return. “Ihm.”
“If you keep sucking it I might come again.”
Bucky sucks even more, bringing his vibranium to your other breast.
“Move your hand on my clit,” you say after moaning loudly.
He does it quickly, making sure to tickle you before finally touching your clit. You giggle first, then moan when you feel his mouth sucking on your nipple while his fingers work on your clit. You close your eyes and let yourself enjoy this double stimulation.
“So soft.” You can barely understand what he says while still sucking. You take a sharp breath when your legs start to tremble. He's enjoying every single whimper of yours as he keeps moving his mouth and hand at the same time.
You love hearing the sounds he makes while sucking on your nipple. You run your hands through his hair and enjoy your high to the fullest until it feels too much. You grab his hair and move his mouth away from you.
“That’s… that’s… enough.”
“Why?” He sounds like a little kid.
“I’m… sensitive.”
Bucky takes his mouth off immediately with a pop and kisses you as an apology. You tremble under his touch once again, sighing right after it.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” It’s obvious that you don’t mind. You sound content and satisfied.
He completely gets out of you too while licking his finger. “Gonna get you a towel and a glass of water. And a blanket.”
“Why a blanket?” You look at him confused while Bucky stands up hesitatingly
“For you...”
“Did you sell your bed or something? Are we sleeping here?” You joke.
“I was gonna make you some fries...”
“Fries?” You straighten up a little, surprised.
“Yep. I think I have some pickles, too.”
“Okay.” A warm smile spreads on your face. This is the Bucky you remember. He smiles, too, and goes to the bathroom probably, but you hear his chuckle anyway.
*
“Come on, one more.” You try to force the fry inside his mouth, but he's a stubborn man.
“They are for you, baby. Eat!”
“If they are for me, I decide what happens to them and I want you to eat one more.”
Bucky rolls his eyes but takes the fry anyway. “Happy?”
“Very.” You take another fry and start chewing. “You know we should talk, right?”
“Well aware, yes.”
“Are we gonna or…” You’re hesitant because it feels good to be like this with Bucky after a long time, but you also know you should be talking and sorting things out.
“I was waiting for you to start.”
“The problem is I don’t know what to say.” Or where to begin. You feel like you’ve already said everything. Or better yet, you screamed it to his face.
“What do you want to know?”
“Are we trying again or are you gonna say this was a mistake?” It’s at the back of your mind. The fear of him leaving again…
“This could never be a mistake, love. I was simply trying to protect you the best way I knew. I will protect you.” He sounds genuine, but it doesn’t change how you feel.
“If you leave me again, it doesn’t matter why, you won’t have another chance.” Your tone is more serious than before. You want him to understand this. You can’t keep playing this back-and-forth game over and over again. You don’t believe in second chances, but this is an exception. The only exception you are ever willing to make because you understand his intentions, how his mind works, how his trauma still hits him. Dealing with Hydra again is a scary thing. You can’t imagine how he felt when he found out.
He looks at you so proud. “I know. I am lucky I got another chance in the first place. I am not even worth it.”
“Stop with the self-degrading talk, will you? I can’t stand it.” You always hated the way he talked about himself. He’s worth everything.
“But it's the truth.”
“I can’t believe you went back where you started the moment you left me. The self-degrading talk, sleeping on the floor…” It bothers you so much, like it’s somehow your fault, but you know it isn’t.
Bucky closes his eyes. He's not proud of it, but there is nothing he could have done to control it. “I am a lost case, I know.”
“Bucky,” you say in a surprisingly firm tone, and he opens his eyes back. “You’re worth everything, but you gotta believe it yourself first. I can’t magically make you see how wonderful you are. I don’t have that kind of power.”
 “Sometimes I feel it, but sometimes... there are some really hard days, you know?” He sighs. “The past I had, my Winter Soldier past, too, the mess... it's hard to believe I deserve some kind of peace, but I'm trying.”
You know he is.
“You are a wonderful person, especially when you are not an asshole who thinks he knows the best for everyone.”
“I'm a super soldier, remember? I'm used to making these kinds of decisions.” He gives you a small guilty smile.
“You know what soldiers are meant to do right?” You quickly continue without waiting for an answer. “It’s definitely not making decisions.”
“No?”
“No. Good soldiers follow orders.”
He smiles. “I'm a bad one, don't you know? The worst soldier.”
“Until further notice you are not allowed to make decisions.”
“It's not that simple.”
“No, it’s pretty simple. Don’t tire that beautiful head of yours. It’s not meant to make decisions anyway.” You try to sound like a 40s husband on purpose.
Bucky's head snaps to you. “You sound like my grandfather.”
“So you are familiar how this works.” You finally give him a smile.
“I'm gonna take care of you. No one will hurt you.” He still doesn’t get it, so you decide to explain.
“You will do whatever I say until I trust you to make your own decisions.” Your voice is firm. You don’t like it, to be honest, because you know this is super hard, especially for someone like him... giving away the control knowing everything he's been through, but what choice do you have?
Bucky frowns. “What does that mean?”
“It means if you want me back, you will let me decide on things for a while. You took my choice away and made us both suffer. Letting me decide is how you earn my trust back.”
His stomach aches. “I don't feel... what does that mean? There are many things, I can't just...”
You can see the panic so clearly and you realize how this must have sounded. “Calm down, Bucky. I don’t mean everything. Just things about our relationship.”
“Your safety is off the table,” he says without hesitation, and you’re surprised he doesn’t protest about something else. “You can decide on everything else.”
“Nope. That’s what got us here.” You sound calm.
“You don't understand the level of the danger.” His voice is trembling. “Everything but your safety.”
“You fucking left me over this, Bucky!” You raise your voice a little because what if he finds another Hydra member and tries to leave you again? “How can I trust you and accept this? How can I know you won’t do it again and say it is for my safety?”
“Conditions. Name them all, I am up for it, but I cannot play around with this. I couldn’t sleep for weeks because of it. Please... I need to be in control just in this aspect. I need to protect you.”
You think for a second. “You talk to me first. That’s the condition.”
Bucky leans in and steals your fry, agreeing happily immediately. “Done.”
“And you need to respect my decisions. Even if you don’t like them. I don’t like yours all the time, but…”
“When did I not respect your decisions? I think you are very bright and rational, usually.”
“When you didn’t even ask me and took a decision for me.” You look into his eyes daringly.
“Would you have stayed away from me? And I said usually.”
“I wouldn’t and it would be my decision.” He can’t use this against you.
“Why?”
“I could hide, I could act like we aren’t together, I could act like I hate you, but I can’t stay away.”
“We could never act.” He kisses your forehead.
“Fine. We could only see each other in secret then.” That was another possibility.
He smiles like what you said reminds him of something. “When can we have a date?”
“Tomorrow?”
“I hope you won't change your mind.” He grabs your head and you squeeze it.
“I won’t ever change my mind about you.”
You kiss him before placing the plate on the coffee table and resting your head on his chest where it feels like home.
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steddieas-shegoes · 1 year
Text
“Steve! We have to go!”
“I’m coming!” He yelled back to Robin, still searching through his closet for the pants he planned for their night out. “Where the hell are they?”
He was throwing things out of the way, not caring where they landed.
That was a problem for future Steve.
Current Steve needed to look as hot as possible.
His dry spell would be over tonight. He wasn’t leaving the bar until it was.
“Steve!”
“Robin! Where are the jeans?”
“What jeans?”
“The jeans! The ones that you told me to wear!”
“Didn’t you wear them yesterday?”
“No! I saved them!”
But Steve looked over at his laundry basket where his shirt was hanging over and the pair of jeans he was looking for peeked through.
He did wear them yesterday.
Fuck.
Okay, back up options.
The dark jeans that actually probably belonged to someone else and didn’t fit his thighs right? No, he needed to show off his thighs.
The light jeans he hadn’t worn in at least a year because there was a questionable stain that wouldn’t come out? Well, it would be dark in the bar, but no. He’d know about it.
The jeans he wore earlier that weren’t special but also weren’t bad? How would that help him get laid? No.
So he looked back the jeans in his hamper, ignoring Robin’s angry yelling from outside his door.
“Found them! Two minutes!”
He put on the jeans, hoping they didn’t smell or have any stains on them.
He ignored Robin as he threw on his coat that was hanging on the back of the couch and ignored the dull headache blossoming across his temples.
He opened the door and started to leave.
“You coming?” He asked over his shoulder, laughing when Robin smacked his arm as she passed by him.
“Don’t act like you’re waiting on me. I’ve been waiting on you for 30 minutes!”
They barely spoke on the way to the bar, Robin already sensing his headache and probably hoping the silence would make it better before the night got started.
She was amazing.
Steve couldn’t live without her.
But hopefully, they’d both find someone tonight. They needed it.
— — — —
Steve wasn’t having any luck. In fact, he’d never had worse luck.
His head was pounding at this point, music much louder than usual, more people crowded around his usual spot. The three men and one woman he’d danced with so far were fun, but not really his type. He’d been a little upset about seemingly wasting his time, but swallowed down the bitter feeling when he saw Robin dancing with the same girl for three songs, huge smile on her face.
At least one of them was getting something from tonight.
He stood at the far corner of the bar, trying to be out of the way as best he could. He needed to have some water, but he knew the bartender wouldn’t be pleased about getting pulled away from actual paying customers. He would wait for a lull and then get his attention.
It was a new guy, or at least one who didn’t normally work the shifts Steve was here. He was pretty.
There was no other way to describe him; long, curly hair, tattoos everywhere, wide Bambi eyes, tall and thin frame that still held hidden muscle. Steve’s dream, really.
Too bad his vision was getting blurry from the headache.
He had to reevaluate his plan and get water now before he went into full migraine territory. He couldn’t pull Robin away from her night just because he had to get home safely with a debilitating migraine.
He started trying to wave to the bartender anytime he looked over towards Steve’s end of the bar, but it didn’t work.
He tried yelling over the crowd and music, but it ended up making his head throb worse.
He finally managed to throw a napkin at him when he was standing a few feet away.
Not his finest moment, but he’d apologize when he had water.
The bartender looked over at him with raised brows.
“Need something?”
Steve couldn’t help the shame he felt about literally everything happening at that moment.
“Water please?”
The bartender nodded once and grabbed a cup to fill with ice and water. Steve felt some of his muscles relax knowing that he was going to be able to hydrate a little.
When he placed it in front of Steve, he slid a small cup of lemons with it.
“Squeeze a little in there. Helps with headaches.”
Steve knew he was looking at Eddie like the sun shone out of his ass. It would be embarrassing if he wasn’t so dreadfully miserable from the almost-migraine.
“Thanks.” Then he realized how shitty he must look if the bartender knew what was going on from just looking at him. “Wait. How’d you know?”
“My uncle gets them bad. He always gets pale and his eyes get bloodshot when one’s coming. You looked in the mirror lately?”
Steve shook his head, then winced at the way it made his head pound.
“You here with someone?”
“Yeah. She’s dancing.”
“Need me to have an announcement made for her?”
“No, let me drink this first.”
The bartender nodded, but Steve noticed he kept checking on him between serving other drinks to people.
Steve used more lemon than he probably should have, but he had a whole cup of it, and it couldn’t hurt to use more.
He rested his head against the wall next to him, wincing at the excessive vibrations from the music.
Normally, he loved that their hole in the wall bar got loud and fun once a week. Tonight, he wished he could be surrounded by silence.
He knew he was getting worse, but he didn’t want to bother Robin, who was still dancing with the same girl. She’d probably go home with her as long as Steve didn’t interrupt.
He felt a hand on his forehead, slowly brushing sweaty hair away. He tried opening his eyes, but even the small amount of light seeping through his eyelids was too much.
“Hey, I’m Eddie. I’m the bartender. My relief just walked in so I’m gonna help you to the back, okay?”
Steve could barely nod, the pain in his head throbbing down his jaw and neck. He reached his hand towards the voice and managed to make contact with Eddie. Hopefully, Eddie understood he was not gonna be able to do anything helpful at this point.
He felt an arm around his waist, guiding him away from the bar, but Steve still didn’t want to try opening his eyes. He had to trust Eddie.
He should’ve stayed home. He knew the dull pain he felt earlier would turn into worse, but he was so stuck on getting in bed with someone, he came anyway.
Eddie was walking slowly, keeping a firm grip on Steve so he wouldn’t jostle him around too much. Maybe if Steve weren’t getting his brain attacked by hammers and knives, he’d be trying to get Eddie in bed.
That thought came and went though as he realized how pitiful it was that a grown man couldn’t even walk himself home because he had a migraine.
Eddie would probably tell this incredibly embarrassing story to everyone here and laugh about it for weeks.
Steve was in and out of it for the next few minutes, unable to really focus on anything around him besides the warm hand on his hip. Despite being sweaty enough to wring water from his shirt, he still felt cold, shivers occasionally wracking his body.
This was a really bad one.
He was so stupid for being stuck in a bar for this.
His brain registered a door closing, then a fan turning on. It wasn’t completely silent, but the outside noise was a small echo in his brain compared to the banging it had been previously.
“Gonna set you on the couch in the corner and get some ice.”
Steve didn’t acknowledge him, but he let out the most ridiculous whimper when Eddie set him down on the couch, slowly laying him back so his whole body was flat. He heard the door open and close, but was so focused on how nice the air from the fan felt, he didn’t hear the door open and close when Eddie came back in.
“Alright, gonna put this on your head. Where’s it hurt?”
“Everywhere.”
Eddie sighed, but placed the bag of ice on his forehead to start.
“Get these often?”
Steve appreciated his very low voice, knowing that anything at a regular volume would probably be too much in this quiet room.
“Mhm.”
“I grabbed you more water too. Think you can have a sip?”
“Mm. No.”
He heard Eddie laughing quietly, but he couldn’t smile back at him.
“You live close?”
“Mhm. Mile.”
“I live closer.”
“Hm?”
“Welcome to my humble abode. I own the bar, work at the bar, and live at the bar. Technically this is the staff office, but upstairs is my bedroom, kitchen, and bathroom. If you think you can handle the stairs, you can sleep in my bed and I’ll take the couch. I’ll let your friend know you’re here too if you give me a name.”
“Steve.”
“Your friend’s name is Steve?”
“No. Mine.”
“Okay, what’s your friend’s name, Steve?”
“Robin.”
He tried opening his eyes so he could see his surroundings, but they were so heavy. Leave it to Steve to end up suffering with the worst migraine he’s had all year at a bar with a hot bartender taking care of him and he can’t even open his eyes to fully appreciate it.
He distantly heard the door again, but must’ve fallen asleep for a bit because the next thing he knew, he felt hands on his face.
“You’re sure he can stay here?”
“Robs?”
“Steve. You idiot. You should’ve told me it was getting worse.”
She was whispering, but she was angry with him and he knew she would be yelling if she was a worse friend.
“Sorry.”
“Eddie’s gonna handle it. I’m gonna take Chrissy home. You call me as soon as you’re up, got it? I’ll send the cops here to break down the doors if I don’t hear by lunch time tomorrow.”
“Got it.”
He was gonna forget, but hopefully Eddie would remind him.
When he had bad migraines, he pretty much forget everything he did or said. None of the doctors could explain it. He’d had scans done, and there were no signs of memory diseases, so it was just a part of the trauma from multiple concussions.
He could hear Robin telling Eddie the same thing. If he could make his face work, he’d probably smile.
He drifted again, but he could hear Robin still talking to Eddie as he did.
The next time he was fully aware, he was in a bed. The bed was huge, and there were so many pillows around him, it felt like a fort.
Two blankets were on top of him, one so soft he couldn’t help rubbing his cheek against it. He was surrounded by a cozy, light cologne smell.
He was also fully clothed.
His jeans were itchy, and he suddenly felt claustrophobic as he realized the sun was up and he was alone in a stranger’s bed.
He sat up and looked around.
The room itself wasn’t that big, the bed taking up most of the space. The door was closed, but he could hear someone moving around outside of it. He looked to the right to see a door that must lead to a bathroom.
He quickly got out of the bed, shoving his shoes on and grabbing his wallet off the table. He opened the door and saw the back of a man with long, curly hair.
The bartender.
Eddie.
Eddie had taken care of him during his migraine. His migraine that he should’ve known was coming and stayed the hell home.
He was an idiot.
When Eddie turned around, he felt his heart stop.
God, he was pretty.
Like, Steve might have to change up the nights he comes to the bar just to get a glimpse of this beautiful man.
“Hey. Feeling better? Must be since you’re standing without support.”
Steve blushed. He’d never been in this position before, and he had no idea what the proper etiquette is for thanking someone for taking care of you when you’re unable to even move or talk.
“Uh. Yeah, much better. Um.” Steve awkwardly stood by the counter while Eddie continued mixing coffee in a mug. “Thanks for. All that.”
Eddie was laughing. In another circumstance, Steve may have found it cute, maybe been proud of himself for making a hot guy laugh.
But he was dealing with a migraine hangover, which usually left him grumpy.
Eddie must’ve noticed because he stopped laughing abruptly.
His head tilted to the side as he looked Steve up and down.
“You know, Robin called four times already this morning to check on you. You should probably call her and let her know I didn’t murder you and hide the body already.”
“Okay. Yeah. I.” He felt around in his pockets and couldn’t feel his phone. Shit.
“Over there. Charging.” Eddie said as he pointed towards the table by his front door.
“Thanks.”
Steve walked over to his phone to see 33 missed calls from Robin.
He called her back immediately, not wanting her to actually show up with a SWAT team.
“Thank god! Steve, I told you to call by lunch. I was just about to call Hop.”
“You’re the one who left me here.”
“Yes, assuming you’d wake up early enough that I wouldn’t assume you’ve been murdered!”
“What time is it?”
“Almost 3:00, Steve!”
“Fuck. Okay. I’m leaving now.”
Eddie cleared his throat and nodded at the counter, which now had a plate of fried eggs, toast, bacon, and sausage on it.
“Okay I’m eating, then I’m leaving.”
“You better text me. I’ll show up with Hop!”
“Robin. Jesus.” Steve felt a bit lightheaded. “I am literally at the bar. You know where I am and who I’m with. Chill.”
“You were incapacitated.”
“And now I’m not. I can escape if I have to.”
“You’re not as strong as you think you are!”
He hung up before she kept going. She would stay on the phone for hours if he let her, and he wasn’t in the mood.
He made his way to the counter and sat down, smiling at the steaming food.
“You didn’t have to cook all this. Especially this late in the afternoon. You probably have to head down to the bar.”
“Nah. I own the place. I just work there to keep myself busy. I’m all yours until you’re good to go home.”
Steve didn’t have much of a response for that, his brain still firing on the bare minimum. Migraine hangovers were worse than actual hangovers.
He ate a few bites silently, then looked up to see Eddie setting a cup of tea in front of him.
“What’s this?”
“Technically, sleepy time tea. But it works really well for headaches.”
“Oh. Thanks. It won’t like, make me fall asleep?”
Eddie laughed and Steve decided he was happy to hear it now.
“No. It has relaxing properties to it, but it doesn’t actually make you drowsy.”
Steve took a few small sips and smiled.
“It’s good.”
“My uncle says I make the best.” Eddie leaned over the counter with a smile. “So, you thought going to a bar was a good idea with a headache? On our DJ night?”
“It wasn’t that bad when I left. Thought I’d be okay.”
“Mhm. So you get these a lot?”
“Well. I mean I do get migraines a lot. But that one was one of the worst I’ve had in a while. I can usually still talk and walk enough to get to my own bed.”
“Do you remember everything?”
Steve knew he had a lot of blank spots in his memory from last night. If Eddie wasn’t such a nice guy, he’d probably be more worried about it.
“No. I have memory problems when I get them.”
“Ah. Well that’s okay. I got you into bed pretty easily. You only woke up twice. Once to use the bathroom, which you managed to do alone. The second time you were crying about having to sleep alone? I couldn’t understand all of it, but that seemed to be the gist.”
“Oh.” Steve sighed. “That’s super embarrassing. Guess I’ll never come back here. Maybe never leave my house again.”
Eddie smirked. “I dunno. I think maybe I could fix the sleeping alone thing. You know, when you’re not incapacitated from a migraine.”
“You’re serious?”
Eddie nodded.
“You saw me like that and would actually want to be around me again?”
“I was hoping for more than around you. Maybe on you? In you? Next to you? All of those sound good.”
Steve choked on his next bite.
“Uh.”
He took a sip of the tea to help clear his throat, ignoring the way Eddie was moving around the counter.
“You know, Robin kept me on the phone for about an hour earlier, telling me all about how you’re the best guy she’s ever known and she’s a lesbian for a reason so that means a lot. Said you guys come here once a week because it’s the best place to find decent people, not just anyone. Said you’ve both had a bit of a dry spell.”
“She’s exaggerating.”
“Oh, so it hasn’t been eight months since you’ve taken someone home?”
“No.”
Eddie’s eyebrows raised in a challenge.
“It’s been ten.”
“My bar hasn’t been good to you, I guess.”
“Up until last night, I guess not. But I still prefer it over the clubs.”
“Until last night?”
“Yeah. The guy who owns the place kind of rescued me and let me sleep in his really comfy bed. He probably deserves something for that.”
“Oh? What does he deserve?”
“Well, I’d offer a blowjob, but I’m out of practice and might disappoint.”
“Somehow I doubt that.”
“But maybe he’d be okay with a real date?”
“When would this date be?”
“Maybe tonight?”
“Hm. He has to check the bar schedule, make sure no one needs coverage.”
“He can text me later to confirm.”
“I sure hope you’re giving me your number to do that.”
Steve laughed and held his hand out. Eddie placed his phone in his hand and waited for him to type his name and number in his contacts.
When Steve handed it back, their hands grazed each other. Eddie wrapped his fingers around Steve’s wrist, squeezing for a moment.
“Dinner here? Maybe 8?”
“I thought you had to check the schedule.”
“Nah, just needed your number. I make the schedule, I know it like the back of my hand.”
Steve shook his head.
“Can’t start a relationship on lies.”
“Oh, a relationship? You move quick don’t you.”
Steve did. He knew he did. It’s why he’d never been able to keep anyone around. He moved like he was ready for marriage on the first date, and usually people didn’t like that.
He looked down at his lap, already prepared to lose Eddie’s interest.
But he felt a hand on his cheek, slowly guiding him to look up.
“Dinner here at 8?”
“Uh. Yeah. Please.”
Eddie smirked at him before he placed a soft kiss on his lips.
“Just be yourself, Steve. I like you just fine. And I’ve already seen you at your worst and your crazy best friend. It’s all uphill from here.” Eddie pulled away and moved back to start cleaning dishes from his cooking. “Who knows? Maybe we’ll end up married by the end of the year.”
“Now you’re making fun of me.”
“Am I?”
Eddie looked over his shoulder, serious look on his face.
“Are you?”
“No. Stranger things have happened.”
2K notes · View notes
owliellder · 9 months
Text
The Finer Details
Post DI! Leon Kennedy x Painter fem! Reader
Tumblr media
MDNI 18+
(Session 1, Session 2, Session 3, Session 4, Session 5, The Reveal)
Description: Leon realizes that retirement is in his best interest now that he's getting older. All of his accomplishments as an agent mean he's truly earned a painting to commemorate..
Warnings: Not Proofread, Age gap! (reader is anywhere between mid-late 20's and Leon is 40), Porn w/ Plot, Use of she/her pronouns, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Alcoholism, mentions of trauma/PTSD/depression, P in V smut (wrap it NEOW), Leon cries during sex 💔
Tags: Older Leon Kennedy, Younger afab!Reader, Leon is SAD but he is your muse, Crying, mentions of Leon masturbating, starts off with Dom! Leon and Sub! Reader, falls into switch territory because that man needs some serious TLC, Praise kink, Hickeys, Handjob, Nipple play, Oral sex (m! and f! receiving), and a heavy dose of Aftercare
Author Note: I'm actually thinking I might be doing one chapter every other night, but I would also like to draw on my comically large art tablet at some point this week, so I might skip a day or two.
Cross posted onto AO3
Session 2: Color Matching
You partially regret just agreeing to "tomorrow", seeing as this man decided that he wanted to show up at 4am.
It was the original time set for yesterday's session, and you guess he felt bad for being late, but god damn he texted you an hour earlier telling you he'd be there by 4am. Dragging yourself out of the comfort of your bed was difficult, but in the end it was worth it to draw such a stunner.
You had to get there before Leon did, so there you were; half awake, dressed in a pair of fuzzy pants and a loose t-shirt, and a small cup of tea in your right hand while the other fumbled with the keys to your little work room.
That was the greatest part about your job as a professional painter. You didn't have a dress code.
Though most days you did try to look your best, some days it was just easier to be comfortable. Besides, it's not like tons of people come and see you everyday, it was usually just one person at a time.
It was 3:47am by the time you'd gotten to your workspace and settled, sitting on one of the many floor pillows in the living area you put together away from the actual painting setup. The tea was warm, it was keeping you sleepy, but you couldn't stop taking small sips. It was in your hands, there wasn't much you could do to stop yourself.
You told Leon to just come on in when he arrived, not wanting to walk all the way back down just to lead him back up. The stiffness from sleep was still in parts of your body, so you knew it would be difficult to get up, even when he did finally stride through that door. He dressed nicely today, just what you needed him to do.
Wanting to relish in the dim yet warm lighting of your various lamps for as long as possible, you beckoned the man to come over and sit with you, which confused him slightly. He thought you would be ready to get started once he showed up, but he wasn't one to argue so early in the morning. Instead, he shrugged and slowly sauntered over to you, taking a seat on a floor pillow across from yours.
"Good morning." Leon grumbled quietly, his voice barely hiding the fact that he wasn't quite awake either. That rumble in his chest made your stomach flutter. "Good morning to you, too." You responded, closing your eyes for a moment to take another sip of your tea.
"When uh-" He cleared his throat, putting a fist up to his mouth as he did so. "When are we gonna get started?"
You furrowed your eyebrows, moving the cup away from your lips to stare at him. "I wasn't expecting to be up so early, so just give me a few more minutes to wake up and then we can turn my main lights on."
Leon sucked on his teeth as he thought, turning his head to look over out one of the windows as he rested his wrists on his knees. "Oh, yeah, sorry. Just wanted to make up for being late yesterday."
You laughed softly before letting out a quiet sigh, setting your tea down on the low coffee table sitting behind you.
"Don't worry about it, but also don't make me get up so early again, old man." You attempted to joke, immediately noticing the wince on his face at the nickname. To divert, you stood up and stretched, patting his shoulder as you walked by him. "Alright, let me pull my stuff out and then we can get started."
Leon followed you with his head, taking a few seconds before standing up himself, pressing his hands onto his knees to help get up from the floor pillow.
"I'm just going to be color matching your tones today. I won't do all of it since obviously lighting changes throughout the day, buuuut..." You trailed off, beginning to rummage through a drawer in one of your desks before pulling out handfuls of paint tubes. "I just need to pull out the basic colors I'll be using."
It was still pretty dim in the room which caused you to have to squint to see the names of the colors on the tubes. Leon found that partially amusing, his chuckle causing you to glare playfully over at him. "Something funny?"
"As funny as it is to watch you go cross-eyed looking at those," he smiled, gesturing with his thumb to the light switches near the door. "I feel like it'd be easier to just turn the lights on."
"My retinas will be fried if those get turned on-" You were cut off by your own shout when Leon took the liberty of turning the lights on himself, laughing as you quickly moved to cover your eyes.
He only had to squint for a second before his eyes adjusted. You, however, were not expecting the sudden change, so you got an eyeful of bright white light. Complete and utter agony that lasted for a full five seconds.
By the time you moved your hands away from your eyes, they were watering and you had to squint for awhile longer. "Give me a warning next time you decide you want to try and murder me like that." You said, wiping away the few stray tears you'd produced from the light sensitivity. "You might live in the light, but I don't!"
The man shook his head and crossed his arms, smile still plastered to his face as he slowly made his way over to the chair in front of your easel. "That's payback for calling me an old man."
You twisted your head around to the chair so you could give him an indignant look, catching a glance as he was putting his hands up in defense with a small "what?" before you turned to look down at the tubes of paint sitting next to your hands on top of the desk.
"Nothing, just wasn't expecting to work with a toddler, that's all.." You mumbled, smile creeping onto your face as you heard him click his tongue from behind you. "I was an old man not five minutes ago and now I'm a toddler?" Leon asked, voice peaking dramatically.
"Yes, you have quite the range, Mr. Kennedy." You began sifting through the various paints you'd pulled out, humming softly as you contemplated what route you wanted to take with them. Stick to primaries? Add secondaries? Should I just use every color I need? Hmmm..
Leon watched as you stared at the paint tubes you'd picked up, tilting his head to the side slightly to try and get a better look. He snapped his head back upright when you started to speak again. "I'm trying to decide whether or not to use a lot of different colors, or just stick to a minimum.."
It was almost as if you knew what he was wondering. "Uhh... what's the difference...?" The man questioned, raising an eyebrow as you turned around, seemingly having made your decision already.
"Using just the main 6 colors-" You turned around and were faced with his very confused stare, causing you to explain a little better. "The main colors you see in a rainbow."
He breathed out a quiet "ahh" at that. Okay, good. He knows his basics. Cute...
"I can mix just red, blue, and yellow at varying degrees to get any color I need. Adding green, purple, and orange will help even more." You pursed your lips, lightly tossing the paint tubes in your hands before setting them down away from the other tubes. "I need white also. Damn.."
"What's wrong with white?" Leon asked, leaning forward a bit to watch you dig in the drawer for a tube of white oil paint.
"Nothin'. Just forgot, is all. Trying to keep this as authentic as possible..." You mumble, quickly closing the drawer with a slam after pulling out the paint you were looking for.
Silently nodding his head in acknowledgment, Leon turned his focus to his surroundings again, admiring your choice in decor once more. He bought a nice decorative pillow for his couch yesterday after being here the first time.
You grabbed a few strips of thick white paper, running your thumb along its textured surface before setting them down. You told him to stay where he was as you set up a small art palette, little dollops of the paints sitting neatly in the circular grooves.
"I'm gonna make color swatches of your skin for myself." You spoke up as you suddenly turned and walked towards him, holding the palette in your left hand while holding the strips of paper and a small yet flat paintbrush in the right. "Also, I'll need to get a picture of you in the position you want, but I'll do that after all of-" you waved everything you're currently holding in a small circle. "-this."
Leon simply responded with an "oh, okay", his knee beginning to bounce as you quickly began to mix little bits of your paint together to get a simple pale skin tone down before you even attempted to match his.
As you worked, you were starting to grow nervous with the silence, and clearly the man in front of you was as well, given he had started to sweat slightly on his forehead. He wasn't nearly as conversational as the last two agents you painted.
"So.. you've earned yourself a portrait..." You smiled slightly, holding up the strip of paper you'd brushed your mixed paint on to see what colors to mix in next. "What'd you do to earn one?"
Leon hummed. It was hard to think about every mission he's gone on, all the horrors he bore witness to, the people he saved, the people he couldn't save, how it all started, and now the fact that he's done-
"Hey, woah, I'm sorry." The sound of your voice drew him away from his thoughts. "I didn't know that would be a.. sore subject for you." He blinked at you a few times, furrowing his eyebrows soon after. "What?"
You pulled the strip of paper away from his face, pulling your lips tight with a shrug of your shoulders at his response. "You suddenly looked mad. Like... really really mad. I thought you were gonna snap at me or-"
"No. It's just bittersweet, is all." Leon cut you off, waving his hand dismissively at you before nodding once down to the paint palette in your hand. "You can keep going."
You stayed frozen in your crouched position for a few seconds longer before continuing to swatch your paint. You kept silent, not wanting to seem like you were antagonizing him.
"I used to be just a cop." The man suddenly said, causing you to look up from where you were mixing your paints together. "Only for a single day, but I was a cop. Simple as can be."
You nodded, beckoning him to continue with a small smile, which he did. "I'm sure you've heard about some of that already though, since you worked with Claire not too long ago."
His comment caused you to let out a small "ohh" in sudden recognition, nodding your head again. "Yeah, that's right! She mentioned you on that, okay.."
Leon continued to talk about all of his missions vaguely, still having to keep confidentiality in mind. You let him drone on, having gotten his skin tone matched in a few different areas now. You stopped to scribble on the papers with the paint swatches, making sure to label where each tone came from on his face and hands.
You took note of how he circled back to his single day as a cop and to certain missions. His mention of saving the president's daughter had you immediately smiling. That was a straight ticket to earning his own portrait in that hall of the White House, he could've done just that his entire life and he still would've been seeing you at some point.
You focused on mixing your paint for a little while before noticing he had grown quiet, looking up to see him staring out the window, a faint orange glow from the sun rising highlighting his features. And his tears.
Growing concerned once again, you set down the paintbrush on the palette so you could place a gentle hand on his shoulder. It seemed he didn't notice that, too lost in his head to notice anything at this point.
"Hey..." You asked with a soft voice, your eyebrows furrowing with worry. "We don't have to talk about it anymore, you know..."
Finally, Leon looked back at you, eyes widening once he realized how watery his eyes were. He turned his head away so you didn't watch him wipe the tears that had fallen down his cheeks and use his sleeve to dry his eyes. It wasn't like him to be so easily bothered by this stuff.
"I just need one more color swatch and then you can go, okay? We can save the photo for another day." You gave the man a weak smile, one he didn't reciprocate. You understood.
He looked like he wanted to say something, but you filled in for him. "Seriously, it's no trouble at all. If you need more time then you need more time." Standing up from your crouched position, you left your half-finished color match swatch with the finished ones before walking over to set everything down on the desk.
You didn't want to crowd the poor man. That was probably the last thing he needed. Despite having only painted for a select few, you've learned to just step away from these retired agents when things would go awry. It was akin to a war veteran suffering from PTSD; they did almost have the same experiences as far as you could tell.
"I'm sorry."
Leon finally managed to say to you, his hands anxiously rubbing up and down on the tops of his thighs. Must be a nervous tick.
You angled yourself so you could see him while your body still faced the desk, smiling at him while your hands worked to neatly stack the strips of paper before clipping them together with a paper clip.
"There's absolutely no reason for you to apologize." You kept your smile as you responded to Leon, looking back down at your hands to make sure everything was put together properly. "You forget I strictly work with agents like yourself. From all the vague tellings, I know that the job is tough on you guys; body and mind."
It was weird having someone outside of the agency talk to him about this kind of stuff. It was weird for him to be bringing it up in the first place. Or, at least he felt like it was.
"Still, I should know better than to do that." Leon sighed, rubbing his hand along the side of his face before stroking his chin, scratching at the stubble growing.
"Know better than to do what? Let yourself process everything you've been through?" You spoke in almost a whisper. If your tone was any louder, you fear you'd come off as accusatory.
"I get it. Really, I do." Leon groaned quietly at your words, causing you to click your tongue. You grabbed your swivel chair and scooted it over so you could sit in front of him, and when you did, you brought your legs up to sit criss-cross just like yesterday, only there wasn't a table separating the two of you. You looked solemn. He didn't like where this was going.
"The whole point of painting you a portrait is to honor you and your work as an agent, but it's not just about getting yourself painted." You leaned forward in your chair, elbows resting on your knees, all the while keeping your voice hushed and gentle. "Seeing the portrait once it's finished is going to be an incredibly emotional ordeal. It's a reminder that this is truly the end of an era for you, Mr. Kennedy..."
Your words were really starting to strike a chord for Leon. He hadn't given it much thought. He didn't want to give it any thought at all. All he thought was "I'm just going to get myself a nice fancy portrait and be done with it". He didn't even consider what the portrait of him would actually symbolize.
"Oh." Was all Leon could muster, letting his gaze fall into his lap where his hands now sat clasped together. If it weren't for the comfortable environment you had set up here, he probably would've bolted ages ago.
You let him think everything over for awhile, wanting to give him all the time in the world. Clearly he needed something, but he wasn't allowing himself any sort of leeway.
It took some courage building internally, but you decided to stand up, taking the one step closer to him before placing your hand on his shoulder once more. You squeezed it a bit, bringing his attention back to you as he lifted his head up.
You attempted to smile at him, moving your hand off his shoulder so you could hold your arms out slightly. This man needed a hug and you were more than willing to offer the leeway he wasn't granting himself.
Leon stood up rather quickly which surprised you, and startled you just a bit, before feeling his large arms tightly wrap around you. It was a little awkward since he had to bend a bit to hug you properly, but it worked out in his favor, and yours too, since he got a better opportunity to bury his face into the crook of your neck.
He sighed happily when he felt your arms slowly wrap around his chest, doing your best to squeeze him for that extra bit of comfort, even rubbing up and down on his back. It had been so long since he had a real hug. It felt good.
You let him hug you for as long as he needed, which was longer than expected, but definitely not unwelcome by any means. Though, his warm breath against your neck and the smell of his cologne was causing you to blush. That's really the last thing you needed him to see after being so vulnerable and open with you.
You felt him start to pull his head away, prompting you to pat his back gently as an end to the hug. Despite the fact that it was faint, it was clear to you that he was blushing when you were finally able to look up at him.
You wanted to remain calm for Leon, letting out your nervousness through a quiet cough. "I know we've only met up twice, but if you ever need a change in scenery, just know that my workspace here is always open to you. I'm always open to you, okay?"
Your words were making him feel weird. Something he hasn't felt in a long time was creeping up his chest. Your smell lingering on his coat wasn't helping, either.
"Yeah-.. yeah, okay." Leon huffed through his nose, reaching up to scratch at the stubble underneath his jawline as he averted his gaze to the floor.
The sun was fully up now, so you walked over to where the light switches were next to the door, flipping them off. All your other ambient lights could be turned off later. For now, you needed to focus on the man still standing in front of that maroon chair.
"You can stay if you feel you need to, but I just want you to relax." You said, looking over at him as you heard his footsteps slowly walk past you to the living space.
"I'll head out." Leon bent over and grabbed his motorcycle helmet from where he'd set it down on the rug near the floor pillows. He placed his on his head as he walked over to where you stood next to the door, not really wanting anyone to look at his tear-stricken and red face any longer.
Once he finished fiddling with his helmet, you reached out and took his hand in both of yours, patting the top of it softly. "Text me when you're ready to come back over."
You couldn't see Leon's face anymore since he'd put the visor down, but you could definitely see him nod his head. He opened the door and let himself out, touching the side of the doorframe as he rounded the sharp corner and walked down the stairs.
After closing the door behind him, you started walking around your workspace to turn off all the lamps and other ambient lighting, pausing to listen to the sound of his motorcycle start up and drive off.
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wol-fica · 10 months
Text
-ℂ𝕠𝕟𝕗𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕚𝕠𝕟: ℙ𝕣𝕖-𝔹𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕤-
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pairings - wednesdayaddams x elemental!reader
summary - in which reader has a crush on a certain goth…
warnings - angst, pining, rude Xavier (sorry), happy ending
an - i miss writing for Nessy, so i think this would be a good addition to my bliss series; this is before they got together :) shit writing btw
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Shit.
That is the word you would use to describe yourself right now.
Mornings have never been your thing, you hated getting out of your warm bed just to immediately go and sit in a boring class for a ninety minutes learning about the anatomy of a mythical horse or whatever the lesson plan was. School was an agitator for you, but you still valued your education so waking up on time was a need-to-do.
Usually though, you at least get yourself ready and look decent enough for the day, but this morning was different. See, yesterday during lunch in the quad, you were writing the final draft of your confession letter to a certain raven haired goth. Your crush had been festering for a few months now, and you had decided to write a little something for her to let her know how you feel.
Everything was going perfect, you were just about done with the letter and was going to slip it under her dorm after folding it up, but a gust of wind ruined your whole plan. The letter flew across the quad and into the hands of Xavier Thorpe, who happened to despise you.
He read the whole thing in one go, snorted at it and stared at you with a little condescending smirk before walking it straight over to his friend group. Everyone, including Enid Sinclair, Yoko Tanaka, Eugene Ottinger, Ajax Petropolus, the twins Kent and Divina, and Wednesday Addams herself all read it collectively.
Xavier was laughing his head off while they did, and Kent joined in once he finished. Ajax chuckled while Enid giggled with a little blush of her face, Eugene looked confused to who wrote it, Yoko and Divina smirked and shared a look before squinting at you, and Wednesday just looked blank.
You watched in pure horror, your body shrinking into your seat while the whole thing unfolded. You felt sick to your stomach, and to top the whole thing off, Wednesday took the letter and crumpled it into a little ball, tossing it into the trashcan next to her.
Your heart shattered, mouth dropped open in shock. Xavier turned to look back at you, pointing and leaning on his knees while laughing at your expression. Tears formed into your eyes, and with one last look at the girl you so badly liked, you snatched up your things and ran.
Fast forward to now, where you just looked dead. Your hair was disheveled, there were dark bags under your eyes, and you barely made any effort to make your uniform look fit and well kept. Your tie was loose, your jacket was unbuttoned, and your shirt was wrinkled and dusted at the collar. You had no socks on, and you didn’t even bother to put a belt on your pants.
People stared in class, whispering amongst themselves while pointing at you. At one point, you thought you saw Enid shoot you a look of pity, but you shrugged it off to being your sleep-deprived brain playing tricks on you.
You looked depressed, because you were, and it did not help when you crossed Xavier in the hallway and he said loudly to Kent, “Looks like a dirtbag!”
You sighed, glancing up at the darkening sky before hurrying to get to the quad for dinner. You planned on eating, and getting back to your dorm as soon as you could so no one would have to endure looking at you any longer.
After standing in line and grabbing your tray, you trudged to an empty table and sat down, slumping in your seat. You were exhausted from lack of sleep and crying all night, and it wasn’t a surprise to you when you leaned your forehead against the table and tears started to form again. Your tray of food was left untouched while you cried to yourself, and the stare from a certain goth went unnoticed by you.
Wednesday was watching you, her black eyes burrowing into the side of your head while your body shook slightly with each painful sob you produced. She felt a weird feeling in her stomach, one of pity and remorse she didn’t understand. Her heart was telling her to go to you, to pull you into her arms and hold you close while she comforted you, but her stubbornness refused the idea.
“Wednesday.”
She turned her head away from you, choosing ti look at Enid now, “What.”
Enid sighed, glancing at you before looking back at her roommate, “You should talk to her.”
Wednesday furrowed her brow, “There is no reason for me to.”
“Yes there is.” Enid replied, bringing her fork to her mouth and chewing on a piece of steak.
“Just because she sent me a confession letter, doesn’t make me obligated to take care of her.”
“Wednesday c’mon!” Enid said, giving her friend a look, “You read that letter, she really likes you!”
Wednesday glared back, “And? I still see no reason for me to go talk to her.”
Enid sighed, glancing around before leaning in to whisper lowly, “What Xavier did was unacceptable and rude, you should at least make sure she is okay.”
Wednesday turned to look at you for a moment, the pang of guilt returning when she saw you had lifted your head. Your face was stained with tears, eyes heavy and tired from crying. You meekly picked at your food, not even bringing the utensil up to take a bite.
“I suppose I could check in to see how she is.” Wednesday murmured, her heart beating slightly faster at the thought of talking to you.
“You should.” Enid said, turning back to her steak, “It’s the right thing to-.”
“But her sadness is not my problem.” Wednesday finished, sparing you one last glance before picking up her book and continuing to read.
“Wednesday!” Enid exclaimed, “Really? You won’t even ask her how she is feeling?”
“She’s clearly sad Enid, I don’t need to ask to see that.”
“Wednesday.” Enid growled, gaining her roommate’s attention, “Go talk to her, now.”
“You cannot make me-.”
“I see how you look at her.”
Wednesday’s mouth snapped shut, her eyes locking with Enids.
“I see how you stare in class,” Enid said, “I notice how you have her schedule in your desk, and how you blush when she walks by.”
Wednesday opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
“You like her, it’s clear as day. But you can’t break her heart just because you don’t want to accept your feelings for her.”
Wednesday glared at Enid, practically foaming at the mouth in anger. She wanted to respond, a little clap back about how she barely even knows you, but nothing came forward.
“Go to her, before it’s too late.” Enid finished, nodding her head at your retreading figure as you left the quad.
Wednesday huffed, giving her roommate one last silent threat before slamming her book shut, stuffing it in her bag, and quickly following after you. Her steps were quick and quiet, not wanting you to spin around and see her before she could get to you.
She eventually followed you to your dorm, coming up the stairs right as you shut the door. Her breathing was strained, and her face was slightly flushed with color from moving so fast. She slowly approached your door, apprehensive and suddenly nervous for the first time in her life.
What should she say to you? How should she speak? Should she be defensive? Or should she just confess her own feelings and see how you react? The consequences of all the outcomes were dreadful in her mind, but she had no other option than talking to you.
So she did what she does best, lost all expression from her face, sucked in a deep, and knocked on your door. She waited an antagonizingly long moment before stepping backwards when the lock clicked.
The door swung open, revealing you in black sweatpants, a white tank top, and still looking as depressed as you were during dinner. You froze when your eyes locked with Wednesday, your lips parting and eyes widening when you realized who was in front of you.
You both stood there for a moment, the world seeming to stop while you stared at each other. Wednesday was waiting for you to move or speak, while you were thinking the same.
“Can-.” Wednesday swallowed, clearing her throat, “Can I come in?”
You closed your mouth, eyeing around behind her, and nodded. She walked past you, turning when you closed the door and locked it. Her eyes scanned all over your walls, taking in the movie posters and tapestries that you had taped up. She awkwardly placed her bag at the foot of your bed, choosing to sit on the end of it while watching you move around and clean.
“Y/N.” Wednesday said, slightly irritated with how you were trying to ignore her with doing a spontaneous house-keeping.
“Yeah?” You replied timidly, still sweeping over by your closet.
“Come here.” She requested softly, patting the spot next to her.
You gulped, your shoulders tensing before you dropped the broom and sulked over to her. You plopped down next to her, leaning back until you laid flat on the mattress while she sat next to you.
“I read your letter.” Wednesday said after a moment of silence, “It was…passionate.”
“Oh my god just say you felt uncomfortable.” You groaned, putting your hands on your face.
Wednesday paused, letting you ramble and complain about the incidents from yesterday’s lunch fiasco. She listened until she had enough, slamming her hand onto your thigh to silence you.
“I actually found your confession to be quite exceptionally written for someone like you.” She murmured, her thumb absentmindedly stroking your skin, “You should consider a writing class.”
You eyed her warily, skeptical of her words. Slowly, you sat up, trying your best to not cause her to move her hand, “You really think so?”
“Yes, and I also have some of my own things to confess…” The ravenette said, tearing her eyes away from yours to look at the floor.
You placed your hand on top of hers, a silent encouragement to speak her mind.
“I have realized that I myself have my own feelings I need to share.” Wednesday started, her hand twitching under yours, “It has come to my attention that I have gained something called a “crush” on you-.”
Her sentence was interrupted with lips crashing into her own, salty but soft and welcoming with warmth. She instantly reciprocated, her hands sliding around you neck while yours grabbed at her waist.
Her lips were plump and tasty to you, flavored like black cherries and stale burgundy lipstick from this morning. You pulled at her, guiding her into your lap so you could kiss her more properly. Her tongue slid against yours, a small whimper passing through your mouth and into hers from her hand scratching at your neck.
You soon parted for air, giggling when she chased you. She huffed, but sighed in satisfaction when you tucked your face into her neck, pressing a few kisses there that made her stomach all fluttery.
“Your heart is beating super fast.” You noted, hugging her closer when her fingers wound into your hair, “Do I make you that flustered-?”
“Be quiet.” She whispered, smirking when she heard you purring from her fingers scratching your scalp.
You complied, leaning back with her in your arms when she pushed you slightly. She murmured soft praises to you, guiding you into a deep sleep that you so desperately needed.
“Sleep Y/N.” She cooed in your ear, humming when your eyes fluttered shut, “I’ll be right here when you wake up.”
You felt your brain drift off into slumber, a smile etched on your face while you held the girl of your dreams.
What wonderful bliss…
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taglist: @cartierdreamx  @tundra1029 @red1culous @vorsdany @andsoigotabutterfly @theafterofnevermore @yomomisgay @house-of-lovin @slvt4lanadelrey @thenextdawn @nepobaby08 @dunohilly @somekindofpoet @alexkolax @cinffy23 @pedrosprincess @amberfreemansburntface @myfturn
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anystalker707 · 7 months
Text
A little show
Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x [gender-neutral] Reader Kinktober prompt: Obedience Tags: he's so lovely / masturbation / dirty talking (?)
KINKTOBER LIST MASTERLIST
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          You’d been sitting on a wooden box on the top deck during night watch for a few minutes—before that, you were up in the crow’s nest until you started to feel restless, deciding to wander around for a little. Night watches weren’t necessarily the most interesting thing ever, and it’d been a particularly agitated day that now faded into boredom; the crew had just left the last island by the beginning of the night, and most of them went to bed earlier than usual. You were busy observing the stars in the dark sky when footsteps brought you back to reality, but you didn’t look away from the sky. That pattern of steps was familiar.
Sanji soon came into view, holding a plate in hand. He smiled a little bit, eyes averting away once you looked up at him. He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, we couldn’t spend a lot of time together today. I prepared this for you.”
The plate that Sanji offered you had a small portion of dessert on it—one of your favorites. Your eyebrows raised lightly as you took the plate in hand, humming softly.
“Thanks, sweetheart.” You took the spoon in hand, taking a good look at the dessert before you could even try it. Sanji always put such dedication into the dishes’ presentation.
Meanwhile, Sanji looked around, scratching the side of his neck. There was no other box he could place next to yours to sit with you, and sitting on the barrel would leave you two too distant from each other. He also didn’t want to make you sit on the floor. A soft sigh escaped his lips as he knelt down on the ground and sat back down on his legs, kind of sideways so that he could be closer to you. His head rested on the thigh that was in front of him, his cheek pressing to the fabric of your pants. Your fingers ran through his hair, making Sanji let out a soft hum, closing his eyes for a moment.
“This tastes so good,” you said while eating the dessert and wrapping your legs around Sanji, hooking your ankles together. “I mean, of course, it does. No dish of yours is ever bad.”
Sanji felt his cheeks heat up at the compliment. “Thank you,” he mumbled. “I bought the ingredients for it while we were on that island. I’m glad you like it,” he mumbled.
“I love it,” you said, tasting until the last bit of it before carefully setting the plate on the barrel nearby. Your eyes fell on Sanji, and your heart fluttered a little at seeing him there, like this. “Missed me that much? We were just apart for a few hours,” you said softly, running your hands through his hair, gently massaging his scalp with your fingertips.
“Well, today,” Sanji mumbled. “I was very busy with dinner yesterday, so the most we did was spend time together when you sat at the table while I cooked.”
You thought back to it, slowly nodding. “Yeah, sounds like it.” Silence fell between you as you observed Sanji for a long moment, still running your fingers through his hair, taking in the image of him by your feet like that. It wasn’t the first time it happened, but it still made your chest warm all the same. You couldn’t help but press a kiss to his head. “Cutie,” you whispered, and despite only being able to see the back of his head, you could clearly imagine him blushing.
Sanji nuzzled your thigh gently, pressing his face to it. “‘Missed you,” he mumbled with his voice muffled. He turned his head a little, looking up at you through his bangs with such eyes that made something in your chest twist.
“I missed you too,” you whispered with a smile.
He shifted, folding both of his arms over your thighs and resting his chin on them. “Y’know, I really missed you,” he mumbled quietly. Even with limited lighting, you could see the red tone that took over his cheeks.
A sigh escaped your lips as you leaned forward a little, cupping both of Sanji’s cheeks to caress them briefly before running your fingers through his strands once more. “Yeah? How much?”
Sanji pouted a little bit, his eyes averting away for a moment again. “…I need you,” he whispered quietly. He moved his arms a little so that he could rest his head against your thigh again, pressing a soft kiss to it.
No answer came from you at first; you only observed Sanji, thinking about what you could do for him without spending a lot of your energy. Nami had made you walk quite a lot through the island earlier today.
“Show me how much.” You caught his attention again, his blue eyes observing you for context. “No one else is here. You can show me how I make you feel, or just show me what you do when I’m not around. You think you can do that for me?” Your forehead touched his as you leaned forward, hands on his shoulders.
“Oh,” Sanji muttered as he looked back at you, breath hitching in his throat. Just the thought of it was making him flustered already. “Anything for you.” The idea of putting up a show just for you was exciting, honestly. Just the fact that your eyes were following each of his movements was something meaningful for him, making a shiver run down his spine in anticipation as he leaned back to give himself some space.
You leaned forward with your elbows on your thighs, eyes fixated on him, watching it as he unbuttoned his dress pants and pulled the zipper down. He pushed his pants and underwear down just enough for his cock to be out. It was only half hard, but it wasn’t something that couldn’t be fixed with a few strokes as he hissed, feeling the cold night air.
“Slow down,” you said, noticing the excessive urgency in his movements. Of course, Sanji whined, but he still did as told to. “We have all night long, after all. Give me your hand.”
Sanji pulled his hand away from himself reluctantly. Nonetheless, the frown was replaced by a surprised and flustered expression once he saw you spit on his hand, making it a generous amount. He stared at his own hand for a moment and slowly wrapped it back around his cock when you motioned for him to rush.
It felt better, of course. Sanji’s hand slid against his own cock a little easier, and he knew the eventual pre-cum would add up and make it even better later. He observed himself for a moment before looking up at you, though he couldn’t really hold your gaze—it made his mind rush and his cheeks burn more as his eyes drove away from yours. Sanji’s breath started falling out of pace as he moved his hand faster; his movements faltered when he felt your fingers on his chin to gently turn his head towards you.
“I’d appreciate it if you looked at me,” you whispered, looking into his eyes. “I want to see your pretty face. You make such cute expressions, did y’know that? That’s why I prefer it when we face each other while fucking. So that I can see your pretty face.”
Sanji’s eyebrows knitted together, and he bit his lip, whining a little as he tightened his hand around himself. You let go of his chin and looked down, watching his hand firmly work around his cock—it was hard in Sanji’s hand, the flushed pink tip sometimes disappearing under his hand.
“That’s it,” you whispered with a smile. The view of Sanji on his knees, sitting back on his feet like that with his cock in hand and whining for you… That was so hot. His other hand clutched on his pants, resting over his thigh. “So good for me,” you said as your eyes met his again.
Sanji nodded, taking a deep breath through his nose and slowly releasing it through his mouth while twisting his hand around himself a little, right at the base. He was starting to leak; the thick fluid already dripping down his tip.
“Why don’t you give more attention to the head, hm?” You made a motion with your hand before you rested your elbow on your thigh and your cheek on your palm. “I know how much you like to be touched there,” you muttered while observing Sanji slowly run his finger over the swollen tip, spreading the pre-cum over it; his thighs quivered. “Your legs always go weak whenever I suck your tip, and you get very loud. It also makes you cum quickly when I lick that spot under your tip, isn’t it?”
Sanji let out a shaky moan, his thumb pressing to his slit to collect the pre-cum that escaped it before he was stroking his cock again. It throbbed in his hand. Quite a sight. He took a while, but he did nod in confirmation to your words.
“Yeah,” you muttered with a soft sigh, trying to take in every single detail of the scene. “Why don’t you give it some attention as well, hm? Come on, touch all the spots you like. Make yourself feel good, sweetheart.”
“Y—Yes,” Sanji said with a soft whine. He had to take a moment, stroking his cock in a slower motion, then he finally let his thumb wander to the sensitive spot under the head. A whimper, and he placed his free hand behind himself to lean back on it, his hips bucking a little into his hand. “Mmph, fuck,” he moaned. The new touch made his cock twitch more in his hand, also leaking more.
“You look so good like this,” you sighed, watching Sanji struggle each time more to keep his hips still.
“Can I—”
“Hold it,” you cut Sanji off immediately, in a way his words lost themselves in a whine while he squirmed, thighs quivering while he held the base of his cock tightly, taking deep breaths. “Are you that easy? Do you really get more sensitive just from having me watch you?” You clicked your tongue, shaking your head as you pretended to be disappointed. It had Sanji’s eyes traveling to the ground as his head fell a little, the way it did whenever he wanted his hair to cover his face. “I already told you, sweetheart,” you said in a partially soft tone, “keep your eyes on me.”
Sanji hummed softly, shaking his head to throw some bangs away from his face. It was basically useless; some strands had stuck to his skin because of the sweat.
“Please,” Sanji whispered as he started slowly moving his hand around his cock, but he kept a certain distance from the tip, focusing on its length.
“You can hold on for a little longer,” you encouraged with a nod.
He groaned in frustration, but he complied. Sanji moved his hand slowly, always careful, enjoying the little break he had without any order aside from not cumming yet. He looked down at himself, pressing his lips together as he traced the veins along the underside of his cock, making it twitch in his hand with how his fingers made their way up.
Sanji inhaled deeply, groaning as he slowly started jerking himself off again, pressing his eyes shut. His hand was all sloppy with his pre-cum already, making it slide just nicely along his cock. It felt even better now.
“Please,” he gasped, opening his eyes again to look at you.
There was no response. Your eyes were on Sanji’s cock, following his hand’s motions, without giving his words a drop of attention. He whined, thrusting into his hand.
“Please, (y/n), please… Love of my life, my sweetheart, my dear, my everything,” Sanji mumbled among moans. Sometimes, the words ran one into the other. How cute. “Please.”
“Yeah,” you hummed with a nod, “you can cum.”
Sanji gasped, letting out a breath he had been holding as he started jerking himself off freely. He bit his lip when he ran his thumb over his tip again, muffling a moan, but it didn’t do much. He wasn’t very good at keeping silent, as much as he tried. As if proving it, Sanji’s mouth fell open with a moan as he furrowed his eyebrows and he was cumming all over his hand and part of the deck, messily moving his hips to meet his hands’ motion.
“Mmph, my love,” Sanji gasped, continuing to stroke himself through his high until his thighs were twitching, edging the overstimulation, but not quite there. He needed a second to recover, resting his head against your thigh again as he tried to catch his breath. He knew how to seek affection.
A smile tugged on your hips, your fingers running through his hair, soothingly. “That’s it,” you whispered, “you did so well, sweetheart.”
Sanji hummed softly in acknowledgment, leaning into your touches. As you cupped his cheek, he turned his head to press a kiss to your palm.
.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.
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