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#I wasn’t expecting anyone to ask me any of the questions so thank you!
atlasdevalle · 4 months
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16 and 17!
16. First Tmnt movie/show I watched:
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I’m still fairly new to tmnt haha. I saw Mutant Mayhem in theatres because one of my friends have loved tmnt since she was a kid, so naturally it’s all been downhill from there. It’s such a fun movie and I love the colourful 2D-3D artstyle.
Very excited for TOTTMNT! I’m interested to see where they take the story now that the turtles are known to the world right off the bat.
17. Most recent show/movie I watched:
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I’m slowly making my way through 2003! Just started season 4 and I’m enjoying it a lot so far! I will admit I’m not always paying much attention when I watch tho, oops. I guess that means I’ll still have some surprises so see when I inevitably rewatch it
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yenqa · 3 months
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firsts
synopsis — sakusa and you have never had a conversation, and honestly you’re terrified of the man. but one conversation turns out to be many more of your firsts with sakusa.
warnings — reader is scared of men LMFAO, not really any
pairing — sakusa x implied fem!reader
wordcount — 710
a/n — happy birthday to himm! also my first hq post in a while OOPS also not proofread sorry!
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You’ve never really talked to Sakusa.
You had been the manager of the volleyball team since your first year–and you had known him since then, but for some reason, you haven’t talked to him unless it’s volleyball related.
In fact–you don’t think you’ve ever had a conversation with him. But there's a first for everything, right?
Itachiyama has made it to nationals (not like it’s a surprise), and everyone has just arrived. The room continues to fill with people you don’t know, so you decide it’s best to stick with your team so you don’t get lost.
Well apparently that was a horrible idea to everyone else. Because you’ve lost everyone but Sakusa. 
And you’re terrified. Surrounded in a room full of men you don’t know sounded like your worst nightmare, and you were living it currently.
Frantically scanning the room for anyone that’s not Sakusa, you somehow can’t spot any of the familiar bright yellow and green jackets your team is wearing.
Everyone knows that Sakusa doesn’t like to be bothered. But when you make eye contact with him, you change your expression to a way where he understands you’re pleading for help.
And he nods once.
Your mouth breaks out into a smile, and you shimmy your way to the crowd. Letting out a sigh of relief–you lean on the wall for support, muttering a small thank you to Sakusa. 
You don’t expect him to say anything back, but you can hear his muffled voice say, “You okay?”
Tilting your head slightly up to make eye contact with him, you smile as you say, “Yeah–I’m fine. Are you nervous?”
You’re not sure why you ask the question, he probably doesn’t want to be bothered. I mean–you were still kind of shocked that he let you even be near him.
“Not really. Are you?”
You’re even more shocked when he continues the conversation. You’d expect he’d be the most rude person if he didn’t want to talk. “I-uhm I am a little bit. But we’re exempt from playing today right?”
Yeah–this definitely is the first and last conversation you’ll ever have with him.
He nods.
Then it’s silent.
Surprisingly, the silence isn't the most awkward thing you’ve experienced. It feels as if you’re just two people co-existing.
You watch as everyone excitedly hugs each other or glares at their next opponent. One person even tries to rile up the other, eliciting a small chuckle from you.
From the corner of your eye you can tell he’s curious, but he hasn’t said anything yet. This time, you take initiative to point at the players, also describing the jacket colors.
And you swear you can hear him laugh.
Not a full–hearty laugh obviously, but a small chuckle. A quiet one that you don’t even notice. But it’s definitely the first time you’ve heard him do anything resembling a laugh.
“You laughed.” You blurt out, before you even realize. 
He furrows his brows, “I did.”
Your eyes widen, “Sorry–oh my gosh, it’s just the first time I’ve heard your laugh before, Sakusa-san. I swear I didn’t mean it like that–you just have a nice laugh–”
And now he’s actually laughing–like not even hard to hear.
He’s laughing, he’s hunched over, shaking and clutching his stomach. You don’t think you’ve ever felt more mortified in your life.
“It wasn’t that funny was it?” You ask, a frown on your face.
Sakusa catches his breath, “Funnier than any of the jokes Komori tries to make.”
“There wasn’t even a joke! And I happen to like the jokes he makes!”
“Only if you’re sick in the head.”
You scoff at his remark, “Wow, Sakusa-san, you’re very hard to please.”
“Kiyoomi.”
“Another complaint?” You tease, trying to play dumb at what he’s trying to imply. 
“Call me Kiyoomi.”
You can feel heat rush to your cheeks, you tuck your hair back behind your ear and mutter, “Okay, Kiyoomi.”
And even though he’s wearing a white mask, you swear you can see his eyes crinkle and you can assume the corners of his mouth turn up ever so slightly. 
You’ve had many firsts with Sakusa today. This is the first time you’ve seen him smile–just maybe next time he’ll do it while his face is fully shown.
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yenqa © please do not copy, steal or translate.
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slushycoookie · 4 months
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Kissing Practice ~ Miguel O'Hara × Spider AFAB! Reader +18!!
A/N: Had this short idea late at night so enjoy this little somn somn. ALSO, thank you for the 100 followers!!! I'm happy you all really like my stuff. <3 (Ignore the format, I'm trying out different stuff).
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Miguel froze, staring at you as the question you asked him replayed in his mind.
You wanted to practice kissing…on him. Out of all those days he spent pining on you, admiring you from afar, you go ahead and ask him this. He couldn’t believe it. He must be dreaming.
“I’m sorry…repeat that again.” He asked you, wanting to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating.
You rolled your eyes. “You heard me. I want you to help me practice kissing. For a guy I like.”
His shoulders deflated at that last sentence. Of course you weren’t asking to kiss him because you liked him. It was for someone else you liked. Not him.
“Why are you asking me?” He turned his back to you, pretending to go back to work and not be bothered by the pang in his chest.
“Because you’re my friend.” You maneuvered to get a good look at him, not wanting to be shut out. “And friends help each other with stuff.”
Miguel scoffed, the sound almost turning into a laugh. “Friends don’t ask other friends if they could practice kissing one another.”
“Not true.” You retorted, putting up a finger for emphasis, “Teenagers ask their friends all the time to help practice kissing.”
“We’re adults. Not teenagers.”
“I know. That means we’ll be more mature about it.”
His muscles tensed in slight annoyance. Your logic was terrible and didn’t make any sense at all. After all, why were you asking him out of all people? There were plenty of other spider people around your age you could run to. So why him?
As the lab was silent, you peered your face around to meet his eyes. “Come on. I wouldn’t ask anyone else.” He felt his shoulder getting poked by your finger. “I always think I don’t kiss that well. And I wanna get better at that. You seem like you have some experience…”
Miguel shut his eyes as he thought for a moment. This would get really bad fast if he didn't have any self-control. He always pictured kissing you, just not in these circumstances. But you were asking him. And you two were great friends. That’s exactly what he was doing. Helping out a friend.
“Fine.” His heart flipped at your squeal with joy, “Let’s do it now.”
You stopped at that, looking around as if anyone else heard him. “Right now?” He nodded. You weren’t expecting that response. Or for him to say yes. So you dug into the pocket of your spider suit, digging for something you said was very important. Your lip balm. The same one he’s watched you put on many times. How the red-colored product glided along your full lips. Adding a red tint to them. He had to resist staring at you directly, folding his arms as you smacked your lips.
“Okay. I’m ready.” You stood close to him, a small smile on your face. Your eyes were closed, lips puckered up and ready for a kiss. He stepped closer. Ignoring how the soft feeling of your body was against his. Miguel licked his dry lips before leaning down and pressing a small peck on your own. Hints of strawberry lingered around his nose while you blinked in question.
“Really? That’s it?”
“Yes. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
You sucked your teeth, “I said kiss, Miguel. Full on lip action. Not a little baby kiss.”
“That was a peck. Not a baby kiss.” He argued back, running his hand across his face.
“You heard what I said right? How am I going to learn from a peck?”
Miguel shook his head, stepping back into your space and placing a firm hand on your lower back. You were fully flushed against him as his other hand cradled your cheek. He leaned in and kissed you like you wanted. It was slow and gentle as he wanted to savor how you felt against his own lips. Kissing you like this was like the last time he was able to.
When he pulled away, your face was flushed. The red tint from your lip balm was a little faded, he was sure there was some on his lips. But he wanted to kiss you again.
“H-How was that?” You asked after clearing your throat.
Miguel shrugged, “You could be better.” Inside, you did perfectly. He didn’t understand why you needed practice in the first place. “We should keep practicing so you can get better.”
“Okay.” You nodded in agreement, “How does tomorrow sound?”
He had to hold himself back from smiling, “Tomorrow sounds great.”
Everyday he set some time for you to come into his lab and kiss him. It was only for ten minutes. Ten minutes of holding you close, enjoying your soft lips against his own. And then pulling away as if nothing happened.
There were times when you wanted to switch it up. Add tongue or a bite on the lip. Miguel was happy to oblige as you allowed his tongue to slip in, gliding along your own with fervor. Giving a gentle nip to your bottom lip whenever he pulled away. He took note of the sounds you made each time you kissed. And there were times he got carried away, his groans mixing in with your moans. And it took all the strength he had to not take it further. Because this was for someone else you liked.
“What about during sex?”
He almost choked on his cold coffee, “What? What do you mean?”
“You know, kissing during sex? I was never good at that either.”
Miguel’s talons were digging into the console. You weren’t suggesting…?
“You want to kiss during sex?” You nodded quickly and he took a deep breath. “That’s not…You should ask somebody else…”
You waved him away, “It’s just kissing during sex. No big deal.”
“It’s a very big deal.” He was over you again, chest heaving. But Miguel wasn’t angry. The complete opposite. He was making sure that you really wanted to do that with him. Be completely intimate. You didn’t back down, taking this entire conversation casually.
“There’s no one I’d rather do it with.”
Miguel’s lips rarely left yours. Not as he peeled your clothes away from you at his apartment. Placing you on the bed as if you were delicate. Even as he thrusted into you. Feeling your walls stretch around him as he kissed you with infatuation. He took everything from you. Your pleasant cries drowned against his embrace. He was determined to show you that the person you did like should be doing this to you. Not anyone else. Not even him.
He was emotional as he sat on the end of his bed. Miguel knew you all shouldn’t do this again. Especially after you tell this guy that you like him. He wondered who it could be. Who stole your heart before he could?
You shifted against him; eyes lowered in satisfaction. He stared at you as if you were in a dream. Someone he couldn’t get enough of.
“Miguel?” He hummed when you called, wondering what you needed. “You’re the guy I like.”
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subwaysurf45 · 1 year
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She’s Not Mad
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Summary: Bucky Barnes was a known people pleaser, it was second nature to him. After meeting you and getting close you both try to navigate his eternal stressed state, working together you try your best to tone down his obsessive ways. 
Words: 9k (if you’ve been wondering where I’ve been...)
Warnings: Bucky has mommy issues, mentions of oral sex, nudity, angst, fluff, college!bucky, slow burn
A/N: thanks for the patience! 
Masterlist
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A Couple of Weeks Ago…
“So, you’re not a thing?” Bucky asked as he shoved his laptop and notebook back into his bag, grabbing the handle of his water bottle and choosing to carry it with him for the walk. 
The two boys were higher up in the rows of the lecture hall as they peered over the two girls talking to the professor. Steve had his eyes drilled into Natasha, the girl standing off to the side as her friend went over a question she had. 
“She told me she is still figuring out her feelings since her last serious relationship,” Steve sighed as he packed up as well, “and I told her I’d wait- apparently this guy’s parents had given their family engagement ring and everything.” 
Bucky pulled the corner of his lips out tight as they began to walk down the stairs, “who’s the other girl?” 
“The one that was just asking the question is Y/N,” Steve watched as both girls left the room, “good friends, met last year, live together now.” 
“She’s cute,” Bucky said purely, no smirk or innuendo.
********
You sat over your laptop in the library with both hands acting as a brim to cover your eyes from the people around you. Tears rolled down your face as you studied the practice question, you felt pathetic and you tried to sniffle as quietly as possible. If anyone saw you silently bawling you’d drop out, it was stupid enough already when the librarian walked over and dropped a tissue box off without saying a word. 
“What do you mean?” you whispered to the page for the hundredth time, hoping for some answer. 
You had done the homework, you went to the study groups, you even extended your prof's office hours because you wanted to make sure you were doing everything right. Yet here you were, sitting alone on a Friday night because you still can’t do the practice assignment. Quitting felt like the only option, it wasn’t like everything was going to click; it was too late. 
This was just going to become the thing that you could never do, simple as that. Sometimes there are subjects that no matter how hard you try, you don’t have the flair. It was a tough pill to swallow but you’d never be able to do any work if you’d continue to hold yourself to a high standard, it was a win to get the little things right, not the entire question. 
The idea of failing was new to you. The jump from high school to college was still something you never adapted to, you always expected nineties on everything and not the mindset that C’s get degrees. 
Trying to do the question was like beating a dead horse, you needed a break. You ran your hands over your face and leaned back in your chair, hearing pops from your back as you did so, until you were leaning back and looking up at the ceiling. When you looked straight you saw someone already staring at you. 
He had longer brown hair that hit his jawline, blue eyes that jumped out at you, and a very concerned look on his face. He was familiar but you didn’t know what it was from. 
“Are you Natasha’s friend?” The guy came up to your empty table. 
“Yeah?” You wiped away your tears, extremely confused as he pulled out the chair right beside you to sit at the eight sided table. 
“I’m good friends with Steve, I think the two of them have something going on- not important, but I kind of know you and I'd rather not leave someone I kinda know alone crying, so…” he rubbed the back of his neck, “are you okay?”
“Do I look okay?” you rolled your eyes and faced your computer again, “the absolute last thing I need is something watching me cry, alright?” your bottom lip wobbled as you kept your eyes away from his at all times. 
He was still staring at you, “come on,” he sighed and moved his hand to comfort you but thought otherwise, “I’m not going to laugh at you or run and tell everyone I know I saw a girl crying in the library- y’know what they’d say?” You could see him tilt his head, “they’d say what’s the big deal, haven’t we all?” 
You scoffed, “no they wouldn’t.” 
“You’re calling me a liar?” 
“I don’t even know your name.”
“Bucky,” he stuck out his hand, “Bucky Barnes.” You shook his hand, “and since I am a Barnes and was raised by my ma I simply can not let this continue, it’s my obligation to either cheer you up or take you home.” 
You scoffed again and tried your best to hide your smile, “and I’m Y/N, and in my family we stress about everything and never give up so I can’t leave until I get this question, so…”
Bucky’s tongue poked the inside of his cheek as he flipped the laptop to face him a little better, “this is the class all four of us have together, alright,” he read over the question and immediately furrowed his brows before looking at you again, trying your best to hold it together. He knew the answer but couldn’t bear to see your reaction, it was painfully obvious you were beating yourself stupid over these questions. 
“Can you take a deep breath for me?” he asked like he was talking to a child. 
“I barely know you, dude,” you crossed your arms and ripped your laptop back to face you, “and I’ll have you know I don’t need a man to come in here and explain everything to me, alright, I’m going to figure this out on my own and I don’t need you, okay? So just head home, tell Steve I say hi.” 
Bucky took a deep breath himself, “that question isn’t marked on the homework, the reason you can’t get the answer is because the way to get it has most likely not been taught yet,” he paused and saw your face crumble, “and I didn’t want to freak you out because you look like you’ve been here a while and you seem to be beating yourself up and I just couldn’t-”
“Stop,” you whispered and covered your face with your hands, “just stop talking.” 
And he did. 
Trying your best to calm your breaths, it didn’t work. So fucking stupid, unbelievable, there’s no way you just spent close to an hour staring at a problem you didn’t even have to do in the first place. 
“Can you walk me home?” you squeeked. 
“Of course,” Bucky stood up right away and started helping you pack your bag, “I have some water, do you want it?” He held up his water bottle. You nodded and began drinking as you both made your way outside and towards your off-campus house. 
“Did you need to study?” you asked as you screwed on the cap. 
Bucky laughed and looked up at the night sky, “I was going for a walk because I heard there was a blood moon tonight, and there is, look,” he point up and saw the red mood looming above both of you, “and I just happened to walk past the library, I looked in the window and recognised your laptop as well as your hair, funny enough,” he laughed as he looked forward again. 
“So you just came in to see me?” you needed to make sure you were hearing this right, it’s not like it happens often. 
“I was going to introduce myself to you actually,” Bucky shrugged and looked over at you, “I know Steve and Nat are trying to figure things out and I thought friends of two people who might date should know one another. Then I saw you crying so I changed my game plan.”
You just nodded, slightly brushing into Bucky’s arm as you walked. It was hard to stay straight with the exhaustion taking over, every now and then you’d brush your knuckles past Bucky’s. He was a cute guy, and something about him being oh so caution around you made you feel important. 
“This is me,” you said later as you walked up the steps, “thanks Bucky, I hope we can be friends.” 
Bucky smiled and stood at the bottom of the steps, “if you ever get in your head again like that and need someone to pull you away, let me know- even in the middle of the night, alright?”
“Alright,” you laughed with your hand on the door handle. 
“I’m serious, Y/N. I look after the people close to me, I look after friends of friends like siblings,” there was no joking in his tone, it seemed other people doubted him on this promise. “I’ll give you my number,” he hand reached out for your phone. 
“I’ll be fine, you seemed to have good luck running into me,” you giggle and open the door to your house. Before it fully closed you felt resistance, looking over your shoulder you saw Bucky holding open your door. 
He was smiling, “then give me your number for another reason.” 
“Oh?” you turned and placed a hand on your chest, “you’re rather forward. 
“Well being cryptic didn’t work, did it?” He laughed and held out his hand again, “come on, I might need a study buddy one day- or even better, a lunch buddy.” you laughed as he tried to duck to meet your eyeline, “you don’t want to be my lunch buddy?”
“I’ll be your lunch buddy,” you giggled and handed him your phone, he wasted no time adding it in. “Goodnight,” you whispered and made it into your house, leaning back and resting against the door. You thought for a moment before breaking into a massive smile, replaying how he tried to keep eye contact with you. Or how he’d been so proud of how his mother raised him- “son of a bitch,” you whispered. 
He walked you back home and cheered you up. 
Just like he said he would. 
A Few Days Later…
Your phone must be hacked or something because your weather app said it would be completely clear today and sunny in the afternoon. As you sat in the cafe you thought it would clear up but it was only getting worse. 
All you needed to do was brave the rain and make your way home, but waiting for the perfect time when everything would let up for a moment was pointless. 
Walking as fast as you can with your head down, you saw your grey sweatpants become a darker shade instantly. It was a straight downpour with absolutely no sign of letting up, you swore you heard thunder when you waited at the crosswalk. Due to your phone lying to you, you had not brought a hooded article of clothing or umbrella so you just had to deal with everything going wrong. 
There definitely was thunder and the lightning was right above you, it seemed like you were the last person on Earth because everyone else was smart enough to stay inside right now; but not you. Down your little street you began to run, trying to get away from the lightning that was chasing you. 
If you could guess you’d say most people who had been struck by lightning most likely thought they were too far away, in denial as the sky opened up from above. It was hard to admit you were actually a little scared at that moment, rain getting in your eyes as you sprinted down to your house that was now in view. 
With your key at the ready you fell inside, slamming the door behind you. 
Natasha rounded the corner, “you idiot, I was trying to call you!” She screamed and saw your state, “Steve and Bucky are over-they drove over they could have picked you up,” Natasha got in your face to peel off the sweater, taking it off right over your head and leaving you in your bralette and those drenched sweatpants. 
“You took off my shirt when there’s boys here?” you whispered as you began to shake, covering your chest with crossed arms. 
“We guessed you were walking back so we put towels in the dryer,” as if on cue Bucky rounded the same corner with your fluffy towel ready, “thank you Bucky,” Natasha wrapped it around your shoulders. 
“Hi, Bucky,” you squeeked, “glad we keep meeting like this.”
Natasha had walked upstairs, most likely getting different pants. Bucky got down on one knee and slipped off your shoes, “like what?” he asked as he looked up, he reminded you of a little puppy somehow. He was as big as a great dane but there was an underlying softness that made you want to hug him or just let him wrap his arm around you. 
You huffed as you pulled the towel tighter, “when I’ve just done something embarrassing and you’re there to save the day.”
Bucky stood up with his arms crossed, “only you would think crying or getting caught in the rain is embarrassing,” he shook his head and reached out to rub your shoulder that was covered by the towel, “I like helping and I like making sure people I know are okay, you know this.”
“I do,” you whispered and walked further in your house. Before you could get anywhere near comfortable Natasha whisked you away to change your soggy pants as well as throw on a sweater, they had also been thrown in the drier, everything was very toasty and warm.
Steve was sitting on the couch, staring intensely at the football game going on. Natasha guided you back in and towards the couch. There was enough room for four of you but you knew thighs would be pressed up against one another, you were okay with that if Bucky was sitting beside you. Though you don’t see him often it was nice when you did even though you made it seem like it was embarrassing. Something about having someone who loves taking care of people take care of you so well caused you to crave it a little more. 
Bucky came around the couch with a mug, “hot chocolate for you,” he whispered and took the spot beside you, next to the arm rest. You thanked him and let your hand slightly burn on the mug when you held it, liking how the warmth began to spread up your arms. Natasha found her spot on the other side of you while Steve stayed on the edge, leaning forward and never looking away from the game. 
“This is really good,” you sipped it and whispered to Bucky, he just smiled and leaned into your side for a moment. 
“What were you working on?” he asked after a moment. 
“I was at the cafe for a little treat but before I was doing my elective course,” you spoke softly. It seemed like everything happened for a reason because you only got food at the cafe which left room for this hot chocolate now. 
“And that is?” Bucky giggled as he leaned forward again. 
“Art history,” suddenly, you were coy. Most people thought your elective was a bird course but to you it was actually interesting, it wasn’t often you were met with a positive response. 
His eyes got wide, “that’s sick!” Bucky readjusted himself off the couch, “I would have never even thought of that course, wow, that’s really cool. So, like, what do you-”
“Bucky, I love you, brother, I really do but-” Steve sighed, “can you please be quiet, this game is very important.” 
“I didn’t think the Big Game was on today?” you asked as you took another sip. 
“It’s not that,” Steve places his beer down, “it’s the State Cup Finals, it’s college football.” 
Natasha smiled and looked over, “his team’s the underdog and are actually on the road to winning the entire thing!” She giggled and linked an arm with Steve who was happy to cuddle up with her, “it’s actually very exciting once you learn the ins and outs of it.”
You just nodded and faced forward again, seeing Bucky out of the corner of your eyes rubbing his thumb on the neck of his beer bottle, staring off into space. The moment you leaned your head on his shoulder he looked over at you, your heart broke when you saw a sad smile. He was just trying to talk to you, he got excited for you and here he was being scolded. 
“Do you want to come look at some of my notes, or are you into this game?” you whispered and saw his eyes light up, both of you quickly stood and headed up stairs with your bag slung over your shoulder. 
The moment you walked into your room you felt everything slow down, Bucky slowly walked in and looked around. He was smiling to himself as he l took in your photos on the walls or posters, even your to do list seemingly growing on the white board you have mounted to one wall. 
You sat on the corner of your bed as he flipped through your notes, “so you’re, like, breaking down these paintings, it's not just the history of when they were painted?”
“Oh yeah,” you fiddled with the hem of your dry sweater, “most of these artist go insane and we look for that in the work or even just what was happening during the time with stuff that you’d learn in a normal history class but we look at if and when it get put into art,” this was your little thing you could talk about for ages, “very cool stuff.” 
Bucky nodded and flipped the pages, “your notes are amazing,” he whispered, “you’re a pretty good student, huh?” he looked over his shoulder and saw you sitting there, just staring at him as he made his way around your room. “What?” he giggled and made his way over to you, holding his hand out to get you to stand up. 
“Nothing,” you tucked your chin to your chest, getting coy at the attention. “You’re just…y’know, sweet.” 
Bucky just smiled and rubbed your arm, giggling as you both stared at one another for a moment. “Do you want to go back down?” 
“Sure,” you nodded and leaned forward, smiling as you both made your way back downstairs. 
The rain still worked its way down your windows as the beers and wine kept flowing. The game had ended a while ago but Steve and Bucky didn’t see a reason to leave, it was a good moment that no one wanted to end. You had finished your hot chocolate and moved onto wine, sipping it slowly as everyone talked. It was nice to be brought into this group even though it stemmed from Nat and Steve, there was good chemistry between the four of you. 
Talking to everyone was effortless, you didn’t need to act like someone else to fit in. no one was yelling over someone else to get their point across, there weren't any passive aggressive tones in anyone's jokes, it was carefree. It was relaxing to have people this easy to talk to. 
The only thing that wasn’t relaxing was the amount of times you caught Bucky staring at you. Everyone had migrated to the floor with their backs against different furniture so you could break out the board games, Bucky was sitting adjacent to you on your right and Steve adjacent on your left, Nat right in front. Every single move whether it be placing a card down or moving your little object around the board Bucky would find a reason to look at you. 
“Good one,” he’d pat your shoulder. 
“Let me move your piece for you,” he’d say before you could reach across the table. 
“Sorry…” he’d smile before taking your little object and moving it back four spots. 
He was very attentive, always watching and scanning. But the more you noticed it the more you figured out he was doing it to everyone, including Steve. Something happened whenever Bucky would either move Steve’s piece for him or go get another beer so he wouldn’t have to stand up, Steve would give this look. It seemed as though he was silently telling Bucky he knew something or he was pointing something out that had been a topic of conversation before. Bucky would try to laugh it off but Steve was very protective of Bucky, you just didn’t know why. 
The games had slowly come to a close, everyone not drunk but a little more than tipsy. Giggles flowed freely around the table as the conversation resumed again, your eyes were growing heavy as you traced the rim of your glass. 
“I’ll be back,” Bucky muttered as he headed to the washroom. 
The moment the door closed Steve sighed, “this kid.” 
“What?” you were getting protective, why was Steve about to talk shit about his best friend? 
Steve just shook his head, “It’s hard to see how badly Winnie fucked him up.” 
Your heart plummeted. Any tiredness had left your body faster than the little gasp escaped your lips. Who was this Winnie girl and why did he mess Bucky up? The thoughts circled your head, was he in an abusive relationship? Natasha looked like she didn’t know either, pouring more wine into her cup. 
When Bucky came back he sat closer to you and you couldn’t help but reach out and wrapped your arm around his. He must have been a little surprised but you rested your head on his shoulder and continued on like it was nothing. 
You were half asleep when Bucky tried to do something for Steve, maybe get him another beer but whatever it was it left Bucky looking like a sad puppy because Steve said, “Buck, relax, I can get my beers, thank you, but I got it, alright?”
Steve's tone was soft but also commanding, he wasn’t annoyed at all. With your eyes closed you pieced it together that Steve was trying to help Bucky in some way, maybe get him to relax a little more. It was out of love but Bucky was very quiet for the rest of the night. 
********
You and Bucky had started hanging out a lot more on your own. There were a lot of late night drives or study sessions, Bucky always came to the library to walk you home if you stayed late or had turned your brain into mush during your studying. 
What Steve had said stuck with you more than you thought it would, it didn’t impact how you saw Bucky but it made you more aware of his people pleasing tendencies. You wanted to do the same as Steve, tell him it was okay but you weren’t as close. You saw how hurt he was the last time and you just couldn’t do it to him. 
Currently you were both sitting on his bed, the movie was wrapping up. Half of his laptop sat on one thigh and the other half sat on Bucky’s, your arms were linked and there was a steady brushing of your thumb on his forearm. In all honesty, you thought you were lulling him to sleep when you looked up five minutes ago to see him fighting his dropping lids. 
When the movie faded to black both of you sat there for a moment, content with the sitcom that was coming up next. You looked up again to see him with his face scrunched up, his other hand was on his back. 
“What is it?” you asked and leaned over, he was rubbing a specific spot on his lower back with his thumb. 
Bucky held his breath as he leaned forward to move his hand, “I was working out this morning and there weren't any belts left for my deadlifts and I did something to my back.”
“Do you want a massage?” you offered, he’d do the same for you. 
“I’m okay, thanks,” he looked down at your head resting on his bicep. 
“I didn’t know you worked out,” you smiled, “you don’t have the, like, bodybuilder physique.”
Bucky laughed and wiped at his eyes, giggling to himself before answering. “I don’t want that look, but…” you could see the boast on the top of his tongue, he poked his tongue on the inside of his cheek. 
“Tell me!” you sat up, taking the laptop off your lap so you could fully face him now, “are you, like, ripped or something?” you both laughed as he hugged himself so you couldn’t feel or see anything, “you are, shut up!” you placed both hands on his shoulders, his face so red from laughing and embarrassment you just wanted to take a bite out of it. 
“Steve calls it a sleeper build,” Bucky managed to wheeze out, he was trying to play-fight you off of him. 
“What the fuck is that?!” you gasped as your hands reached out but he copied you and intertwined his fingers with yours. 
“It’s when someone has muscle but you can’t really see it in normal clothing,” his face was calming down as well, but that stupid smile was still on his face. “It just kinda happened, just how I am.”
You tried to move his arms around but you couldn’t, his fingers were still tightly woven with yours. You just laughed and fell back into him, cuddling up again. “I had a friend's mom who was an actual masseuse, so…” you shrugged, “I actually know what I’m doing because she’d give me massages and walk me through her process.”
“You just want to take my shirt off, don’t you?” Bucky taunted. 
“I want to make sure you’re not uncomfortable the entire time we hang out and for the rest of the week,” you giggled before snuggling into his arm again and watching the show that had come on randomly. 
It took three days before Bucky came back for that massage. 
You were hanging out again like normal and he was still trying to relieve the ache in his lower back. It was becoming sad to see him so uncomfortable so you kept reminding him of your excellent massage skills. After what you counted as his third groan of pain you just looked at him and soon enough he was asking you to turn around so he could take his shirt off and lie down. 
Choosing your angle to stand with your back to him was a science, you wanted to make sure you had the mirror to look at but you also didn’t want to make it obvious. Part of you hated yourself for wanting to catch and peek at his body but it was infamous now, you just had to look. 
And my god was it worth it. 
It wasn't an obnoxious amount of muscle that made it seem like the strength drained from his brain and into his arms. The sleeper build comment was right, you had no idea. His chest made you feel comfortable and protected, the kind of chest you’d want to fall into when the subway starts up too quick and you’re not holding onto anything. His arms were, and you already knew this, amazing at covering so much surface area for hugs. They were secure and trustworthy, you knew that when you hugged him he had you; it also helped to remember when he’d whisper it in your ear. 
“Okay,” his voice was muffled by pillows at the top of your bed. 
You turned around and were greeted by his back which was also an amazing sight, the kind of body sculptors would use and their go-to subject if no one else was there. “I have some lotion on my hands,” you warned and pressed your palms onto his back and quickly began spreading the lotion around. 
Though this wasn’t a proper table and he was resting on one cheek instead of face down you knew this was the best he’d get for a college kid. You started all over and slowly worked your way to focusing on his lower back. When you felt the knot you knew you found it, the thing was massive. The low groan Bucky let out was close to pornographic as you dug into him. 
Something about seeing him grip the sheets, making his veins pop out, did something to you. At first you only really saw Bucky as another friend or a good member of the friend group you stumbled your way into. But the more you spent one-on-one the more you realized he was your perfect guy. Any guy can be perfect physically but his personality enhanced your view for him, it made you appreciate his looks even more. 
His laugh always brought out the crinkle in his nose and those pretty teeth, the sound of him giggling was music to your ears and also was the perfect accompaniment to his squinted eyes or broad smile. The same with his little fist pumps he does when beating you at a game either around a group of friends of a video game, that stupid celebration he does every time causes him to flex his bicep but that’s secondary to the little circles he makes with his fist.  
You kept working away and looking at his rested face once in a while, seeing his eyes closed and the relieved look on his face. There was something so pure about watching the guy your slowly obsession over fall into simple relaxation all because of you, it was a treat. 
“How’s that?” you whisper, “Bucky?” trying to make sure your pressure wasn’t too hard for him you wanted to check in, but he had fallen asleep. With the opportunity in front of you, you reached out and placed your bent knuckles along his cheek, feeling the stubble tickle your fingers. 
You found him blanket on his bed and covered him up so he wouldn’t get cold with his shirt off, before leaving you placed a kiss on his forehead before heading downstairs for a snack. You also wanted to give him space, let him sleep peacefully. 
Steve was down there when you got there, another roommate of his cooking as you found Bucky’s section of snacks to choose from. 
“Where’s Bucky?” Steve asked as he looked over his shoulder, not for long due to the football playing on the TV. 
“Sleeping upstairs,” you ate the goldfish as you rounded the couch to watch the game. 
He seemed taken aback at your casualness, “what did you guys do…?” he slowly looked over, most likely trying to see if your hair was disheveled or anything was blossoming on your neck. 
“I gave him a massage,” you shrugged and fell back onto the couch, “his lower back has been killing from his workout a while ago.” 
You could see Steve look over his shoulder to see if his roommate was also hearing this, he looked over at you again and squinted. “So- and correct me if I’m wrong here- you gave Bucky a massage and put him to sleep and now you’re down here getting a snack?” 
“You would be correct,” you smiled, “would you like to do a once over of my neck for hickies or maybe rummage through the trash for condoms?” you sassed and plopped a few more goldfish in your mouth, “I was helping him.” 
That statement made Steve look over his shoulder again. The roommate just shrugged with a smile before heading down to his room in the basement, noodles steaming from the cup. You just looked at Steve as he tried to piece together everything, it was actually funny to see him try to understand. 
“Bucky doesn’t accept help from anyone,” Steve turned to face you, “it’s his thing to never want to be in debt with anyone when it comes to favours of any sort.” 
“Well,” you just sighed, “I’ve been picking up on that too but I got to him I guess, he let me do something for him.” That was all you could say because you didn’t have a full background of why Bucky didn’t accept help from anyone you just knew he didn’t; the only clues you had were Winnie and her role in this. 
“That’s good,” Steve quickly added, “I’m far from saying it’s bad, trust me, it’s just he’s been in a funk for a while when it comes to that stuff, it ebbs and flows.” 
“Do you think he’ll ever tell me?” you asked as you watched the game, too embarrassed of the question to look at Steve. It seemed there was this vital piece of information that made Bucky who he was that was dangling right in front of your face, you were falling for him but that thing that made him him was out of reach. When Steve first made the statement he siad that this Winnie girl fucked him up which implied something bad much have happened and that can also mean something isn’t necessarily right. You were never going to fix Bucky but you did want to understand so you could help be a better friend to him and not unconsciously get in the way of his mindset. 
Steve nodded, “he’ll definitely tell you,” he looked over and smiled, “I mean, you’re all he ever talks about, this kid is head over heels for you  it’s just…some guys have hard times coming to terms with their past, he’ll get there though.” 
“I know,” you nodded, “I’ll obviously never force it out but I do want him to be aware I’m here to listen, y’know?” 
“He knows,” Steve laughed and stood up, going to the cupboard and grabbing a little snack for himself as well. 
You took a deep breath before standing up and heading back upstairs, you were guessing Bucky was still fast asleep. When you opened the door you found him still laying on his bed in the exact same position, only now there was little snores coming from him. 
With a pout you crawled back onto the bed and sat next to him, placing your hand on his back and sliding it down to his arm that was bent up so his hands could rest under the pillow. Your thumb gently rubbed his arm for a moment before pulling out your phone and scrolling through it. 
The boredom ate away at you, instead of scrolling through your phone you went to his dresser to find some clothes you could change into so you could crawl under his sheets and sleep over. When you pulled open his top drawer you were met with his underwear and socks as well as a box of condoms tucked to the side, you just giggled to yourself at the painfully college male sight in front of you. 
Something about wearing his boxers made your face heat up, that was a level of intimacy you wanted to reach with him one day but you didn’t know if it was time. Looking over your shoulder after a particularly loud snore you smiled to yourself and picked up a black pair, as you held it up you remember seeing the waistband sticking out of his jeans while he reached above his head to grab something for someone - you weren’t focused on his actions at the time. 
Quickly slipping your pants off and pulling up the boxers you maneuvered to his closet, finding your favourite hoodie he wore very often. This moment of intimacy, moving around Bucky’s room while he wasn’t aware, caused a surge of confidence to shoot through you. Though you had never talked to Bucky about what the relationship between you was, you knew both of you could agree there was no room for girlfriends or boyfriends for either of you, this was the time to build the foundation for something better later. Having this idea of only being the girl in his room you took off your bralette and tucked it back in his top drawer, across from the condoms.
You didn’t choose this bra specifically but you were wearing a slightly lacey bralette, it was far from lingerie but the lace added something to it. Making sure you put it where it wouldn’t be obvious but also not hiding it, you grew giddy at the image of Bucky finding it. 
Before getting in his bed you tugged and tugged the sheets under his body before managing to get the covers fully out from under him. You scooted in and pulled the sheets up to cover both of you, it seemed he really needed the sleep because nothing was waking him up, not even the little hug you gave him before turning off the lights and falling asleep beside him. 
********
You were sitting in class aimlessly scrolling through your phone during your five minute break in your lesson, your art history professor was one of the best teachers you've ever had. She was funny but also well informed, she also had a big heart and didn’t need a eulogy as a form of proof if someone asked for an extension due to a funeral service that day. 
Bucky: What the hell is in my dresser? 
Without knowing the tone or context your heart dropped. You read the text with Bucky’s voice as if he was screaming at you, a hint of embarrassment in his tone. It was in your head, you didn’t know if it was a flirty tone either. 
You: Just my bra, when I stayed over a couple of nights ago I changed into your clothes and just absentmindedly put my bra in your top drawer. I probably was just going through the motions and thought I was at my place. 
Bucky: Can I pick you up from class, when does your lecture end?
Something about him completely disregarding your explanation - lie or not - gave you the worst feeling in the world. Ice poured down your back as you watched your prof make her way back up to the little stage she teaches on, you couldn’t keep the conversation going and just needed to deal with it later. 
You: sure, it ends in an hour. 
Bucky: I’ll be there. 
Part of you didn’t want to leave when your lecture was over, you stayed in the hallway for a moment and thought of every single end of the world situation that could happen in the car. Bucky didn’t seem like a guy who hit women but your anxiety didn’t let you leave out that thought. He also didn’t seem like the guy who’d reveal he’d been dating another girl the entire time but who knows, he could be in a three year long relationship as you stood there. 
With all these terrible situations playing out in your head you decided to face it head on, you’d walk in there and wouldn’t let him talk; just saying your apologies with your eyes closed before he could get a word out. 
You walked down the steps and to the right to find Bucky’s car parked in front, coming up in the blindspot. You took a moment to take a deep breath, opening the door and sitting down as quickly as possible. 
“Do you-”
“Bucky,” you put your hand out but kept your eyes casted down, “I am so unbelievably sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I don’t know if you already have a girlfriend and she found it and it caused a rift in your relationship, or if you like to sleep with other girls and one of them found the bra and got jealous so you lost your credit. I don’t know what made you angry but please, I am so sorry for what I did, I wasn’t thinking and I just put it in there and I-...” you just held your mouth open as you looked at the center console, you had run out of things to say. “Um,” you slowly looked up to see him frozen in shock, mouth still slightly open from when he began to say something, “sorry, you were about to say something?” 
Bucky had to physically rattle his head to get out of the shock he was in, “do you want to get some coffee?” 
Your eyes flicked up and it was your turn to stay frozen, “what?” 
Bucky pulled his brows together, “I was making a joke about the bra thing,” he seemed concerned at your extremely anxious state, “I don’t care what you leave at my place, I really don’t,” normally someone would laugh in awkward situations but Bucky didn’t, it felt like it made everything worse. “Do you want coffee?” 
“What is going on?” you couldn’t believe the situation you had put yourself in, nothing was making sense. 
“Don’t get all mad at me,” now it was time for him to scoff, “you’re the one that thought I was sleeping with multiple women while I’m actively pursuing you, you idiot.” 
“Don’t call me an idiot,” you huffed and faced the front of the car, crossing your arms after putting on your seatbelt. 
Bucky laughed as he reached over and turned your face so you’d look at him, “that’s what you took from that statement?” He giggled, “babe, I just said I was pursuing you, does that just fly over your head?” 
“Wait, what?” you grew more interested, “you want to date me?” 
Bucky nodded, “have I not made it obvious?” You just shrugged and began to feel small, curling yourself further into the seat of his car, “I would like to take you out and I would like to continue to collect little pieces of you at my place while doing the same to yours, does that make sense?” 
“Then what were those condoms for?” 
“The same reason our house keeps tampons in our main bathroom,” Bucky put the car in drive and began working towards to coffee shop, “if you ever need a tampon you go and grab one, if Steve ever needs a condom and he’s out of stock in his room he comes to me,” Bucky looked at you at the stop light. 
“Oh,” was all you could say. 
“But let me get a few things straight,” Bucky placed his hand on your thigh, “I’m not sleeping with other girls, I do not have a secret girlfriend, I am not mad you left your bra in my dresser and I tried to make the text seem flirty, and finally,” he went at the green, “I really like you and I would like you to be my girl whenever we get there.” 
“Okay,” you whispered, “I’d like that too.” 
“Then it’s settled,” it was a short drive to the cafe, “let’s celebrate over coffee, shall we?” 
You looked down at his hand on your thigh, “yeah, we shall.” 
********
Your body felt like it was floating, your legs tingled and it was hard to catch your breath. As you laid on your back with your hands on your bare stomach Bucky worked his way back up from between your legs while leaving kisses on your hip bones as well as your stomach when you lifted your hands. 
“How was that?” Bucky asked breathlessly, licking his lips before kissing you. 
You kept your answer waiting, probably because he knew it already, kissing him slowly as he wanted. He was fully in control right now, setting the pace and tone of this entire afternoon. When he pulled away for a moment you complimented him like always, your hands reached up to his shoulders and tried to push him to lay on his back but he stayed strong. 
“Flip over,” you whispered and ran your hands down his chiseled stomach, working your way up to his shoulders as your fingernails raked up his back. 
“I’m all good,” he shrugged. 
“But you’re painfully hard,” you tried again to get him to move but he just fell beside you on his stomach, not allowing you to touch him where he was in fact, extremely hard. “Come on, you always do this.” 
“Don’t worry about it,” he smiled and pulled you down with him. 
“I just want to do something nice for you, you never let me do anything for you or give you any favours,” in your head it seemed like a normal observation, it was true that Bucky didn’t let anyone do anything for him while he actively tried to help everyone in anyway he knew how. 
That seemingly struck a nerve, “alright then,” he sighed and got up from the bed, heading into the bathroom as he left you naked and alone on his bed, the most lonesome feelings in the world. 
“Where are you going?” you sat up, grabbing your shirt from the edge of the bed. 
“Going to go jerk off in the shower,” he said as he closed the door. 
“You can’t be serious,” you quickly stood and made your way to the bathroom that was connected to his room. You opened the door to see him already adjusting the tap before starting the shower. “Bucky, it’s the truth, it’s who you are but it’s the truth and as your girlfriend I want you to feel good, I want to give you pleasure like you do to me.” 
You reached forward and placed your hands on his back, slowly working your way to his shoulders so you could turn him around. There looked like shame had overtaken him as he stood before you, though he was larger in size he shrunk himself down to look small. His mouth opened and closed a couple of times, he didn’t know what to say. 
“If I can’t give you head then can I come in the shower and wash your hair?” you didn’t even put on the shirt you grabbed, it was dropped to the floor. “Come on, honey, it’ll feel so good.” 
Bucky only nodded before stepping into the hot shower with you. You made sure he got most of the stream on him, you stayed in front and made sure his hair was soaked before getting any product. You could see his tenseness at first but the moment your hands made contact with his scalp his eyes rolled back, his shoulders relaxed. In that moment it occurred to you that you had actually never seen his relaxed state before. 
“Doesn’t this feel good?” you whispered, making sure you used your nails to really cleanse his scalp. “Doesn’t letting yourself relax and breathe feel so good, Buck?” 
“Yeah,” it came out quiet and broken. 
Your eyes were focused on his hair the entire time, making sure you lathered up and took your time. You needed to savor this moment for both you and Bucky, you wanted him to be relaxed for a s long as possible as well as taking advantage of doing him a favour; never knowing when your next opportunity would come up. 
Gently tapped his forehead, you got him to lean back. The water immediately took off the top layer of suds but you needed to rub out the deeper layers as well. Your fingers scrubbed until the trail of water rolling down his body was pure water and had no shampoo in it. 
“I’m going to- oh, my gosh Bucky,” you reached out and saw his red eyes, “when did you start crying?” 
“I can’t remember,” he whispered and tilted his head down, the water pushed his hair to cover his eyes. 
You pushed his hair back and pulled him out a step further so the water hit his back, your thumbs quickly wiped away a mixture of water and tears off of his face. He couldn’t stop crying as you tried your best to keep his face clear, “honey, what’s wrong?” 
“I-” he choked on his own words, “I’ve never let my guard down this much,” he admitted before breaking off into harder sobs, you swooped in and pulled him tightly against your chest. 
“I know it’s a new feeling,” you whispered, “but I want you to be able to do this all the time, let your guard down around me,” it was a shot in the dark by saying this but you did it anyways, “I promise I won’t hurt you, I’ll never take advantage of your guard down, love.” 
It must have struck something because his knees buckled, his hands gripped tighter as he desperately kept you close to him. You didn’t know if you were making him feel better or worse but the act of letting go was needed for him, you kept holding him until there was nothing left to cry. 
When he pulled away he stayed close, close enough that you kissed him under the gentle rain of the shower and played with his hair at the base of his scalp. His hands stayed on your back and held you close to him, making sure you were always touching him in some way. You tried to get a good read on him but he kept his head low and gently ran his hands up and down your sides, just feeling you. 
“You’re very safe,” you whispered. 
Bucky looked up at you for a moment before keeping his eyes down for a while, his brows pulled together and it seemed like he was trying to say something but didn’t know how. Both of you were open and vulnerable, naked in the hot shower. Tears threatened to spill over at the picture of Bucky crying in front of you. 
“It was my mom,” Bucky whispered, “the one who broke me-”
“You’re not broken,” you quickly corrected, cupping his face and stroking his cheek with your thumb, “don’t say that.” 
Bucky just shrugged, “I’m the oldest, I have four sisters younger than me - all different dads.” Bucky took a deep breath and pulled you closer, “my mom…Winnie was an interesting woman who never wanted to be pregnant but somehow always ended up pregnant anyways, it also didn’t help none of the guys wanted to stick around.” 
You wrapped your arms around his neck, giving him the easy opportunity to hug you if he needed to. Nodding along, you encouraged him to keep going. 
“When my mom realized I could do the dirty work she would take advantage of that. I basically raised my sisters and somehow she managed to worm into my head,” he let out an angry laugh, “she’d say she loved me if I did things for her and I was a bad boy if I couldn’t or wouldn’t help her, she would say I didn’t love her if I didn’t change my sister’s diapers or bathe them while she sat on the couch.” 
“Bucky,” you were the one to instigate the hug, “that’s awful.” 
“And I’m aware of how I act now, all I’ve ever known is helping other people to make sure they love me,” he laughed again, “and it sounds stupid but I can never break out of the cycle, I always think I’m doing a good job or not being overbearing but then I start to second guess myself, you know?” he pulled away and looked at you, you quickly nodded. “I start to think about what people are saying behind my back and so I keep doing what I’m doing to stay on the safe side, I know it’s fucking annoying but I can’t help it.” 
“It’s not annoying, baby” you leaned past him and turned off the water as it grew cold, “and if you’ll let me I can help with that, I don’t want to fix you or change you, I just want you to be comfortable in this relationship and not think I’m secretly mad at you because you didn’t get me a glass of water.” 
Bucky nodded, stepped out of the shower with you and grabbed two towels. The conversation had naturally ended, Bucky didn’t have anything else to say. It was hard not to think he was overthinking again, the idea that you were causing him to stress out stressed you out. You were being truthful when you said you wanted him to be relaxed in this relationship, the last thing you wanted was underlying tension. 
Back in bed Bucky rolled over and cuddled into your breasts, holding you closely as you watched his head rise with your breath. You had no idea if he was asleep or not, you knew he wouldn’t mind either way if you played with his hair. 
“Thank you,” was all he whispered before falling asleep. 
********
You all sat around the couch to watch another big game. Though you had no idea what was going on you were just as into it as Steve. Half time had just started and you all took a collective breath, the two college teams were close. 
“Want another beer?” you asked as you stood up, looking at Bucky who was sitting on the couch. Steve and Nat had already filled up, you wanted another cooler and Bucky was almost done. 
“Yeah,” he quickly downed his final sip of beer before handing the bottle off to you. 
There was this anticipation in the room, you smiled and took the bottle and walked past Steve who was already looking at Bucky. The room seemed still when Bucky didn’t move, just pulling out his phone to look at something while the commercials played. Before making it into the kitchen you looked over your shoulder and saw the back of Bucky’s head, you bit your lip to suppress the smile that was growing. 
The moment you got back and sat next to him Bucky took your hand and pulled it into his lap. He fidgeted with your finger before looking over at you, “how’d I do?” he whispered. 
You laughed and leaned into his side, “how much did that make your cringe?” 
“I was in pain for a moment,” he answered as fast as possible before giggling with you as you clink your glasses together and take a long swing. With a deep breath he looked back at the game and kept your hand in his. Bucky must have not been paying attention but his phone buzzed, illuminating and accidentally showing his lockscreen. 
It changed from the photo of the two of you to a black background with white writing on it: 
Trust me, she’s not mad at you.
********
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interstellarflare · 6 days
Text
A Cinderella Story || Anthony Bridgerton
-PART FOUR-
Summary: Have courage, and be kind. Words that you tried to live by ever since the passing of your parents. Though your step-mother and step-sisters did everything in their power to hide you and your status away from the rest of the Ton, you never expected to catch the eye of Viscount Anthony Bridgerton himself.
Authors Note: This is my first Bridgerton series! I had an absolute ball writing this, and I hope you enjoy it! There is a tag list open if anyone wishes to be kept updated for future parts. Gif by @catalinabaylors
|PART ONE| |PART TWO| |PART THREE|
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Sooner than he would have liked, the time to leave for Lady Danbury’s ball crept up on Anthony. Truth be told, he really wasn’t looking forward to tonight.
Eloise still wasn’t speaking with him, at least politely anyway. She would glare, scoff in annoyance every time he opened his mouth, and often snapped a snide remark in reply to a question.
Anthony could see that his mother, Violet, was incredibly uncomfortable with the whole situation. She had warned the two of them to sort out their differences before arriving at Lady Danbury’s residence, otherwise the two would be an embarrassment to not only themselves, but the Bridgerton House. Even if was only just for the night.
The carriage jostled about along the cobblestone street, with Violet, Eloise and Anthony sitting in complete awkward silence. Anthony could feel his sister’s glare burning holes into his head, the tension weighing heavily as his gaze moved to settle on his mother. Violet looked between her two children nervously.
They were to be at Lady Danbury’s residence any second now, appearing before the ton in such a state was not a good look for anyone. “Now I don’t know what is bothering the both of you, but you two need to resolve this matter quickly. You are both the face of our family tonight-“
“Mother-“
“Enough! I have never seen the two of you bicker like this before, it is unlike you both. Now I suggest that you settle this matter here and now, before we are to arrive” Violet snapped, glaring harshly between her two children before her. All Anthony could do was sigh. He heard Eloise scoff, shifting uncomfortably beside him as she grumbled “Fine. I will play nice for now, but you need to actually open your eyes-“
“Open my eyes to what!?” Anthony exclaimed, turning his body to face her fully “You had told me nothing! What exactly am I supposed to be looking for here?”
“It is so plainly obvious, even Colin could figure it out”
“Then why don’t you tell me!?” Anthony shouted, hearing his mother sigh heavily across from him.
Eloise glared, clearly uncomfortable with where this conversation was progressing. He noticed that her hands had now clenched into fists by her side, her eyes falling to the carriage floor. “I…I cannot, I am sworn to secrecy-“
“Oh for the love of-“
“Oh thank god, we’ve arrived…” Violet breathed nervously, fixing her cream and gold patterned dress as she adjusted her gloves anxiously. Both Anthony and Eloise fell into silence, anger bubbling in his chest as he continued to stare at his sister.
Something was going on, and it irked him to not know what it was. He felt the carriage stop, and turned his gaze towards his mother as she quickly exited the carriage and breathed a deep sigh of relief. Next was Eloise, who cleared her throat and fixed her skirts as she moved toward the carriage door, but Anthony stopped her. He gently grabbed her forearm, stopping her from moving as she quickly turned to face him, a furious expression on her features.
“Does this have something to do with Y/n? The girl we met this morning?”.
He’d been wanting to ask that question since their return home, since Benedict had bothered him all afternoon about his feud with their sister. If this was supposedly about you in some way or another…why? He knew that you and Eloise were close, good friends even. But what did Eloise, and supposedly Colin know that the rest of the ton did not? What was going on in the Worthington household?
The way Eloise’s expression softened confirmed his suspicions, she sighed heavily. “I can say no more, but I will say this to you, and I want you to think about it…really think about it. The ton knows that Lady Worthington married Lord L/n upon his late wife’s passing, and she adopted Lord L/n’s daughter alongside her own. So, think on this dear brother…what happened to her?”
Anthony froze, his brow furrowing as he though on Eloise’s words. He hadn’t thought about it really, no one had seen Lord L/n’s daughter since his passing. He’d heard rumours that she had run away in grief, leaving behind her family estate and fortune to Lady Worthington and her daughters. He remembered he’d only seen her once, he’d attended one of Lady Danbury’s balls as a child with his mother and late father. He had been quite nervous being amongst all those people, but he couldn’t take his eyes off a young girl about his age, perhaps a little younger, dancing with some of the men and women at the ball.
She had the brightest smile, and a contagious laugh. It was only after the ball upon their return home that Anthony had asked his father who that girl was. Upon hearing that it was the daughter of Lord L/n, he’d hoped to see her again. But he never had.
Violet stuck her head back inside the carriage, glaring at the two of them harshly. “Will the two of you get out!? People are watching!” She exclaimed in a hushed whisper, urging the two of them out with her hand. Eloise forced her arm out of her brother’s hold and stepped outside, smiling forcefully up at her mother as she tried to appear happy.
But Anthony was stunned. He felt rather uncomfortable now, unsure of what to think or do now with this knowledge. It irked him, made his stomach churn uneasily as he stepped out of the carriage and fixed his jacket. His eyes met Eloise’s once again, and he couldn’t help but feel sad. He entered the ball by her side, his arm looped through hers as they moved about the crowd of people. His mother had disappeared to speak with Lady Danbury, he could see the two on the other side of the room gossiping to themselves happily.
He felt as if he was in a trance. Amongst the dazzling light of the chandelier and the multitude of candelabras strewn about the room, he couldn’t focus. The sounds, the surroundings, everything was blurring into one big mass. He left Eloise for a moment, allowing her to mingle with some other debutants while he chose to escape outside for a moment of fresh air.
He felt sick, an uneasy feeling settling in his chest. It had only been an hour since their arrival, but all Anthony wanted to do was leave. He couldn’t think straight, couldn’t actually come to terms with what Eloise was suggesting…if she was even suggesting that in the first place. He took a deep breath in, now turning back to face the congregation inside.
He couldn’t go back inside, not after seeing Lady Worthington and her daughters enter the room with an extravagant pose. Upon seeing Lady Worthington, dressed in a deep blue gown with golden shawl draped over her shoulders, Anthony jumped the small balcony and landed in the gardens below. He fixed his jacket, releasing a quick breath as his eyes quickly darted around to make sure no one had seen him.
Though…he had to be the most unfortunate man at the ball tonight.
“What the hell are you doing!?” Benedict exclaimed in a hushed tone, a confused yet furious expression on his features.
Anthony flinched, lifting his gaze upward and giving his brother an awkward grin.
“Cover for me”.
“Excuse me!?”
“Just…be there for Eloise…” Anthony groaned in annoyance, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly “…I have some business I need to take care of-“
“Don’t you dare leave me here with…” Benedict growled, his entire form freezing as he heard the shrill voice of a woman call out to him, one that Anthony couldn’t help but snicker at “…that.”
“It would appear that Miss Mary Worthington requires your presence, dear brother. Perhaps it is I that will enjoy your misfortune instead-“
“Oh, oh ha ha ha…” Benedict snapped sarcastically, glaring down at his older brother with annoyance “…you’re such little bas-“
“Give my sincerest apologies to our mother, and I shall see you upon my return home!” Anthony called out as he spun on his heel and jogged away, laughing quietly to himself as his brothers’ pleading cries faded into the distance.
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antiquarianfics · 17 days
Text
Accidental pt. 2
What happens when you accidentally kidnap the exact man you were looking for?
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pairing: mob!bucky x reader
warning(s): canon level violence, kidnapping, profanity
a/n: the comments on the last pt. were so affirming, omg. thanks, guys. anyway, here's a second part. ig the same idea stands: if this does well, maybe i'll do a pt. 3?
part 1
»»———-———-———-———-———-———-———-««
"You're looking for a man by the name of Barnes, James Barnes. He's the owner of the bar you took me from, and he's the head of the Barnes Family. He'll have the answers you're looking for."
"Where can I find him?"
The man grins, a dashing smile.
“I’m right here, Doll.”
Somehow, against your instincts, you manage not to take a step back. You keep your feet planted in front of the man, eye twitching a little, jaw clenching.
“You’re James Barnes?” You say, voice devoid of any real emotion.
“Disappointed? Looking for someone less handsome?” He shoots you a cheeky grin.
You scoff. “More like I wasn’t expecting to kidnap a mob boss.”
James laughs, a genuine laugh. “No, I bet you weren’t. However, I do have to say, I’m impressed. Not just anyone can take me by surprise.”
“How long?” You ask, ignoring his praise.
“What?” He raises an eyebrow.
“How long until your men come looking for you? I expected more time, but with you being in charge…” You trail off.
“Ah, yes.” He glances down at the very expensive watch on his wrist. “Well, if it’s 11 now, I’d say… ah. 7 hours before anyone notices.”
You raise an eyebrow. “That long? Really? Are you sure you’re important?”
He grins at you, a dashing grin. You shake your head slightly. You shouldn’t be thinking about his smile right now--you shouldn't be teasing him.
“Very. But my people know not to bother me at night. What I do on my own time is my business. You’re in the clear as long as I show up on time to my meeting. If I’m not there... Well, then people begin to worry.”
You let out an involuntary laugh. “In the clear? You're telling me I’m going to get away with kidnapping you? Actually, don't answer that. You're baiting me, and distracting me. I need answers. Back to my sister. Where is she?"
"I was wondering if you'd forgotten about that."
"Answer the question," you say, stepping forward and putting your knife back up against his throat. It seems to do the trick.
James' face grows serious, as if the man in front of you was no longer playing around with you and had switched into his regular business persona.
"She's alive."
You let out a relieved breath. Alive is something. Alive is good.
"Where are you keeping her?"
"Well, doll, I can't just tell you that."
"Sure you can," you say, repeating your words from earlier.
He smirks, "Why don't you just take the knife away from my throat first? I'm precious goods."
You roll your eyes at him, but you pull the knife away. You hold the knife up to him as if to say I will pull this out again and set it down on the table a few feet away, and as you turn around, you pull a chair from the same table up to James, placing it right in front of him. You sit, an expectant look upon your face.
"Look, doll, why don't you just go ahead and untie me now that you've put that knife away, and we can have a friendly talk about this?" He asks.
You scoff, yet again. This man, you think, is insufferable.
"Try again, pretty boy."
"So you think I'm pretty?" He smirks.
"I think you're annoying, and I think you know where my sister is. So, how about you stop wasting my time and tell me what I want to know?"
He sighs dramatically and lets his head roll to the side as if he's bored before lifting it to look you directly in the eye.
"Like I said before, she owed me something she couldn't repay."
"What's that?"
"That information's gonna cost you, sweetheart."
"You're in no position to be negotiating right now," you say indignantly.
"Sure I am. Don't forget I'm the most powerful man in Brooklyn."
"Don't forget you're tied up and I have a gun."
"You wouldn't shoot me."
"Fucking try me, doll."
He laughs, a real, genuine laugh. "Agree to my terms, sweetheart, and I'll tell you anything you want to know."
You huff. "What are your terms?"
"'Atta girl!" He exclaims cheerily.
You grab your pistol from its holster at your side and aim it at the man in front of you, resting the gun on your thigh. He glances down at it before raising his gaze back up to you. He clears his throat, but something tells you it's not because he is nervous.
"Go on a date with me."
Your eyebrows shoot up. He's joking, you think. A date?
"A date?"
"A date."
"You want to go on a date with the woman who knocked you out, dragged you to an unknown location, tied you up, is demanding information from you, and is currently pointing a gun at you?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"I have my reasons."
"How do I know you won't just kill me when I show up?"
"Because that wouldn't be very gentleman like of me. My mama raised me better."
"You're a mob boss. You extort and kill people for a living."
He shrugs. "Well, what do you say? Do we have a deal?"
"No," you say.
"No?" He asks, confused.
"I have my own conditions." James tilts his head slightly as a signal to go on.
"You've already confirmed that my sister is alive which confirms you have her locked up somewhere. You will let her go and forgive her debt for whatever the hell it is that she owes you. Do that and once she is safely at home and I've laid eyes on her, you can have that date. Do we have a deal?"
James is staring at you, and as much as you hate it, you can't read him. Your heart is pounding, and you're hoping, praying even, that you've not pushed too far.
"Deal."
You blink once, twice before it registers that he has accepted the deal. Damn, you think, he really wants that date.
"Have her home by... What time was your meeting again? 7? Have her home safely by 7 tomorrow," you say, standing up from where you sat in front of him. You begin to move around the basement, picking up your things that you had brought with you in the whole kidnapping ordeal. Once you've collected your things, you start walking towards the stairs to leave. "If she isn't there, the deal's off."
"You're just going to leave me here?" James asks, pulling at his arm restraints.
You look over your shoulder at him and smile at him. "You're a mob boss, doll, I'm sure you'll get out of there in time." Then, with that, you ascend the stairs.
»»———-———-———-———-———-———-———-««
@cjand10 @vicmc624 @mostlymarvelgirl @livingoutsidethetardis
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mokulule · 6 months
Text
Take Out for Dummies - Part 3
Aka Danny has been hired to take out Red Hood, there may or may not have been a misunderstanding.
First | Masterpost
Jason had carefully checked their surrounding for cameras, but they ended up doing as Danny had suggested, sitting back to back each with their own collection of various meats and vegetables on sticks.
Danny groaned and leaned his weight back against Jason. “What is it about food on a stick that makes it so delicious?”
Jason chuckled, “I don’t know.”
It was simple fare, charred just the right amount from the grill and spicy in a way that warmed.
There was a moment of silence.
“You have a very nice voice, you know? Like I get the voice modulation is meant to be scary and all and it makes sense. Just… you have a nice voice.”Jason swallowed. He wasn’t sure why his throat felt so tight all of a sudden.
“Thanks.” He didn’t know what else to say.
They finished eating and Danny jumped up with renewed restless energy, still turned away from Jason.
“Tell me when you’re decent.”
Jason snorted as he pulled the helmet back on and it came online. “I’ll show you indecent.”
Danny squeaked. Jason turned around to find him hiding his face in his hands in embarrassment. At least Jason wasn’t the only one with the dirty thoughts.
“Alright-“ Jason peeled one of Danny’s hands away to hold it, “show the way. Are we breaking in?”
“Uh-“ Danny looked from Jason to the hand, his cheeks were dusted a very becoming pink - turnabout really was fair play. Finally he seemed to come back online as he shook his head.
“No, I have a key.”
Jason grabbed the trash bag in his other hand as Danny was still carting around his unicorn.
“Why do you have a key to the ice rink?”
“I do maintenance here sometimes, so I asked to borrow the rink for tonight.”
“Are there anyone in Gotham you don’t know at this point?”
“I’m sure there are plenty still,” Danny answered the rhetorical question as he opened the roof access door. Why that was the door he had a key to was another question entirely. Though they may of course just all use the same key.
They went down a stairwell and out into the cold hall with the frozen rink as centerpiece. Jason eyed Danny’s thin button down shirt, if he’d planned this why hadn’t he brought a jacket?
“There’s skates over there,” Danny pointed to the skate renting counter on the left side of the room. “will you grab me a pair of size seven skates, while I turn on some music and lights?”
Jason did as asked jumping the counter. There was a convenient trash can behind the counter where he could dump the bag.
When he returned to the main hall with skates in hand his eyes widened. When Danny had said turn on the lights he hadn’t expected them to be from those multicolored disco balls, nor for the music to put them back to the 70’s with an upbeat disco track.
“What do you think?” Danny yelled from where he ducked out from an operator room.
“It’s something alright,” Jason yelled back as he sat down on one of the benches and started pulling his boots off. He snorted as he realized something: if this was still an elaborate hit, Danny would be the type to love the double pun of taking out Red Hood by putting him on ice.
Jason didn’t actually think this was a hit. Hadn’t thought so in quite a while. He’d let his guard down.
Danny walked over with that small smile on his face that made Jason wonder if this was just his base state; just happy, enjoying himself, doing his little odd jobs, helping kids out for pebbles because he could, taking Red Hood out on a date.
Jason still didn’t know what to think about that. Like even if he genuinely thought whoever asked him to take out Red Hood meant on a date, there was still that logic break where Danny had decided, yeah sure sounds like a fun time, let’s just corner the former crime lord current vigilante on a rooftop in the middle of the night to ask his date preferences.
Danny was definitely not normal in any sense of the word, but Jason found that he couldn’t help but like that. Some good kind of crazy in this city for once.
“Never been to a skating disco before?” Danny asked when he within easy speaking range.
“Can’t say that I have.”
“Well not that there’s really any expectations here since it’s just the two of us, so we can do whatever.” Danny grinned, sat down next Jason and pulled his shoes off. He was in his skates and jumping to his feet in no time at all. He wobbled, and windmilled his arms so as not to fall and Jason had to grab him and steady him.
“Are you sure you have tried this before?”
“I’ll have you know I’m a great skater.” Danny sniffed, brushing Jason off, as he started awkwardly walking towards the rink in his skates.
“Just not at walking in them.”
Danny sent him a bewildered look. “Nobody is good at walking in skates.”
Jason rolled his eyes and tightened and tied off the last lace. He didn’t jump up carelessly like Danny, instead he rose and took careful steps. While it was indeed neither comfortable or normal to walk on the bladed edge of the skates, he did make it seem a great deal more natural than Danny had.
Danny stuck out his tongue at him for that and Jason couldn’t help but laugh.
“Yeah yeah, laugh it up. Join me on the ice and we’ll see who’s laughing.” With that he stepped onto the ice in a languid, confident glide, that immediately made it clear, that Danny did indeed know how to skate.
But Jason was no slouch either. He could skate even if it’s been a while and he never said no to a challenge. It took a moment for Jason to get used to the ice below his feet, but he quickly gained both speed and confidence.
Danny caught his eyes then with a wink, turned, and built up speed in a few quick glides and then he was jumping off the ice, spinning in the air and at what seemed like last moment he landed on just one leg, the other leg stretched out behind him as he leaned forward in something almost like a bow.
Okay so it turns out Danny couldn’t just skate he could skate. As in he could do not just spins but flips - Jason could do flips fine on the ground; he was not quite Dick enough to try it on ice. Of course Danny was also being a little shit about it.
There was something about that smile he was sporting that made Jason just want to reach out and grab him - and do what? He wasn’t sure. But there was an invite to try and catch him in the way he glided around Jason, responding to Jason’s movements by darting away like a fish only to come back, but never close enough to reach.
Jason smiled. Okay, he would bite.
When next Danny passed, he lunged. Danny shot forward with a delighted laugh. Jason wasn’t far behind him, but Danny’s turns were needle point sharp as he lead Jason on a merry chase across the ice. He was slippery as a fucking eel, the way he kept himself just shy of Jason’s fingertips every time he reached for him.
He was doing it on purpose too, Jason realized. He was letting Jason get close only to twist and turn and escape with a laugh and leave Jason to regain the balance he lost by lunging. Jason didn’t immediately pick up the chase this time.
“What’s the matter Hood? Can’t keep up?”Jason huffed. No, he couldn’t. That much was clear at this point. But that didn’t mean the game was over. It only meant Jason had to work smarter not harder. He stuck his hands in his jacket pockets and started on a leisured circuit of the rink.
“Did you skate a lot as a kid?”
Danny came into Jason’s field of view, skating backwards effortlessly. There was a slight pout on his face at the interrupted game, but he answered Jason’s question, “Not really.”
“Huh, how did you learn to skate then?” Jason asked surprised.
That wiped away Danny’s pout and Jason felt a twinge of anticipation for what surely boded another fun story, but nothing could have prepared him for what actually came out of Danny’s mouth.
“I was taught by a yeti named Frostbite, he’s like my mentor in everything ice.”
“A yeti?” Jason spluttered.
Danny grinned in a way that showed he knew exactly how outrageous it sounded, but still kept his voice perfectly even when he said, “yes, it’s their national sport.”
Jason laughed. He couldn’t help it. “Uh huh, and where did you meet this yeti?”
“A place called the Far Frozen, not many people have heard of it. They tend to be rather reclusive.”
Danny didn’t falter one moment in his explanation. He either had a selection of stories he told or he was extremely good at improvising. He was also suddenly within reach, guard down as he thought Red Hood had given up on the game.
Jason lunged. Danny’s eyes widened comically as he realized his mistake and tried to backpedal, but it was too late. Jason had him wrapped in his arms. They both went down overbalanced from Danny’s struggle. Jason twisted them so he took the brunt of the fall. Danny didn’t deserve to be caught beneath 225 pounds of vigilante even if he’d been asking for it.
They laid there on the ice catching their breaths.
“Bastard, you caught me.” Danny finally spoke giggling like he couldn’t believe it.
“Yeah, you shouldn’t have-“ Jason stopped, finally noticing how cold Danny was. “You’re freezing!”
“No really it’s fine-“ Danny protested as Jason pulled him back up, but Jason wouldn’t have it.
“Who forgets to wear a jacket when going skating,” Jason grumbled pulling his jacket off and wrapping it around Danny shoulders. It looked comically large hanging off Danny’s small frame, but Jason only gave himself a small moment to appreciate it before drawing Danny close again.
It took a moment but then Danny relaxed into the hold.
“How’s this? Better?” Jason asked after a while.
Danny looked up his eyes wide and blue and maybe a little overwhelmed. “Y-yeah.”
Jason frowned looking around to locate the bench where their shoes were. “We should probably get out of this cold.”
“No,” Danny said immediately pressing close, then flinched, before saying quietly, “can we just stay like this for a bit?”
Jason blinked in confusion. It didn’t make sense to stay in the cold, but he found himself agreeing quietly.
The music at this point had turned to quieter songs. Jason was starting to feel the cold himself by staying still, and he started to sway to the music, moving just a little across the ice. Danny looked up. He wiggled around and it took only a moment for him to actually find the sleeves and push his arms through. Jason let go to let him and soon found his hands captured in still cold but no longer freezing hands.
“Dance with me?” Danny asked.
Jason couldn’t say no to that, but “I’ve never danced on ice before.”
Danny grinned and glided back in close, getting them positioned for a waltz. “It doesn’t have to be right, but you lead and I’ll follow and make sure we don’t fall on our asses.”
Jason scoffed as he lead them into a glide that had Danny moving along mostly backwards on the ice.
“You don’t trust me to follow.”
“No,” Danny grinned, “But I do trust you to catch me.”
Jason rolled his eyes fondly behind the helmet. Then dipped Danny suddenly to make him prove it. There wasn’t a hint of struggle, he stayed relaxed in his hold as if they’d danced together like this a million times. Jason didn’t know what to do with that, and pulled him back up.
Jason didn’t know how long they danced. Danny had started talking quietly after a while admitting he hadn’t gone on a date since he went to high school, and got Jason to admit he liked reading. but he did know his feet were starting to hurt. Still he was reluctant for it to be over.
It was only when Danny failed in hiding a yawn they left the rink.
-
Jason rolled the bike to a smooth stop putting one foot down to keep balance. He let go of the handlebars and straightened up to allow Danny to get off.
However instead of getting off Danny took off the helmet, hung it on a handlebar and twisted around bringing his legs up until he faced Jason and could wrap them lightly around Jason’s waist. Jason’s mind went blank at the way it brought them closer, the only thing keeping the position somewhat decent for the public was the unicorn now squished between them. If Jason now wished he’d never won the thing, that was a secret he was taking to his second grave.
“So,” Danny said conversationally, wrapping his arms loosely around Jason’s neck, leaning his forearms on his shoulders almost thoughtfully, “I had fun.” He smiled. “I hope you also had fun, that was the whole purpose after all.”
He paused - maybe waiting for a response, but Jason didn’t even know what to say. He certainly wasn’t going to admit he had fun. That was- Red Hood wouldn’t do that. He’d already behaved way too much like himself tonight.
There was a momentary frown on Danny’s face before it smoothed out replaced by a soft smile, that Jason had no idea what to do with. “This is the point where a successful date is usually rewarded with a kiss - you can say no?”
Jason stiffened.
Surely he wasn’t going to?!
Danny leaned in, his smile turned wicked for a moment as his hands splayed out on either side of the helmet. Jason needed to stop him, but instead his traitorous hands landed on Danny’s waist.
He needed to push him away; he didn’t.
Danny’s hands tightened on the helmet, pulling-
Except he didn’t pull the helmet off, he just pulled Jason closer and tilted his head backwards and then pressed his lips to the helmet, right were his mouth would have been. It was chaste, but not just a quick peck. No, it was a slow and languid press in a way that made Jason all too aware that there was little more than an inch between their lips, but it might as well have been miles for the barrier between them. Slow in a way that made Jason’s breath catch in his throat and his treacherous brain wish Danny had removed the fucking helmet.
Danny drew back, his blue eyes practically sparkling in mischief and he lightly bonked his forehead against the helmet before twisting around again and jumping off, Jason letting him reluctantly.
“See you around, Hood.” Danny waved once before he started walking down the road, unicorn plushie under one arm, utterly unafraid to walk the most crime ridden streets of Gotham in the early hours of the morning. Presumably he was going home to his mystery residence.
Jason should follow him. It was the perfect time to find out more about the mystery that was Odd-Job Danny. It was why he’d agreed to the date in the first place. Right?
Instead his brain was going around in circles, wondering if he had pulled up his helmet when Danny first mentioned the kiss, not pulled it off of course, just up to his nose or so, would Danny have gone through with it? Would he have actually kissed him? Or did he only do it because he knew the helmet was there in between them?
Did Jason want him to kiss him?
Fuck. He did.
Danny was gone now, nowhere to be seen. Whatever chance he’d had of figuring out more was gone. And yet that seemed the least of Jason’s problems.
-
So that's the end of the date, though of course not the end of the story. Consider commenting or writing something in the tags if you liked it, things irl are gonna be very busy for the next year so I could use all the motivation for writing I can scrape together. You can subscribe at the masterpost for future updates. Next
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wutheringcaterpillar · 2 months
Note
Hey! I’m wondering if you’d be willing to write a fic where Thomas is intending for John to marry Y/N to unite the Lees and the Shelbys like the show, but when he sees her the first time, he changes his mind on John marrying her. Instead he marries her
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Warnings: smut, loss of virginity, altered storyline, Tommy’s a sweety, p in v , oral if you blink, altered storyline, name calling, slight misogyny
thank you for the request, hope you enjoy!
Tommy and John were sat awaiting your arrival, expecting you any moment now. John went on and on about how you were back in grade school, none of that really mattering to Tommy in the slightest.
The door opened, a brisk wind rolling in, pushing your hair in front of your face, your innocent vanilla scent flowing into the booth, as you flipped your hair behind your shoulder.
Tommy shifted uncomfortably at your beauty and grace. Your tone was soft, and a smile as bright as the sun, he couldn’t allow his brother to marry you, not with a face like that. 
Dropping your bag near the booth, Tommy couldn’t take his eyes off of you, helping you pick up your belongings from the floor. When you thanked the man for helping, you locked eyes with him, an immediate attraction being drawn to you from those crystal blue eyes.
“Thomas Shelby, pleasure to meet you.” When the handsome, intimidating man spoke, a thrill of attraction and desire rushed through your veins like a hurricane, time suddenly seemed to be irrelevant, along with the man you were arranged to marry.
“Y/N L/N. Likewise.” He motioned for you to sit, offering one of the many cigarettes he carried in his suit. When you declined, mentioning how you don’t smoke Tommy was stunned and intrigued. 
Everyone smoked in the garrison, it was hard to find a woman that didn’t. 
Taking your seat beside John, you straightened your back, folding your hands gracefully, fully prepared for any questions that may come your way.
John smirked, glancing down at the clear cleavage, your bra barelt holdimg in you breasts, he nodded toward Tommy to take a glance but he’d never disrespect a woman in that manner. He simply began conversation, asking where you lived, went to school, even personal things such as a family matters. He was a fair man, offering the same respect back, his voice brooding but in a good, hospitable way.
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“John, do you mind if I take lovely Y/N here to the bar and make her a drink.” John hadn’t barely heard Tommy speak as he was joking around with Finn. Simply waving you both off, they chattered on, making you contemplate on whether or not John was fit to be a husband.
Tommy noticed the quizzical expression on across your face, intending to turn that frown into a smile. 
“What’s it going to be my dear? Whiskey? Gin? No, something is telling me you are a rum and coke girl?” His eyebrows raised, furrowing together in curiosity with the expectation and hopefulness that he was right. You couldn’t contain the rose petal blush paint your cheeks, glancing down in embarassment and moving a wild strand of hair behind your ear.
“How’d you know?”
“Just a lucky guess. Some say I’ve been gifted with the ability to read people. You seem like a smart girl Y/N, what type of hobbies do you indulge in, surely everyone has at least one.” Settling your purse down, you watched as he worked effortlessly behind the bar, topping off you drink with a whip cream which surprised you, most people found it odd, never having seen anyone do so yourself.
“Oh I- I enjoy reading, and occasionally shopping, a girl can never have too many clothes.” Tommy chuckled, staying behind the bar and lighting a cigarette, in that moment he knew you were too good for John. He wasn’t a saint himself but he wad far more mature and caring compared to his little, reckless brother.
“Well from my perception, you look very endearing, and well, stop me if this is too much but you’re quite beautiful Y/N, my brother’s very lucky to have you.” You waved him off, giggling like a school girl but Tommy never took his eyes off of you, entranced by your illuminating smile, and adorable laugh. There was a silence for a moment when you realized that perhaps Tommy felt the same way you were feeling. The goosebumps on your skin, the heart beat between your thighs, trying to evade the temptation, the profound want to be in bed with that ever charming smile, and angelic blue eyes, and those lips, those plump, pale lips that you wanted to kiss right there.
How was this powerful man already under your skin in such a small amount of time, was it the way he took interest in your life? The way his subtle gaze seemingly never broke away from you? Or perhaps his way of words, speaking with finesse and confidence, never once stuttering.
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John approached the bar breaking the evident friction between you two. Your smile faded when he wrapped his arm behind your shoulders, pulling you in closely to his body heat.
“How’s everything love? He isn’t scaring you is he?” You shook your head no, staying quiet and biting your lip attempting to hold back from laughing when Tommy raised his eyebrows challengingly, playfully as if he wasn’t making you more comfortable than his brother. 
“Alright well, Arthur and I are going to go to a few pubs, see what kind of trouble we can get into tonight before the big night, if you know what I mean Tommy.” He winked at his older brother who didn’t seem the least bit impressed. Had he really just said that right in front of you? Reassuring you’d be alright here and be heading home in a little bit, Johnny bid you both goodbye, finishing off your rum and coke on his way out. How rude.
Scoffing, Tommy made you a new drink.
“You’ll have to allow me to apologize for my brother he can be quite- What’s the word I’m looking for? Oblivious sometimes.” A wave of relief washed over you when you were alone with Tommy once more, even the patrons in the bar clearing out for the night.
The palpable tension in the room magnetized when his charismatic eyes remained on you, the heat building beatween your legs, but you weren’t going to be the one to just come out and say it. Like Tommy always did best, he took the initiative, clearing the silence.
“Do you want to fuck me, Y/N?” He raised his eyebrows expectedly, his eyes searing into your soul as he handed you your drink, his fingers grazing over the softness of your fingers.
Stunned by his question, you couldn’t deny the electric current of desire running through your veins. Your eyes searched one another in question, the intensity of his dominance protruding you very being.
“I-I suppose I would but- I must inform you I’ve never really-“
“There’s no need to fret Y/N. I’ll go slow, I wish to spend as much time with you as I can, if you’ll have me that is.” Were you really about to do this? This wasn’t the girl that you were but Tommy was so enticing, and held a clear attraction toward you. You’ve heard many stories of Thomas Shelby, yet you found yourself following him out to the car as he held an umbrella over you, not looking back once.
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As soon as the bedroom door closed his lips were on you as he hoisted you up onto the dresser. Hands caressing your bare thighs while your legs wrapped around his torso, melting into his fiery touch. He tasted of whiskey and mint, smelling of a subtle yet timberwood like scent. Your tongues collided with one another in disparity, your nightgown strap sliding down carelessly in the process. 
“You are an enchantress, my darling.” You unbuttoned his shirt, pushing yourself up as you walked one another still embraced toward the bed.
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Unclasping your bra, Tommy relished in that sight of your bare, nude breasts. They were everything he had imagined, soft, rounded, delectable enough that he couldn’t waste another moment with having his lips on your enlarged nipples. Sucking the sensitive skin, lapping his tongue repeatedly as you moaned from the touch.
“Feels good Tommy. I need more. Please.” Begging already? You felt pathetic but didn’t care and neither did he when he pulled you onto the bed.
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“Your wish is my command, love.” He layed you down gently on the white sheets, your hands skimming his muscular chest as he fumbled hastily to take his shirt off before diving back into your lips with a deep desire. 
His eyes never left you, drawn into the perfection of your skin, the way your nude body gleamed poetically beneath him in the dim light. 
“Are you sure you want to do this? I don’t want to-“
“Yes. Yes I’m sure I don’t want to waste another minute, I need you in me Tommy.” That was all the reassurance he needed to hear. When he undid his belt and tugged his pants down his member popped up, perky and ready. He was long, and rather wide, partially shaven, but that didn’t matter to you. Tommy could see the nervous worry in your eyes when they landed on his cock, but he needed you to understand he wasn’t one to rush such a big, personal decision.
Laying his hand caringly on your cheek, he looked into your eyes, demanding your attention so you knew he wasn’t kidding.
“I know it may seem a bit frightening but I assure you, we go at your pace. If you want me to stop tell me, okay?” You nodded, and then again when he motioned toward your white laced panties. When he slid them down your legs, you turned your head in embarrassment, always holding a tremendous insecurity for your appearance downstairs. Tommy on the other was blown away at the sight of your untouched pussy. 
“May I?” You nodded for him to continue, fully trusting him. His tongue glided between your wet lips, devouring your sweet rose, taking you by surprise and shedding the insecurity from your skin. “You have nothing to be ashamed of love. It’s perfect, and tastes exquisite.” You blushed as he continued to eat you, waiting for your nectar to slowly seep out, for him to start prepping you. When his finger entered you there was a slight discomfort, you’d never gone down there yourself but Tommy took his time and focused on your body language. After a few moments he entered a second finger, your tight walls surrounding his digits, coating them with your slick. There was a slight pleasurable feeling from feeling so full. He fingered you for a few minutes until he deemed you ready.
“Are you ready love?” You nodded that i was okay, and he kissed you once more reassuringly. He was slow upon entering, his cock aligned with your gaping, eager hole, the head resting there for a few seconds so you were aware of what was to come. He slowly pushed his head in, protruding your virgin walls, inch by inch. He stopped halfway in when you winced in pain, wanting to give you time to adjust.
“Focus on my voice. The pain will dissipate soon, tell me when you want me to go further.” After a few seconds, you relaxed your muscles, nodding for him to continue. When he was all the way in there was a sharp shot of pain from being stretched from his cock and your cherry now being popped.
Your eye fluttered close as he slowly pumped in and out of you tenderly, taking his time until you were comfortable for him to fasten his pace. The pain slowly subsiding as your inner walls calmed. 
“Faster.” When you spoke it was but a whisper, Tommy understood. His shaft fucked into you quickly, the head of his cock slamming into your cervix with each thrust.
“Fuck Tommy! More… Oh fuck.” Your boobs jiggled with each powerful thrust, but you needed to be closer somehow. Sitting up and you straddled his lap never breaking from the bonding of his cock.
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Your hands grazed over the muscular tone of his back, wanting, needing to be closer to him. He nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his lips curling over the wamrth of your bare skin, tongue twirling as he kissed you with profound passion. You continued to ride his cock, hips rotating and grinding, until an unexplainable, euphoric feeling began to build in your pussy. 
Tommy knew what was coming and held you close to him, wanting you to know he was right there, riding your orgasm out with you. Holding you caringly and rubbing soothing circles into your back as you crumbled and came undone with one another. After a moment, you lifted your head in a fucked out melody, running your thumb down his bottom lip and staring into his sapphire eyes. In that moment Tommy didn’t know what came over him, but he knew what had to be said. He couldn’t let you go.
“Marry me.” 
“What?” You were stunned by his statement but stayed folded against him lazily, your knees to weak to move from out of his lap.
“What about John?”
“He’ll understand. He will, but who would I be as a man be to fuck you and let a pretty girl like you fall from my hands. I can be a good husband if you give me the chance.” As your breathing slowed down, Tommy’s seed flowed from your deflowered pussy, wetting his thigh making you laugh and apologize before giving him answer but it didn’t take you long to think.
“I will marry you, I just ask we let John down gently. I don’t want to be the cause of his pain.” At that moment the door flew open, Tommy was quick to pick the comforter up from the floor and shield your nude body. He was ready to start yelling until he recognized the man standing in the door to be his brother.
“What the fuck is going on here? That’s my fucking wife to be!” John went to rip the blanket from you in a furious rage but Tommy was faster, standing up and pushing his brother back out into the hallway, nothing but a sheet around his waist hiding his cock. John could be heard screaming obscenities, mostly pointed at you as Tommy pushed him into another room.
“She’s a fucking whore! A disgusting tramp who knows no fucking boundaries! And you! You fucked my girl Tommy! You can’t just steal my bride to be. How fucked is that! No- How fucked is it that the people closest to you are the ones who take the knife and twist in your fucking back!” Tommy pulled open a drawer, lighting a cigarette and remaining calm as John continued to yell at him.
“You can have the fucking cunt! Go ahead, see what I care!” 
“She wasn’t right for you Johnny. Not with a face like that. Don’t take it personal eh? You’ll marry someone else instead. Besides knowing you as well as I do, you’ll be on to the next one in no time won’t you Johnny boy?” John rolled his eyes, scrunching his nose and closing his fists in anger before he punched a hole in the drywall. Tommy merely stood by the window, not feeling the least bit sorry as he knew his brother and he knew him well. Within a week he’d be passed it, forgotten about you and the betrayal of your short lived relationship. The only thing on Tommy’s mind was returning to you, surely John’s words had upset you immensely.
~
When the big day finally arrived, it was like a scene out of the movies. The reception was held in the backyard, the aisle covered in pebbles, white rose flowered bushes running down the perimeter of the wooden benches, the sun setting poetically behind the silver laced altar. 
Friends and families gathered round, coming together for your day since Tommy may or may not have threatened some to be there for you, but he wasn’t going to tell you that. Now here you were seated with Ada while she was finishing up your makeup, and hair. 
“What do you suppose the boys are doing right now?” Ada chuckled, whimsically, looking at her work in the mirror, trying to lighten the nerves you were feeling, but that question alone seemed to make you more anxious.
“Getting a long I hope. I do feel sorry for John, I just hope he can forgive us. We didn’t mean to hurt him.” Ada remained friendly, never entering the crossfire of her brother unless absolutely necessary. She could only give you advice, and be there as not a friend but a sister should.
~
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Tommy was suited in his formal attire, looking out all the people chatting near the garden when there was a knock at the door.
“Come in.” John entered the room, a delicate expression running over his face, showing he wasn’t here to cause any harm. Tommy nodded toward the desk, sitting in his seat and pouring his brother a glass of whiskey. 
“You probably need this more than me.” John chuckled sincerely, not knowing how to start this conversation. Tommy could tell he was uncomfortable, a look of guilt just barely visible in his eyes. Shaking his head, he joined his hands together, motioning toward the ring the bearer still had to come and retreive.
Upon opening the velvet box, John was in shock, the dazzling rock shimmering in the sunlight. The ring itself had to of been far more than John’s own personal cut from the company, which told him Tommy must have taken the time to close deals and make investments. In that moment he understood Tommy cared for you more than he ever did, he would have never spent that amount of money on you, or anyone for that matter. 
“She likes diamonds you know?” John shook his head indeed not knowing that small fact about you because he never took the time. He never had any interest or care to ask, to really get to know you. Closing the box, he frowned, reminiscing back to the fight just last week he had with you both. He was ashamed, and knew he could have handled it better.
“I came to apologize Tom. I acted immaturely and I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said those terrible things. You guys look happy, she chose the right man.” Tommy chuckled, lighting a cigarette and tossing one to John.
“All is forgiven brother but I’m not the one that requires an apology. You can be a good man John, I believe that I do. But with the right woman.” Tommy left it at that, believing in his brother that he would speak with you before the wedding was to begin. John nodded understandingly, knowing Tommy was right, leaving no room for him to argue. All this hatred, anger, where were these emotions getting him? No where.
Glancing down at his watch, he bid Tommy goodbye, making his way to your dressing room. 
-
A knock at the door startled you as you were putting on your heels, worried it was Tommy you sent Ada to the door. “Who is it?”
“It’s John.” Ada turned to face you for answer. When you nodded she opened the door and excused herself from the room.
“Wow.” John was impressed with the workings of Ada, you looked truly breath taking, nothing he’s ever seen before in a woman. Smiling sweetly, you motioned for him to sit.
He twiddled his thumbs, nervously searching for the right words, but he didn’t really know where to start, so he went with the first thought in his mind.
“I’m sorry. I was out of my fucking head speaking about you like that. My brother, he’s a good man, the better man. Besides we never really had a connection did we?” You shook your head no in agreement, thankful John came to apologize, but you also shared your feelings of how you and Tommy should have just sat down with him before anything happened. He accepted your apology, but noticed you were due outside in five minutes. Bidding you farewell, he wished you luck and told you, you’d make a great wife and Tommy is lucky to have you, he needed you.
Ada knocked on the door, informing you it was time. Taking a deep breath you met your father at the patio door, a mixture of happiness and excitement protruding your ever bone.
Family and friends stood up, your mother crying from how beautiful and elegant you appeared. When you reached the alter, a singular tear swam down Tommy’s cheek as he smiled widely when he removed your vail. You were stunning, breathtaking, everything he’s ever dreamed about. John stood by his side as a groomsmen, happy to finally see his older brother smile for once. As the vows were exchanged. The ring beamed with an exquisite beauty, your eyes brimming with tears when Tommy placed the expensive jewelry on your finger, claiming you as his wife. 
“Tommy it’s beautiful.” You were hoping and praying your makeup wasn’t running down your cheeks. As vows were exchanged, the man motioned that it was time to kiss the bride. Tommy rested his hands on your cheeks, time stopping when he placed his lips on yours as the man announced you to be Mrs. Tommy Shelby.
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hazelfoureyes · 3 months
Text
A Doe in Fall (part 4)
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⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall
Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦
Part 4 Enough
Alastor struggled with the prior expectations others had of him, but you eased them away with gentle hands. And to your great comfort, Tommy’s absence is noticed but not entirely shocking to anyone. With that concern behind him, finally, Alastor gives in to his own selfish wants and asks for your help with his “work.”
「Warnings/Promises: Human Alastor x Fem Burlesquer reader, No smut! No pussy eating! No fingering! It took away from the important events and Alastor’s mental health (I know he’s not real but he’s KINDA REAL?) so I didn’t include it. Next time! , Murder, dead bodies, allusions to bad things by bad men, Alastor has had bad times and will have bad times, bad kind of choking, domestic shit, Detective Brady, Obvious Sin」
You let Alastor start the shower, remembering people often complaining you turned it too hot. Stepping into the tub and drawing the curtain around, you told him to face the water so you could clean his back. It wasn’t dirty, you just wanted an excuse to touch and stare.
A moment of silence, you were a little scared to speak but had a question burning a hole in your pocket, “Do you like sex?” You ran the bar of soap down his back, no wash cloth in sight.
“It’s … pleasurable.”
Your mouth twisted, “I thought maybe…it didn’t work.”
He laughed, “You wouldn’t be the first. Works fine. I just don’t care to use it much. I don’t-“ a pause, he considered how to say it as he had never said it out loud before, “I don’t see the appeal, typically. There’s better ways to enjoy my time and chase pleasures than sweating over a stranger,” The word stranger floated in the air around you. Alastor felt the need to push it away, dispel it as quickly as he could, “Dancing is basically the same thing, which seems to be the issue with current society.”
“I can respect that. Well, I’m relieved you aren’t dependent on murder for an erection because I don’t think I can hide that many bodies.” A chuckle from him, but you grimaced. Not now, don’t joke now. Stop hiding from the uncomfortable vulnerability of blunt honesty. You were glad he couldn’t see your face, resting your head between his shoulder blades as you lazily washed his lower back and down, “Don’t push yourself. I know I’ve been-,”
“Affectionate?”
“Aggressive.” You winced, “your word is better. Just, I wont… I can't enjoy something you don’t want.” Your traced circles onto his skin, “I can't get my rocks off to someone’s bad time.” A smile you couldn’t see, small and warm. “I hope it’s obvious I won’t go anywhere.”
He laughed louder, offending you a little.
“Sorry, it’s just— yes that’s been made clear. I quite literally told you to stop following me and somehow here we are.” He looked over his shoulder at you and gestured for the soap. You shook your head no.
“Turn around.”
He paused.
“Not— not like that. Unless you want me to?” You would drop to your knees so fast you would damage the tub if he said yes.
“I’m good dear, thank you.”
The tub was safe.
You took your time, covering his chest in suds, his arms, his sides. You did get on your knees after all to wash his feet, his calves, his thighs. You stopped short of going any higher.
He looked down right bashful. It was so cute you wanted to shove your face into his crotch and scream. 
Alastor wasn’t used to people handling him. Not outside of uncomfortable situations. The order of events typically went as follows:
Date makes a move. Alastor politely redirects. Date gets annoyed because it’s not the first time he’s done this. Alastor offers other ways to please them, be it his hands or his mouth. They either get sad (‘You think I’m repulsive, don’t you?!’) or angry (‘What kind of man are you?’). 
If he didn’t find them worth the effort, he would simply end the date then and there. But if he liked them enough, enjoyed their company enough, needed them for some purpose enough, he would acquiesce. They would touch him, and he would react like the touch-me-not plant he used to harass as a child, moving without thought from the stimulation. And he’d think about more engaging things until he got them to  finish or he could say he did. 
And it would buy a little more time with good enough affection and good enough company and good enough reasons. 
Good enough. ‘Enough’ was right there in the phrase. 
And then it would repeat until someone gave up.
When he didn’t move or reply as your hands sat where his thighs met his hips, lost in some train of thought, you left it be and stood. Lathering your hands, “One spot left!”
He suddenly looked so tired, eyebrows rising as if to ask you ‘what’s that?’ yet the dullness of his eyes indicated he wasn’t actually asking. 
But like a fall from a mildly scary height into the sea, thrilling but safe, he tensed as your hands moved. When you began to wash his face, he hit the water feet first.  His shoulders noticeably relaxed, and you thought you saw his chin shake a little, but you let it go to rub circles on his cheeks. You got behind his ears and under his chin. You tried to make a mustache but the soap didn’t lather well enough for that.
“You’re not missing out. I don't look good in facial hair.” He said, and you believed it. 
You handed him the soap and let him finish cleaning himself, trying to steal looks without being too obvious. Making a mental note to yourself for every piece of him to compliment later when he was more comfortable.
It tickled when he washed you, those soft fingers making bubbles across your skin. The steam was dampening his hair. Ah, you just noticed he wasn’t wearing glasses.
“Can you see? Without the glasses?” He was down now, cleaning your already clean legs.
“Ah, well, no.”
You held up 7 fingers.
He squinted then made his eyes wide, “Hmm…. Two hands.” You pushed him down with your foot to his chest, him catching himself with his arm. “At least I didn’t say three, dear.” 
You play kicked, “Unfunny!”
When he laughed now he looked boyish. His laughter bright as a bell. It was so jarring that it made your subconscious remind you of the dead man lying in the other room. The juxtaposition impossible to ignore.
Alastor noticed the shift in the air, getting up and setting the soap down on the lip of the tub. His hands rubbed your cheeks, your chin, your nose.
“You can leave after you’re all cleaned and dressed.” He was looking at your nose as he spoke.
“I can do anything I damn well want.” Your eyes skirted around his face before making him meet your gaze, “Atleast to the car. Okay?” Suddenly insecure about how aggressive you were, “Please.” 
Alastor nodded, could he see your smile? You could see his.
It was unspoken, and somehow equally shocking as the night you grabbed a dead man by the legs, that you dressed each other. Domestic was the only word for it and it was downright frightening for you.
But your body didn’t stop, some magnets in your fingertips drawn to the buttons of his shirt, to the collar you adjusted, to his glasses that you rested on the bridge of his nose.
Alastor hadn’t any idea what he was doing, perhaps his mother had told him to do this and he had long forgotten it. Maybe he saw it in a movie. Or read it in a book. But gingerly, as you sat on a side of the bed away from Tommy, he knelt and rolled up your stockings, watching as you clipped them to the garter belt. He slipped on your shoes and took your hand to help you stand. As you put on your dress his hands took the buttons at the bottom and yours took the top, meeting in the center. His newly clean fingers straightened out the wrinkles.
He avoided looking you in the eyes, something heavy in the space between you two telling him the air might catch fire if he did. He didn’t know what that meant, and he had done enough new things for one evening. 
“Can I ask you something?” He took the twine that tied the clothes together and began looping it through eyelets in the canvas.
“Of course.” He could ask you anything, if you answered was still up in the air.
“Why did you work for a man like that?” Continuing to avoid your face, he busied himself with drawing the sides and corners of the canvas up like a giant sachet.
A good question. One you would think he’d have asked before the murder. “He wasn’t like that before. This whole… thing was a recent shift. I know it was gambling but I think he was getting into some hard drugs too. His behavior had just gotten erratic.”
He tied the twine tightly, “It seemed impulse control was an issue for him, given his brief conversation with me. This-,” he pointed at you, suddenly full of passion again, “This is what I meant. I don’t talk to men for long. What a terrible conversation that was.” You fought back a smile. “Was he bragging? You wouldn’t believe the number of men— well I suppose yes you would.” He pushed up his sleeves and held them in place with arm bands, “If that is the typical sexual tendencies of men then I’m glad to see I evolved past it.” Alastor was spewing a stream of consciousness that even you could tell was out of character. 
Or perhaps, “I have a feeling you’d be saying all this if I were here or not.” You stared down at the canvas bundle.
That smile again, “Normally it’s under my breath but— they don’t seem to mind!” He gave the bundle a tug, checking for the sturdiness of the twine.“So, usually I do this closer to the car…” 
It was unladylike and you loved it, legs open wide as you lifted your half of the bloody package. You lumbered down the tight stairwell as he went backwards, insisting it was the gentlemanly thing to do. There was a moment you were alone at the bottom of the stairs as Alastor brought the car around. You gave the body a little kick, “Why’d you have to go and be such an ass?” Mumbled under your breath like a professional.
As you both stood there, trunk full of Tommy between you, you were unaware of what little wildfires you’d set off in the other.
Alastor felt his stomach flipping, an impulse to grab your face with both hands and kiss you making his fingers tap the roof of the car. He was worried if he did, he wouldn’t be able to stop. An issue he had never had before, but it still felt like an issue nonetheless. It was, wasn’t it? An issue?
Something in you felt like the good wife in the doorway, waving your darling off to work in the morning. Wanting to plant a kiss on his cheek and straighten his bow tie. If you’d seen a neighbor do it you’d roll your eyes and fake a gag, but you wanted to give it to him. You wanted to give him consistent adoration he could rely on and that was the only example you could think of. A nervous hand considered clawing the feeling out of your chest entirely.
You both decided to play it cool,  Alastor dialling back the urge and planting a single kiss to your nose. You hummed, “If anyone asks…”
“You saw Tommy take the cash and leave.” Alastor said quickly, so confident you could believe maybe you had.
You nodded. Biting your bottom lip you stopped the urge to offer more help. Trust needed to exist that he’d ask for it if he wanted to. 
Maybe your face was losing its skill, mask dissolving under the events of the night, because a grin spread across his face, “Baby steps.”
Always scared of letting him slip through your fingers, you tried to hide how badly you needed another date to look forward to. Pursing your lips, “Speaking of, we’ve checked off public acts of indecency, a dance hall romp, and now some gentle sex near a formerly living man. Would you like to get coffee this week?”
“In the daytime?” False incredulity
“Fully clothed.” You added.
If he hadn’t stifled his laughter, it could have been dangerous, “Scandalous.” A small panic, he hadn’t actually agreed yet. An unfamiliar feeling of insecurity came down on you like a mistimed curtain fall. 
“I’ll need a few days…Saturday, at ten, the little cafe at the west entrance of our favorite park?”
Our. Your knees buckled a little. 
“Sounds positively deviant. I’ll be there with bells on.” Why was your heart pounding now. Why now?
“It’s a date then.” A kiss to your cheek, he tensed, holding back. “Can I drive you home?,” it was spoken into your skin. His lips not leaving your face. 
“I have to go back in. Tell everyone how much of an ass Tommy is for leaving me all alone with that wealthy bore.” Your cheek leaned into his kiss. His lips dragged across your skin to find your mouth, still open.
He exhaled, shakey and slow. Your eyes saw something new; dilated pupils staring down at you. A heat was pooling in your lap again, never so receptive to a pair of eyes before.
“Should I come back?” He knew he shouldn’t.
Luckily so did you. “You know I’m not far from here. Just get home, or wherever you're going, safely.” He finally let his mouth capture yours, his hands roaming the soft fabric of your dress. Red, smooth, warm. You broke away, pulling from some well of strength you didn’t know you had, “If the girls see— there’s no motive quite like a jealous man.”
That grin erupted, beaming a toothy smile that warmed you to your core, “Endlessly fascinating.” His fingers lingered on you until they were pulled away by the limits of his reach, him backing up to the car door, “Be safe. Good night.”
Your legs crossed one in front of the other, had a man ever considered your safety enough to say it out loud? Without adding some patronizing addition like “little lady” or “pretty thing” to it that felt more like an admission of intent? “Good night.”
Alastor rode home in silence, sometimes so lost in thought he would snap back to reality and realize he had no idea how long he had been driving. It would take a second but he would confirm he was still on the right path. 
It was too soon to bring you to his home. He knew that was a logical statement. However, every other part of him wanted to carry you over his shoulder into his house and show you around, excited to hear your responses to the details of his safe harbor. He could cook for you. You two could push the sofa back and dance in the sitting room. The back porch was lovely for early morning reading.
An incorporeal pain tore through his stomach. 
Hands gripping the steering wheel, bright eyes popping up from the tall grass as he rumbled past. 
He was getting ahead of himself again. All of the idioms he was taught were going up in flames. 
‘Don’t put the cart before the horse.’
Unfortunately he had guilded the cart as well, so weighted with the gold of his hopes he was worried the axis would snap.
‘Don’t put all your eggs in one basket.’ 
He had saddled you with an entire coop of his joy. Unfair and unwise.
‘Pearls before swine’
He was, like many men, reduced to a greedy mouthed animal at your feet, incapable of appreciating your attention as it should be. But he didn’t want you to stop. Perhaps a pig could learn?
So much for evolved. 
As he pulled into the dirt driveway of what was his father’s home, then his mother’s home, now his own, he wondered what your first thoughts would be. Would you like it? Were you expecting something grander? Something shiny and new? 
When he was backed up to the greenhouse he rested his head against the steering wheel. 
The smell of the soap was heating up with his thoughts, remembering your hands. You smelled the same now tonight, the same soap. What an intimate thing to share. Could he ever hope to share such things with someone, or was it foolish to spend time thinking about it? 
Alastor would give nearly anything to share a set of plates with someone gentle, to have a set of hand towels in the bathroom for himself and someone patient, to warm two mugs in the morning with coffee for himself and someone understanding.
A secret little dream he threw away shortly after entering adulthood. Which was fine for him. If having those niceties meant having to fake that a part of himself mattered more than it did, he didn’t want them. Not that much. He was already putting on a show outside, he couldn’t bring the audience into his home. His mother’s home. 
As he grappled with Tommy’s impromptu shroud, he considered his outward image. 
He was proud of it. He chose to have it, it was a tool that got him far in life and elevated his status. No qualms. Just, when you expect to do something all of your life alone, it’s foundation shaking to learn perhaps you didn’t have to.
He had convinced himself he preferred to be alone. But now it seemed maybe he had been lying to himself. At some point he confused accepting a situation with preferring it. 
He stared down at Tommy’s pale face, clothes dirty and body stiffening on the metal work station of the greenhouse. He probably would never have learned about Tommy if not for you. No rumors or whispers or warnings about a theater manager abusing the artists in his employ were floating around.
Again, he felt his chest tightening. It didn’t matter if he had had the man already in his sights or not. He would have killed him. Alastor ran his hands through his hair. Would you have stopped him, would he have let you, if you swore Tommy didn’t deserve to die?
No. A silly rhetorical. Had you begged on your knees with tear stained eyes he’d have kissed your cheeks and said whatever you asked to hear. And then he would wait for Tommy to be alone in a dark place like he did the others. And he would avoid looking you in the eye for as long as he had to, until you forgot about the former employer.
With a single and soft clap of his hands he shut his mind off and went about his work. Now wasn't the time for questions and what-ifs. He needed to make Tommy disappear as soon as possible. He didn’t usually kill so close together in time. A brief thought slipped through the cracks of his walls, This would be easier with help. 
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
No one noticed Tommy was missing until the following night. But given he’d gotten a considerable payday Monday the staff just assumed he was off snorting his profits. 
It wasn’t until Wednesday morning did police come by, Tommy’s mother having called in a missing person’s report.
You heard the girls speaking to the detective outside the dressing room before rehearsals. 
“This is typical Tommy.”
“He’s been dabbling into some heavy stuff.”
“You didn’t hear it from me, but! I heard he got,” you couldn’t see what she was doing, “ya know?”
When the detective looked into the dressing room and asked who he hadn’t spoken with, your eyes met in the mirror, recognition painting his face. 
“Detective Brady! The assistant manager can talk now.” Someone called from down the hall. You continued covering your bruises, hoping he hadn’t noticed them. With a pat to the door frame, metal ring clinking, he left.
He didn’t have time to speak with all of you before it was doors open and left before the show began. As soon as you got home you fished around in your key bowl for the crinkled card.
You dropped it back in, hands coming to your face. Of course. Why would it be any other man?
Deep breathes. It isn’t strange he ran into you before, you worked and lived in the area. He probably handed that card to every woman he passed at night. 
Slow breathes. The girls did the legwork, just follow suit. You were a single woman. No one would suspect you of anything unless they found a smoking gun under your pillow. Even then, if you could bat your eyelashes enough and find a  dainty enough cross necklace you could beat any rap. 
All you wanted now was to see Alastor and tell him. Three more days.
Surprisingly, the theater ran perfectly smoothly without Tommy. James, the assistant, stepped up and everything carried on as usual. The detective didn’t come back, either. Rumor in the dressing room was that Tommy had been an open-and-close case of bad decisions leading to bad outcomes.
There was a sadness at the theater regardless, no one having heard any news. He had wandered off before but he always returned in time for the big weekend shows. But Friday night came and went and Tommy never showed. Which for you was expected, but the other staff seemed worried. The girls, not so much. 
You weren’t as scared as you had thought you’d be. For yourself, atleast. You would rather die than let Alastor be found out because of you. Maybe he would have advice to ease you. Even if he didn’t, you’d be comforted getting him up to speed.
Knowing you’d see Alastor soon was like knowing when the next big rain was coming. You spent all week planning your time around it. 
Except for the small detail that you hadn’t actually known where the west entrance was to the park, or even that the gates had names. But you found it easily enough. As you approached you could see him waiting, a blue suit without the jacket, was there a color he wouldn’t look charming in? 
No. Silly questions seemed to be in the air lately.
You slowed as you approached, him hearing the click of your shoes and turning before you could gather your thoughts. This was the first time to see him in the daylight. 
His mouth was moving but you didn’t hear anything, brain short circuiting. His hair looked so much brighter in the sunlight, sun passing through brown locks. You could see his eyes looking at you, brows rising as he questioned something, but your thoughts were arrested by the color of the gaze you’d spent weeks trying to get into the focus of; a bright honey brown that seemed to shimmer. A little pop of light bounced off a button of his vest, his smile gleamed as he leaned towards you.
Run. You had no business here. A possibly soon-to-be criminalized dancer and him. You should have worn a better dress. Should have gotten your hair done. Should have better.
Alastor couldn’t figure out what your face was saying. He was proficient in reading the expressions of others, in discerning the changes in the air of any given room, but this… he couldn’t place. Your eyes were wide, smile taut and flat as you took a step backward. His hand reached out to stabilize you, your heel catching on the uneven pavement of the lesser cared for wards of the city.
“What’s wrong?” His smile softened. 
You spoke without thinking, something you never did, “You’re too beautiful. I should go.” Your attempt to turn away only half in jest. His bright laugh rang out, melting the muscles of your legs. 
“That’s a new one.” His fingers lingered on your arm, “You can pick a seat, I’ll grab coffee. No staff on the patio.”
Considering fleeing still, you thought about how sad he would be standing there with two coffees in his hands. The weather was quickly cooling, but in the early sun the outdoor seating was perfect for a coffee date. 
Shaking off the nerves, you tried to get a fucking grip. You adored your physical form, you had no issues thinking you deserved whatever you wanted to have. But, well, it was like he was glowing from the inside out. Even his skin seemed to catch the light. There was that quick heart beat again. You looked through the glass front, Alastor in line. If you had gone through with the plan to rob him, and had he returned in the daylight to argue with you… you’d have just handed back his wallet and maybe even your own. 
The least attractive thing about him was his money, strange considering it was normally the most important thing a man had in his pocket for you. 
Did he know? That you had been-
“Autumn, was it?”
You heard something in your neck pop as your head spun toward the voice. The color left your face, you stood so quickly you almost knocked the chair over.
“Detective! What a blessing!” Your hands were trembling as you reached out for one of his with both of yours, “You’ve been on my mind lately.”
The detective, tall and lean, eyes a striking cool blue and hair the color of wheat, removed his hat. “Oh?”
“Yes. I never got a chance to thank you for saving me last week. That man was just not taking no for an answer.” You took several steps to the left, making his back turn towards the cafe doors. 
“I thought maybe you’d been cross with me. You ran off like-.”
“I was just nervous. I didn’t know if you were for real or just another trickster trying to get a lady alone.” You stared at his eyes, trying to keep him focused on you. 
“Ah, well, you had good reason to be. Lucky coincidence seeing you here.” He set his hat under his arm, “I was just headed to your manager’s mother’s home.”
Your eyes flitted to the counter, back to Brady. “Oh? Is…is it bad news, sir?” 
“Not a trace of the man. But, that isn’t uncommon down here I suppose.” The detective sat down at the table you’d been at….you stayed standing. He motioned for you to take a seat, “That being said, I don’t think Tommy just wandered off with some cash.”
Were you wearing your perspiration pads under your dress? You think you were. If not, maybe you could just spill water on yourself and say it was a stain. Stiff, you took a seat. 
“I was hoping to interview the rest of you ladies. I was going to stop by tomorrow but, if you have a moment, what can you tell me about him?” His eyes looked like ice, their effect similar as a chill ran down your spine. 
“Well, oh geez… I don’t want to speak ill of anyone, ever.” Your hard learned skills were coming back to you. Your hands came together to shyly fidget with each other. 
“Consider it a help to the police, no worries ma’am.”
“Miss.” You corrected, that practiced smile small and chaste, “I’m not married, sir. As you can imagine, in my profession, it is very hard to come by good, honest men.”
A chuckle, he put his hat down on the table. Fuck. Fuck! 
“But, uh, yes. I can tell you quite a bit. Tommy was a fine man. For awhile. He was very respectful to us. A clean and tight ship.” You saw the door open behind him, Alastor using his back as his hands were full. “But, the last three months or so, he started getting mean.” You leaned forward, putting your left hand on Brady’s that rested on his hat. Your right hand slipped to the side and under the table, waving frantically to Alastor to turn back around.
Without question he swiveled on his heels, sitting down at another empty table near the cafe doors with his back to you.
You gripped his hand and the hat with one motion, and set it back on his head, “If he saw me talking to a flat foot…it could be a lot of trouble. Maybe we should speak privately.”
Why were you incapable of finding a balance between honey and venom? Your words came out too sweet, voice dipping into the tone you reserved for marks.
“Ah, well…Miss Autumn-,” Brady shifted in his seat.
You stood up, slapping his shoulder, “I meant the theater! Sir!”
He flustered, shaking his head and standing too, “I didn’t say anything!” His nervous laughter eased you, walking further from the table so he would follow. “Well, I’ll be by tomorrow. Maybe we can finish this conversation.“
A nod, not at all intending to tell him you didn’t work Sundays, “That sounds good. Anything I can do to help. But really, I expect Tommy will show up as soon as the cash runs dry.”
With a tip of the hat, he walked off to bring bad news somewhere else. 
You waited a moment before moving to the seat across Alastor. You thought your bones had turned to jelly, “Thanks for the rerouting. Was I obviously rattled?” You were mortified.
“No, not at all!” Alastor set the cup in front of you. “A former beau?”
You shook your head, “Worse. Detective Brady back there came by the theater this week, but didn’t have time to speak to me. Just so happened to see me now on his way to Tommy’s mom. Actually, that was something I wanted to tell you. I’ve met him before.”
His brows rose, blowing slightly on the coffee, “Oh? A patron of your theater?”
“No. That night with Legs. He stopped me a quite a few blocks before I found you. Gave me his card and a warning about missing people and something about little ladies being out at night.”
Alastor nodded, unphazed.
“Should I be worried? Because I’m worried.” You couldn’t even touch your drink, stomach in knots. He smiled, breaking the spell Brady had cast over you.
“Without a body there is no proof anyone is dead. That’s all that matters.” Alastor was cocky, leaning back in his chair with a far too relaxed demeanor.
You hadn’t realized your shoulders were so tight, “Sorry for shooing you away. I just got so scared! If he knows I,” You caught yourself, face going red as you corrected, “thought I had a guy, it could put you under a spotlight.”
His hand came over and gently rubbed your open palm with his thumb, “You’re right. That was smart, thank you.” Alastor smiled brighter, “Now! Let’s put that behind us. I don’t have a terribly long time. There’s a couple things to discuss. Most importantly,” he leaned over the table, face serious, “You think I’m beautiful?”
You kicked at his shin under the table, “My heart nearly stopped! I thought it was something important! Unfunny!”
A snicker, “Cruel?”
You nodded, “Very!”
It was by most people standards a normal date. It only strayed from mundane when Alastor walked you home and asked if you had any nightmares about Tommy. 
When you told him you hadn’t slept that well in weeks, and thanked him softly for his affection as you felt that had something to do with it, he hummed happily. He offered you his home phone number, you gesturing to the phone box at the corner in return. 
The nights were busy, so you often spoke in the mornings before his work. You’d made somewhat of a schedule, waiting in the booth around when you knew he was up and settling with coffee. He’d call, you’d ramble about your evening and what wild thing happened. Luckily the detective never returned after his Sunday visit so your stories were just fun and lighthearted. His laughter sounded so good over the staticy phone line. He would tell you about his work, about the bands he had the pleasure of hearing. New Orleans was the undisputed mother of jazz, and it showed in the fervor of his audience. It wasn’t uncommon he was busy keeping up with demand for more big and new sounds. 
While you enjoyed every opportunity to see him, be it coffee at a different cafe than the first or a walk around forested areas you knew were of use to him, the calls were nice. It allowed you to enjoy him without worrying about putting any undue pressure on him. You could twirl your phone cord and bite your lip without concern.
But finally, the moment you’d been waiting for. You called Alastor and he sounded tense, like he hadn’t slept. With a simple “What’s wrong?”, he asked if you’d want to help him with work.
The first one was almost too easy. Alastor had you wait at a bar where a man he clued you in on frequented. A staff member of his station had missed work for several days, supposedly sick. Alastor got the real story from eavesdropping on the ladies at lunch. The man, Mr. A. Wellington, was next. After watching and waiting, Alastor knew the man’s patterns well enough. Including you was a risk, but he had been fighting the urge to ask you for so long now. This one seemed it would be cut and dry. 
All it took was a smirk, a well placed hand, a laugh. The man practically pushed you down the back stairs of the bar and out through the doors that led to the service street. So engrossed in ignoring your suggestion of slowing down, he didn’t hear or see Alastor standing feet beside you both. 
The look of betrayal on the man’s face as his eyes flew from Alastor back to you increased Alastor’s high was three fold. He asked the man, already too gone to reply, if he remembered his staffer. “You should. She’ll always remember you.” 
You leaned against the door that led back to the hotel bar. Your eyes and ears were open for any unwanted company, any possible danger. Other than your own little madman. Alastor took this one personally, you could tell by how much messier he was than the first two.
While he didn’t explicitly state his code of ethics for selecting “victims”, you had picked up on the pattern. A man who assaulted a young woman, a wife beater, a violent segregationist. 
Was he really doing bad things? You found it hard to pity any of them.
Once the messy part was done you’d help get the man, as it always had been so far, into the trunk. You’d share a few kisses and clean the scene before being driven home, where you’d share a few more. Your favorite part, by far.  And after you waved, he’d drive off to wherever he went with the dead men. 
But one night was atypical. One night was downright horrible.
You lured a man into a large park beside the water. A part of you almost felt bad, as he sweetly held your hand. He had been a perfect gentleman, you seducing him at a dance hall. Alastor had warned you he was dangerous, but you wondered for a second if he was Dangerous or dangerous. Like Alastor-dangerous.
You found your answer when the man smiled down at you, telling you how beautiful you looked in the starlight, how you’d stay so beautiful forever, and wrapped his hands around your neck. Capital “D” Dangerous. 
The man was knocked off balance by Alastor tackling him from the side. You all three fell into the dirt and grass. The wind was forced out of you from the impact, your hands failing to get traction as you tried to sit up. The ground was slick with mud from recent rains flooding the rivers. Hurricane season was already in full swing.
The man wasn’t huge, but he was larger than Alastor. You watched the men struggle, slippery ground complicating Alastor’s attempts to stay upright as he straddled the man, and he couldn’t get leverage enough to bring down the knife. Horrified, you sat on your legs feeling helpless as the man lifted himself and Alastor off the ground entirely and tossed him onto his back. A small cry, Alastor rolled away revealing a rock where his back had landed.
The man only needed one of his large hands to wrap around Alastor’s throat but he used two for the fun of it. Your shoes slipped off as you struggled to get to your feet like a baby deer newly introduced to the world. Everything was wet and spinning, your lungs were burning. 
Alastor didn’t feel scared as his vision went black, just annoyed he had fucked up.
Even that feeling washed away as a grayness flooded into his consciousness. Everything lost color, flavor, texture. All urgency inked out. 
Before everything slipped away, before he slipped under, he thought he heard his mother calling his name.
He thought he heard you scream. 
Part 5 is halfway done 👌
༻Masterlist༺
∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):
@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum ,
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@looking1016 , @ultimate-duck-king-lucifer , @blakeaha
🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan
@faeoffaith ,
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racinggirl · 5 months
Text
best I've ever been
Lando Norris fic - requested
My inbox for requests
a/n: thank you for this request, anon! I tried to write it the way I see things, and the way I've experienced things. I do want to put A MASSIVE TRIGGER WARNING on this story, as it contains loads of things that might trigger anyone that has some sort of eating disorder. I also want to say that if you struggle with any form of eating disorder or any other mental health struggles, please please contact someone. If you're scared to do that, tell someone, even if it is a stranger online, slide in my questions, but look for help. you do not have to do this alone, and there are many people that want to see you smile, even if you might not see it yourself. Enjoy this story, and keep sending in requests 🧡
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FEB 28th, 2024
Being a student at university while dating one of the most famous people in the world wasn’t something that was on everybody’s to do list. But it was on yours, and it brought along a lot of hate, high expectations and stress.
You have never been that perfect WAG, you weren’t like Lily, who was a professional golfer. You weren’t like Kelly, who had a beautiful daughter and was an amazing model. You weren’t like Alexandra, who was stunningly beautiful with an amazing career. You were just you, and that’s something Lando loved about you.
‘I don’t want to date a professional model, someone famous or some sort of influencer. I want to date you, because in my eyes you are more beautiful than all the models together. You’re the one that stole my heart and please, never give it back to me.’
He always made sure to reassure you, tell you how beautiful you are, how proud he was of everything you were doing, how grateful he was for calling you his girlfriend. All those things made you love that man even more and more every single day.
‘’You look stunning, baby.’’ His lips pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, his hand intertwined with yours as he pulled your body closer against his own.
‘’You feel cold, my love, are you okay?’’ His hand moved to rest on your forehead, then on both your cheeks as his bright eyes looked at you with worry.
‘’I’m okay, Lando, it’s just a bit chilly in here.’’ You smiled, giving his hand a gentle squeeze before you both walked out of his hotel room, on your way to the parking lot so you could go to the track immediately after.
He never noticed, and you were somewhat happy, but somewhat sad as well. You see, you weren’t like all the other WAGs, instead of wearing a size XS or S, you’d squeeze yourself into a medium or large at some times. Those cute outfits the other girlfriends would wear wasn’t something you’d find in your own wardrobe, simply because you did not feel comfortable wearing something that showed skin.
Lando didn’t mind, though. He never did. He knew you were absolutely gorgeous, and he worshipped you every time he saw you because he was aware of your insecurities. He tried his best to make you feel better about yourself, but you always had this mental note that you wouldn’t be good enough for him, let alone be good enough to be his girlfriend.
‘’No, thanks.’’ You politely rejected the small snack you’d find at the McLaren hospitality, something you used to say yes to because let’s be honest, they were extremely tasty. Lando smiled at you, squeezing your hand gently before whispering something in your ear. You smiled at his words, feeling extremely grateful for having such an amazing boyfriend.
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DEC 2nd, 2023
‘’Sooo, how are you and Lando doing?’’  Your best friend had a smirk plastered on her face as the two of you got into the building on campus.
‘’I heard he’s going to Finland to ski with Martin Garrix, will you go along, too?’’
‘’We’re good, but no, I’m not going.’’ You told her while the two of you made your way to the elevator.
‘’Actually, I’m taking the stairs, will you come with me?’’ You asked, watching how your friend nodded and followed you to the staircase.
‘’I’m not good at skiing.’’ You explained, counting every step in your head. ‘’And we have exams in the second week of January, I want to pass those.’’
You weren’t lying, completely. You did have exams that you wanted to pass, and you weren’t the best skier out there, but there was another reason.
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FLASHBACK
NOV 4th, 2023
‘’Baby,’’ Lando was in the kitchen preparing dinner as you sat on the couch, working on your laptop for those damn deadlines.
‘’Hmm?’’ You hummed, typing away a few words for your thesis as you glanced up at your boyfriend.
‘’Will you come along on the ski trip? It’s in your holiday period, isn’t it?’’ He asked, sitting on the edge of the couch as he read through a few paragraphs of your thesis.
‘’I’m sorry, babe, but I can’t.’’ You started. ‘’Things will be busy, and I really want to finish my final exams and get this thesis done with.’’ You explained, feeling his hand on your cheek to make you look at him.
‘’Okay, I understand.’’ He whispered and kissed your forehead gently, like he always did.
The moment he walked to the kitchen to finish dinner, you looked at your schedule. Just a few more months till the season started, a few more months till he would have to show up at the paddock with you on his side, because you knew he loved having you on his side, and you loved supporting him.
However, it also meant you had just a few more months to lose as much weight as possible.
END OF FLASHBACK
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DEC 2nd, 2023
Never did you think you’d end up in a situation like you were now. Never did you think you’d end up on the ground, your best friend next to you as a random girl brought you some water.
‘’Are you okay? You scared the living shit out of me.’’ Your best friend had her hand on your back as she thanked the girl that gave you the water. You took a sip, carefully, and you sighed.
‘’I’m okay, I just… I didn’t sleep too good last night, maybe I should have gone to sleep earlier.’’ You lied, again. It was something that had become a part of your routine lately.
‘’Okay, well, stop doing that then because you scared me.’’
You had passed out once you had reached the top of the stairs. Not eating properly for a few weeks in a row had probably been the reason for that, but you did not want to worry them. You knew for sure that if you would have been skinny, it was the first thing people would say, and you somehow put that as your goal. You knew it was bad, you knew relying on other peoples’ reactions for your goal to be reached wasn’t something that was a good indicator, but it was what you did.
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AUG 7th, 2023
Hate, it’s something every celebrity and WAG has to deal with, but somehow you were shocked when it actually happened to you. Lando had warned you about it, and he had also tried his best to reassure you. Somewhere you knew the things those people said was fake, and only came from an act of jealousy, but that didn’t mean it hurt less.
You were scared to mention it to Lando, because you knew he loved his fans, and the fact those fans sent hate to you, would absolutely break him. That’s why you never mentioned it to him. Until you had to…
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You and Lando had been dating for almost 6 months now, and the world found out about a month ago. You wanted to keep it quiet for longer, but after fans spotted you together more than once, there was no more denying of the fact you two were dating.
At first you were excited, because Lando always made you feel so good and so comfortable, you thought you could take on the world with him on your side. You weren’t scared of anything when it came to the adventures you’d go on with him, but those things quickly changed the moment you opened your phone to go to Instagram.
 The hate seemed like it was never ending. You had never posted a picture with Lando because you feared the reactions. You never even posted selfies anymore due to the fear of judgement from others, from fans. It wasn’t all hate, and people were extremely kind as well, but whenever you start to receive hate, those things don’t matter anymore.
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FEB 5th, 2024
15 kilos down, you had lost 15 kilos since you started losing weight, and today was the day you saw the number go down again. You had been stuck on a plateau for almost a week, and you started to panic when the number wouldn’t go down. You started to restrict yourself more, and more, and eventually the number went down.
Surviving on two crackers and a bit of dinner wasn’t good, but it worked, and you were determined to keep it going.
Lando was away quite a bit for work. He had complimented you a few times already, because of course he saw that you had lost weight. 15 kilos weren’t a little bit.
‘’You lost weight.’’ He smiled, his lips on that same place on your temple again as you closed your eyes. ‘’Mhm, I did.’’ You whispered proudly; your arms wrapped around his torso.
‘’You look beautiful, darling. I just, you know you didn’t have to, right? I mean, I’m glad you’re feeling better, but you know that you didn’t have to do it, at least not for me. I’ll love you no matter what size, shape, or weight you are.’’ His hands moved to cup your cheeks, causing you to look directly into his eyes.
‘’I know.’’ You whispered, leaning up to press your lips to his. That kiss turned into something more, because now you were comfortable enough to take the first step.
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FEB 28th, 2024
‘’You look amazing, Y/N.’’ Lily, Oscar’s girlfriend, wrapped her arms around you, hugging you before pulling away to take a look at you. ‘’How much did you lose?’’
‘’Ehm, around 20 kilos.’’ You smiled at her, hearing her gasp. ‘’Oh, wow, that’s a lot!’’ She smiles, but you could hear the worry in her voice as well.
‘’Yeah, I mean, it’s alright, I feel a lot better now.’’
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You groaned, put your phone away and took a deep breath. You were annoyed, both with yourself and with others. You knew you promised yourself you’d stop the moment others commented about your weight loss, the moment others would get worried, because that’s when you would have reached your goal. But you couldn’t stop, and that’s what worried you.
‘’Hey, let’s get lunch.’’ Lily smiled at you, and the panic immediately started in your head. How could you get out of it, how could you not eat anything, how how how…
‘’Sure.’’ You smiled back, because others couldn’t suspect anything, they’d stop you, and that’s what you feared because you did not want to go back to that summer of last year.
As you sat down next to Lily, you had ordered a salad because that was the meal with the least number of calories on the menu. It had become a habit, searching for the lightest, most healthy, and smallest portions and meals.
You had barely eaten anything, though, and Lily noticed, too. ‘’You barely touched your food, are you okay?’’ She asked softly. After reassuring her everything was fine, the waiter came to take the food away.
‘’Are you sure you’re done?’’
Lando and Oscar came to join you not long after, both boys taking a seat next to their girlfriends.
‘’Hey, did you have lunch already?’’ Oscar asked Lily, causing Lily to nod. ‘’Eh, yeah, we did.’’ She says, hesitantly though. She glanced over at you, and then at Lando. He knew enough by just that look.
He was aware of the fact you were losing weight. At first, he was proud, and he tried to help you with choosing the right foods, the right supplements for extra vitamins and even did his workouts with you. However, when you started to lose more, and faster, he got worried. He talked to you about a healthy weight loss multiple times. He even talked to Jon about a diet that would help you slowly go back to maintaining weight, because you had lost a lot.
Lando tried to have that conversation with you a few times, but you always brushed it off. He was barely ever with you because of the preparations for the start of the season, which he absolutely hated. He contacted your best friend, asking her to keep an eye on you as well.
‘’Babe.’’ He said, this time very seriously. ‘’Can we talk?’’ He asked. ‘’Alone.’’
‘’Ehm, maybe later, okay? I must do something first.’’ You always came up with an excuse because you had a feeling Lando was going to talk to you about your weight loss. You had a feeling he was going to tell you to stop losing weight, because that’s what was going through your own mind as well. You knew you had to stop, you just couldn’t.
‘’Did you eat lunch?’’ He then asked, causing Oscar to look at you as well as Lily. ‘’Yeah, I did.’’ You said, or actually, you lied. ‘’Okay, fine, then you won’t mind me asking Lily.’’ He continued and glanced over at his teammate’s girlfriend.
You looked at Lily, nervously. You couldn’t ask her to lie for you, but you also didn’t want her to tell him the truth. ‘’We had lunch, Lando.’’ You quickly said.
‘’I’m asking Lily.’’ He said, a little more dominant this time.
‘’Lando…’’ You sighed, but he had enough.
‘’I think I already know the answer.’’ He started. ‘’Come with me. Now.’’ He grabbed your hand and pulled you up, walking with you to his driver’s room. He had to talk to you, and even though he hoped it would never come to this point, there was something that had to happen, and you knew it as well.
‘’Lando, what are you… Hey!’’ You frowned, watching how he put you in the chair and how he stood in front of you. He was mad, but mostly hurt, it was written all over his face.
‘’You’re gorgeous, Y/N, you’re absolutely beautiful and it hurts me so much that you’re not seeing it. I wish, I honestly wish you could see yourself through my eyes, because then you’d see the most beautiful, gorgeous, perfect girl I’ve ever laid eyes on.’’
You stayed silent, but immediately felt a tear rolling down the right side of your face.
‘’You lost weight, and I’m so proud of you for doing so. I always told you you didn’t have to lose weight, that you’re perfect the way you are, but I knew you wanted it. I knew you didn’t feel comfortable the moment you showed me those DM’s, the hate you received. I was supporting you, I wanted to help you because I knew it would make you feel better once you’d lose a few kilograms. Damnit Y/N, I was so proud of you for losing the weight with the right food, the right workouts and at the right pace. But ever since you started restricting at the beginning of this year, I should have stopped you. I wanted to let you figure it out yourself, because I know you’re strong, and I know you could do that. I hate myself for not being with you more, for not looking out for you, for being the worst boyfriend ever because I didn’t give you enough love-…’’
‘’You do…’’ You whispered; your voice soft as you wiped the tears that were falling from your face. ‘’You give me so much love, Lando.’’
‘’Then why.’’ He asked, his voice breaking in the middle of the next sentence. ‘’Then why are you doing this to yourself.’’
You looked down at your lap, then at your fingers, and then at his hands that took your hands in his own. You watched how he kneeled in front of you, wiped your tears with his thumbs and forced you to look into his eyes which had tears in them as well.
‘’I love you, so much you have no idea, please… please let me help you. I will not force you to gain weight but let me help you get back to a healthy lifestyle. Let me ask Jon to put together a plan for you so you will maintain a healthy weight. We can do workouts together. I promise I’ll be there more often, in between races, for your graduation. I see a future with you, Y/N, and I want you to accept my help… No. I need you to accept my help, because it hurts me so much seeing how you treat yourself, my love. You deserve so much better than how you’re treating yourself. I’ll go to therapy with you if you need me to, okay? I promise you I’ll make it my own personal goal to see you have a healthy relationship with food again.’’
You never expected the words of the love of your life would turn everything around. You never expected Lando to have such a big effect on your thoughts, on your view on weight loss.
‘’Please help me…’’ You whispered before breaking down in his arms. Every word he spoke hit you right in the heart. Seeing the tears in his eyes and hearing his voice breaking were the things that made you realise you weren’t only punishing yourself, but also the love of your life. And it wasn’t just him that you were hurting.
Your best friend.
Lily.
Oscar.
Your parents.
That random girl in the hallway that gave you the glass of water after watching you pass out.
That one fan that told you you were gorgeous, that told you to not believe the haters.
The waiter that took away the almost untouched salad, asking if you were sure you’d had enough.
You were hurting more people than just yourself, and right now it was the time to give back to those people by working on yourself, by taking care of your own health so Lily wouldn’t have to lie for you anymore. So your best friend could stop worrying about her best friend. So Oscar wouldn’t have to feel sorry for not noticing. So that fan can continue sending positive messages and not feel like what they say doesn’t matter. So that waiter can take back an empty plate knowing that the food they served was tasty. So that random girl doesn’t have to look at you and worry every time you walk up the stairs.
So you would be happy.
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AUG 12th, 2024
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if you struggle with mental health in any way shape or form, please call 988. A life line for anyone that needs support. You are beautiful, you are worth it, you are amazing &lt;3
548 notes · View notes
igotanidea · 20 days
Text
3 minutes: Jason Todd x reader
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Warnings: SMUT MDNI! swearing
***
Hey Jason, can I ask you something?
Y/N and Jason were cuddling and kissing on the couch, things started to become a little heated and then, out of the sudden, she got into a questioning mood.
Obviously, Jason wasn’t exactly content with the unexpected shift, but gritting his teeth and fighting the urge to just continue with the steamy make out session, he nodded with the calm expression on his face.
If only she knew how much it took from him to keep it.  
“Sure thing, babe. What’s on your mind?”
“Which girl would you prefer: a skinny, pretty and a little sad, shy one or a little heavier, sassy, funny and energetic one?”
“Well…” he muttered, considering the answer. He was going to be as honest as possible without hurting Y/n’s feelings. “While I suppose initially a pretty girl would get my attention I do like when there’s more depth to people. And sassy humor is pretty much essential for me?”
“Was that a question or an answer?” she teased, catching up with his hesitant tone.
“Don’t you know me? I think that by now you should realize that looks are not everything.”
“Duh!” she chuckled, kissing the tip of his nose playfully “Did you think I was with you cause you are handsome?” she repeated her action “Cause you are not.” The seriousness of her tone was bellied by a grin. “At all.”
“Oh really? And here I thought I was your personal male supermodel.” He laughed wholeheartedly pushing her away as she teased him. “But hey, it’s on the inside what counts. And when it comes to that – you got plenty going on.”
“So I’m like your kinder joy?”
“That’s actually quite an accurate description. Sweet on the inside if you are patient enough to tear through the foil.”
“Wow. Um- I didn’t actually expect you to use such an illustrative comparison….”
“Yeah, that’s me.” He smirked with a face full of complacency. Always in your corner when you are feeling down.”
“Thank you… I guess I’ve been feeling a little insecure lately. Except not the little. And not lately.”
“Good thing you got me here then, huh? Now can we please forget about that and focus on us?”
“Mh. Where were we then?” she whispered seductively leaning forwards brushing her lips over his softly.
“Right where we belong.” He responded by pulling her to him, kissing passionately, trailing lips down her neck, feeling the heat rise again.
“Yeah… Yeah, I think I’m starting to remember something…”
“What do you remember, baby?” Jason whispered against her skin, caressing her shoulder, pulling the strap of her top down.
“Something good…” she hummed, closing eyes and letting him continue his ministrations “Something so good…”
“Care to share?” In a blink of an eye she was laying on the couch on her back, Jason’s hands moving over her belly “or would you rather keep it a secret?” he leaned down nipping at her earlobe.
“Isn't it exciting to know that there are some things that stay just between us...?” She moaned softly, tilting her head and caressing his chest.
“Definitely.” Jason nuzzled his nose into her chest, inhaling her scent “Just you and me having something special.” Once more he captured her lips, tangling fingers in her hair, keeping her head in place, not that she was going anywhere.
The soft sigh that left her lips only aroused him more when he rolled on his back, pulling her with him so she was on top, straddling him.
“And I wouldn’t have it any other way, princess.”
She laid on top of him, her full body weight pressing him into the mattress, tracing hands down his sides, reaching for the hem of his T-shirt. The effect was almost immediate. Jason arched into her touch, his cock hardening at the feel of her fingers on his bare skin.
“You drive me crazy…” he grabbed her waist and pulled her closer, grinding against her, though still in clothes. Regardless, the undeniable need for friction was too much to just lay still. “But I wouldn’t want anyone else doing it to me…”
“I sure as hell hope you wouldn't...” She kissed his neck, grinding her hips on him as well.
“Fuck, I don’t even want to imagine another woman-“ he gripped her hips, continuing the movement.
“Don’t ever mention another woman when we’re together.” She almost hissed, cutting his sentence in the middle, biting on his neck, leaving a hickey and licking the stinging place.
There was no way to deny that her possessiveness and marking the territory attitude only turned him harder.
“I’m not planning on it.” He responded, tangling fingers in her hair, guiding her head lower on his neck. “Besides, I already got the only woman I need.”
“The only one you’ll ever need.” She corrected, raising her gaze on him.
“The only one I’ll ever need…” his tone was hoarse and sultry as he leaned to her again.
Being stopped with Y/N’s grip on his chin.
“Be a good boy and strip for me, will you?” She gave him a look full of fire that left him lost like a little puppy, ready to follow the orders of the owner.
“Well since you asked so nicely—” Y/N moved away from him to give him space to undress and the sudden loss of contact made him almost tear his clothes away. Anything to get her body against him again, not that he was going to let her win this. “But remember, baby, payback’s a bitch…”
“Well then, how about I make it up to you then?”
She slid down, standing on the bed foot, starting to take off her clothing piece by piece. Turning it into a sensual striptease. Tracing her body while removing her shirt, inch by painful inch. Shaking her hips while taking off the skirt. Bending down in a little provocative manner during the removal of her tights.
Almost daring him to make a move on her.
But Jason was hypnotized with her every gesture. Eyes wide with desire, hands clutching the sheets, wanting both to pin her underneath him and to watch this show forever. Evidence of his lust was obvious in his naked body, not that he would ever do much to hide it. If anything – the hardness was rather supposed to be exposed for her to lure her in. 
Nonetheless, Y/N seemed to be lost in the world of her own, continuing her dance. Caressing and playing with her breast before unclasping the bra, sliding it off her body, freeing her chest from confinements, and finally -- sliding down her panties. The moment they both were waiting for, one more than the other.
“Fuck, Y/N…. You do know just how to turn me on, don’t you?”
In response, she crawled to the head of the bed, leaning on all fours, while searching for his lips.
“I can’t get enough of you…” his hands slid down her back, all the way to her butt, kneading the flesh there.
“That’s kind of the plan…”  she pressed her chest to his torso, brushing over him like a wild feline, tracing kisses down his neck, unrestrained by anything.
“Yes, kitten… show me how you want me…” he slapped her ass playfully, one hand kept on palming her butt, while he used the other to start stroking himself.
“Oh now, you’re doing my job for me….?” With a gentle pat, she removed his fingers from his cock and wrapped her own around him.
“Fuck… fuck, Y/N, yes… keep doing that baby….” He groaned, closing eyes and moving against her hand. “Make me yours…”
“You’re going to be a good boy for me?” she stroked him harder, focusing her eyes on him.
“Yes, yes ma’am, I’ll be whatever you want, just don’t stop…”
“Don't worry my pretty baby... I’m not stopping any time soon...” She flicked her thumb over the head of his cock, gathering the pre cum and pulling it to her mouth, licking the droplets with the tip of her tongue.
“So goddamn hot…” Jason groaned from the back of his throat.
“You can touch me too, my little bird…” she whispered in his ear, sliding a little closer to him once more, making it more than obvious where she wanted his touch.
“Like that?” he cupped her breast, letting the familiar weight adjust to his hand. Squeezing and twisting her nipple in a way that made her squirm and gasp for air. The way he knew she liked.”
“Oh yes…”
“That’s right, kitten. You enjoy my touch, cause it’s the only one you’ll ever get for the rest of your life. You’re mine.”
“Fuck, I love it when you get a little possessive.” She placed her hands on his on her chest, showing him to touch her harder.
“And I love it when you get so vulnerable and open with me…”
“Oh I am open.” She smirked, hooking one leg over his hip, straddling him, but not taking in yet “I am so open. And so wet.”
“I can tell.” He grabbed her waist, trying to pull her down, kissing like a wild man, unable to stop even though she kept on pulling away from time to time. Purposefully. To leave him wanting and needy. “Don’t fucking do that, kitten.” He groaned chasing her lips, his tone both a threat and a pleading and with the sudden pressure on her body she knew she would be sporting bruises the other day. “You know exactly what you’re doing to me, don’t you>?”
“Yeah, I do. But don’t worry, I will abuse my power in all the pleasurable ways.” Y/n hummed lifting her hips, hovering mere inches over his shaft.
Jason’s eyes darkened with desire.
“Abuse me all you want. Just … don’t… fucking… stop…  Please…”
“Oh my pretty boy... My heart is breaking seeing you hurting...” She slowly sank to his length. “Is it better now...?” She tenderly brushed hair from his sweaty forehead, observing his eyes falling closed feeling her wrapped around him like that.
“So much better…” he gasped, caressing her back, wanting so much more, but frozen in this moment. He buried face in his hair, breathing in her scent. The smell of her shampoo, the musky aroma of incoming sex and the individual one of her body. Irreplaceable. Hitting all his olfactory sensors, bringing out the feeling of home. She was his home. His everything.  “Y/n….” he whispered “fuck…”
 “Is it warm for my little bird?”
“Yeah, it’s getting warmer, all right. And most of that heat is because of you.” He nibbled on her neck, leaving love bites on the entire length.
“Cause I’m so hot?” she started rocking her hips on him
“You have no fucking idea.” He grabbed her waist and started thrusting forwards with almost extraordinary energy and enthusiasm. “And I fucking love it.”
As the unexpected force of his movement made her jump and stumble forwards, she instinctively reached for his shoulders to find balance and purchase.
“I got you kitten. Hold on tight.” He catches her easily, pulling her down on him easily, digging fingers into her flesh, guiding their movements together. “That’s right. Ride me, kitten.”
One of her hands rested on his shoulder blade, the other on his chest as she picked up the pace. She closed her eyes, throwing her head back, allowing him to control the movements of her hips while thrusting upwards. His eyes were focused solely on the way their bodies unite, making sure to his just the right spot inside her, to make her yearn, burn and shudder with need and pleasure. So fucking beautiful towering over him, lost in the tryst.
Just like him.
There was something erotic about the way she takes him inside to the halt, and then lets him out. Her body opening to him like a wild flower opens to the sun, allowing its warmth and love kisses to caress its petals.
That’s what she meant to him.
She was like a rose – beautiful but not helpless, with thorns.
Like a poppy – vibrant and standing out amongst other flowers on the meadow.
Like a  cherry blossom – magical, soft to the touch but also so ephemeral and fragile if not looked after properly.
He was going to take care of her.
Forever.
“Jason…” she moaned, pressing his head into her chest, running fingers through his hair “Jason…” in the last surge of desire she grabbed his cheeks and looked straight into his eyes.
“Don’t ever stop Y/N—”
“Never-“ she gasped, not breaking eye contact for even a second, seeing the universe in his eyes. “Never-oh!”
As their climaxes approached and hit them like a tsunami wave, bringing the breath of freshness and coolness, but also threatening to wash them off the face of the earth, they held tightly to one another. Like she was his lifeline and he was her rock.
Just like in the biblical parable, that says you cannot build a house on the sand, Jason and Y/N were one’s another solid foundation. A base to build a house on.
For house is not a place, but a person.
Even when he fell back on the bed, exhausted and sweaty, facing the ceiling with mind reeling from love, pleasure and inexplicable need to lock her away from the world, his hold on her waist did not falter for a second. Only now, it was much more tender, softer, though still needy. The irony of the situation was truly textbook. She couldn’t be closer to him and yet, he was still missing her.
After a moment of heavy breathing she climbed off his lap (more like rolled off) and took the rightful spot on the side of the bed, which was hers by design. Even though they were both on their backs, their bodies found a way to one another as she reached for his hand entwining their fingers. Simple gesture, nothing really, and yet amongst lovers sharing true love, if that thing was to ever exist outside of novels, it meant everything.
After a moment, as on cue, they both rolled over to look into each other’s eyes.
“Hi.” She smiled cupping his cheek
“Hi yourself, kitten.” He responded by taking her wrist and kissing her knuckles softly.
“Did you know that statistically the round between couples lasts 3 minutes?”
“Way to ruin the mood with your nonsensical facts, Y/N!”
“it’s not nonsensical. I’m only saying that you are far more than stereotypical to me.”
“Because of how long I can last?” he raised an eyebrow  incredulously, but it was quickly followed by a glint of amusement in his eyes. Despite everything he loved being praised on his performance skills.
“Because of everything-“ she whispered lovingly.
“Oh, stop now.” He grunted, pulling her to his chest, forcing her face down onto his skin so she wouldn’t notice the tears brimming in his eyes. “Otherwise I might think you love me or something.” A single tear escaped his eye at the feeling of being complete.
“I’d hate to implant false beliefs in your head.”
“That would be such a mess, right?”
“How about we keep on cleaning it together?” her soft voice reached his ears, serving as a counterpart for his feigned gruffness.
“Now that doesn’t sound so bad.” He smiled, pulling the covers on their entangled forms, allowing himself to fall asleep, knowing she was there to stay.
A comfort that made him feel warmer than under the blanket.
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dreamwritesimagines · 2 months
Text
The Eye of the Hurricane [19] - Couples Therapy
A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback, you made my day! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️
Summary: A therapy session can be enlightening.
Word Count: 2300
Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: Violence, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, dysfunctional relationship. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.
Series Masterlist
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It wasn’t like you thought taking Bucky to couple’s therapy for your technically fake marriage was going to be easy, but you didn’t think it would be this difficult.
Bucky bounced his leg beside you on the sofa while you both sat in the waiting room, his eyes darting around the room as if he expected someone to attack him at any moment.
“What happens if she asks me questions?” he asked you gruffly and you pulled your brows together.
“You’ll be fine.”
Bucky huffed out and turned to you.
“How about instead of doing this, I just pay you money to walk out of here?”
“Not gonna happen, Bucky.”
“I’ll put the weekend house under your name, you like it there.”
“The weekend house will be mine once we get a divorce anyway,” you reminded him. “It’s on the prenup.”
Bucky licked his lips. “Do you want another house?”
“Stop trying to bribe me,” you told him as he eyed the door to the therapist’s office before fixing the gun in his waistband and you gasped.
“Why did you bring a gun to the therapy?!” you hissed and he narrowed his eyes.
“We don’t know what expects us in there!” he whispered back, making your jaw drop.
“Do you seriously think—Bucky, look me in the eye and tell me you think our therapist is going to try to shoot us in couple’s therapy—”
“Mr. and Mrs. Barnes?” the therapist’s voice reached you as the door opened and you both turned to her before you smiled at her sweetly.
“Hi!”
“You can come in,” she said, stepping aside and you let out a breath, then stood up, holding Bucky by the arm to signal him to stand as well. Bucky heaved a sigh as if he was being tortured but followed you into the room dutifully and you both sat down on the couch, the therapist taking her seat soon after.
“Dr. Raynor,” you said and she smiled back at you.
“Mrs. Barnes.”
“Y/N is fine,” you said and motioned at Bucky. “And this is Bucky.”
Bucky gave her a curt nod quietly and you cleared your throat, shifting your weight.
“My therapist Dr. Cooper recommended you,” you told her. “She speaks very highly of you.”
“Dr. Cooper is a very respected colleague of mine,” she told you. “The feeling is mutual. So what brings you here?”
“Well, we’ve just got married,” you said. “And I’ve been in therapy since I was a child, basically. Bucky on the other hand has a more distant stance towards it so I figured it could help us both if we did it together.”
Dr. Raynor nodded and turned to Bucky.
“And what about you Bucky?” she asked. “What brings you here?”
Bucky raised his brows before pointing at you with his thumb. “She did.”
You crossed your arms, leaning back in the couch and Dr. Raynor hummed.
“You don’t think you should be here?”
“Honestly doc, I have no idea why I’m here,” he said. “I’m fine, our marriage is fine, so...”
“It hasn’t been a month since we got married,” you added. “Just putting it out there. But I think it’ll help Bucky if we build this—habit.”
She turned to Bucky. “And how about you?” she asked. “How do you feel about therapy, Bucky?”
“My dad would always say whatever your problems are, they should stay between your two ears instead of anyone else’s,” Bucky replied, bouncing his leg again. “Hate to agree with the guy, but he has a point.”
“George isn’t exactly the epitome of good mental health, Buck.”
Bucky shrugged his shoulders. “Either way.”
“Fathers may have different viewpoints especially when it comes to mental health,” Dr. Raynor said. “Given their generation.”
Bucky clicked his tongue. “Well, he and my mother have never been to therapy and they’re fine.”
“Your father had like one thousand mistresses,” you pointed out, making Dr. Raynor raise her brows and Bucky made a face.
“Allegedly.”
“It’s not allegedly, Becca literally told me she once—”
“Bucky, how would you describe your parents’ marriage?” she asked and Bucky heaved a sigh.
“They’re fine.”
“Would you say you look up to their marriage?” she asked. “Or that you want to have a similar one?”
You scoffed. “Good luck with that.”
“You wouldn’t want to have that?” she asked and you shook your head.
“Bucky can’t disrespect me like that.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
You pulled your brows together, then shrugged your shoulders.
“Both,” you said without looking at him. “We have a deal, so I believe he will hold up his end of the deal.”
Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the proud smile curling Bucky’s lips and Dr. Raynor nodded.
“Anything else you feel like you took after your father, besides your opinion on therapy?”
“Why are we talking about my father?” Bucky asked back while you tried to hold back the retort. “I thought this was couples therapy.”
“We can talk about anything you feel like we need to talk about,” Dr. Raynor said. “But most of the time, our parents’ relationship is the blueprint of our own relationships even if we don’t realize it.”
“That’s not what’s happening here,” Bucky said, motioning at you. “It’s different.”
“How?”
“What she said,” Bucky said curtly, nodding in your direction and you heaved a sigh. “He’s good with my mom, and he’s great with my sister, no need to talk about him.”
“But not with you?” Dr. Raynor asked and Bucky dragged his tongue over his teeth.
“He’s fine.”
“Bucky,” said and he shot you a look.
“What?”
“He’s fine with you? Really?”
“Y/N, not everyone needs a father, okay?” he insisted. “Some of us need a boss while growing up in this business.”
“I don’t think you needed a boss instead of a father when you were a kid, actually,” you insisted, making Dr. Raynor tilt her head.
“Would you mind explaining that?” she asked. “That boss comment?”
Bucky drummed his fingertips on his knee.
“It’s a part of…” he stopped himself and cleared his throat. “My father knew what I was capable of, so he pushed me until I saw it. Until I proved myself. That’s not a terrible thing, it worked out after all.”
You licked your lips.
“Really?” you asked. “So you’d be totally okay with following his footsteps?”
 That made him stop for a moment and he scoffed.
“Fine, I wouldn’t do the cage fight because that shit’s medieval but it was because he knew I could handle it,” he defended him. “He’s great with Becca, and I don’t need him to be good with me. We don’t have that kind of relationship.”
Your stomach did a painful flip. “I forgot about that.”
“Cage fight?” Dr. Raynor asked and you both turned to her, Bucky crossing his arms over his chest. You nibbled on your lip.
“Um,” you said. “Our fathers are... CEOs and we both have family companies. There’s this tradition that—the family company has a boss and an heir and when you’re the heir, you need to show that you can handle the job.”
She frowned slightly.
“And the job can get pretty physical,” you said as Bucky let out a bitter chuckle beside you. “And one of the requirements is…when an heir is picked after years of training and everything, once the boss decides it’s time for them to prove themselves, they put you in a cage with other um—” you thought for a moment. “Some professional fighters that happen to be in the business as well, working under the family. Bodyguards, if you will.”
Not bodyguards.
They would put the heir in a cage with the best fighters working for the boss.
“But usually the bosses ask the heir to prove themselves right before they pass the crown, so to speak,” you said and stole a look at him. “Not George though.”
“I was ready to prove myself.”
“At sixteen?” you asked him. “No one fucking asks that of the heir at sixteen, Buck. My father didn’t even put Ian through that yet.”
“I was already his heir, he wanted to make sure,” Bucky said. “I beat everyone up in that cage, didn’t I?”
“Your nose was broken,” you counted with your fingers. “Three of your ribs, you could barely see through one eye for like two weeks because of how swollen it was—”
“But I proved myself,” he pointed out, making you clench your jaw and Dr. Raynor sat up straighter, trying to shake off the shock. “I’m glad I did it, I’d do it again.”
“You see?” you asked. “And then he asks me why we need therapy.”
“I don’t need therapy,” Bucky shot back. “I don’t even know why I’m here, I'm perfectly fine.”
Dr. Raynor licked her lips, then grabbed the notebook by her side while Bucky pursed his lips, slipping a little on the couch.
“Great,” he said. “She has a notebook and everything. Charm, how soon can we leave?”
                                                   *
Well, no one had gotten shot during your first couples therapy session, so as far as you were concerned, it was a success. Bucky had to drop by his office for half an hour to check on something, and after that you figured you could go to lunch together to discuss the next step in your plan so you tagged along.
Becca was already there in his office when you two walked in and Bucky tilted his head.
“What are you doing here?”
“Mom sent me,” she told him before coming to kiss your cheek. “Hey!”
“Hi there,” you said, kissing her cheek back. “We’re going to grab lunch after this, do you want to come?”
“Sure, I could eat,” she said, flinging herself on the couch. “Steve is here too, by the way.”
Bucky frowned. “Did you two come together?”
“Nope, I ran into him by the entrance,” she said while you took your spot next to her and Bucky walked to his laptop to switch it on.
“Mom sent you?” Bucky asked and rolled his eyes. “Let me guess, dad asked her to?”
Becca raised her hands while you gritted your teeth at the mention of George.
“You can’t shoot the messenger, there’s truce now.”
“Then why does it feel like I’m going to get shot by the messenger?” Bucky asked back, making her grin.
“You know how mom is,” she reminded him. “She wants all of us to get along. I take it you’re not willing to have another dinner anytime soon?”
“Fuck no—”
“Hey,” Steve said, knocking on the door and waved at you before turning to Bucky. “You’re busy?”
“Not at all,” Bucky said. “Did we have a meeting today? Did I forget?”
“Nah, I was just around,” Steve said. “Figured I could give you the news myself. Clint is flying to Chicago.”
Bucky pulled his brows together. “What?”
Steve shot him a grin. “My reaction exactly,” he said and came to sit on the other sofa. “How was therapy?”
“Ask Y/N,” Bucky said, clicking on something on his laptop. “She was the one who dragged me there.”
You rolled your eyes at him. “He brought a gun to therapy.”
Becca’s eyes widened. “Did you shoot the therapist, Bucky?!”
“No!” Bucky exclaimed. “Jesus, you two have zero trust in me.”
“How was it, really?” Steve asked you and you shrugged your shoulders.
“He’ll find it easier in the following weeks.”
Bucky frowned at you.
“Following weeks?” he asked. “We’re going there again?”
“Bucky, therapy is not like getting vaccinated,” Becca pointed out. “You can’t just have one session and expect it to fix your shit.”
“I don’t have the time—”
“I already talked to your assistant for the next month, try me,” you said sweetly and Bucky let out a groan, then turned to Steve.
“What is it about Clint and Chicago?”
“Well, he seems to believe that he can convince Rhett.”
Becca’s head whipped up and she blinked a couple of times while you tried to keep a straight face, and subtly pressed your index finger on your lips, giving her a slight grin. She let out a breath, then turned to Steve while Bucky scoffed.
“Yeah, that’s impossible.”
“What’s that about Chicago?” Becca asked and Steve heaved a sigh.
“Chicago’s prince became the new king recently,” he explained. “I thought it was hard to talk to his father, I spoke way too soon.”
“Yeah, he’s a dickhead,” Bucky pointed out while you bit inside your cheek to keep your laughter in. Becca sat up straighter.
“Why?”
“He doesn’t trust anyone who’s not from Chicago,” Steve said. “Refuses to do business with anyone else.”
“But doesn’t he kind of have to do it?” Becca asked. “Even we do business with other cities.”
“Chicago is different, Bec,” Bucky said. “They have their own rules, and as of now, they don’t actually need other cities.”
“Word on the street they might have to do it soon though,” Steve said. “Every boss in New York is trying to convince him, but as Bucky said, he’s a dickhead so…”
“That’s pointless, I’m telling you,” Bucky said as he typed at his laptop, then slammed the lid shut. “Okay, I’m done. Lunch?”
“I have a meeting with Sam,” Steve said as he stood up from the couch and he and Bucky walked to the door while Becca clicked her tongue, turning to look at you with a huge grin on her face.
“So,” she said and you hummed.
“Yes?”
“I take it he doesn’t know?”
“Nope.”
“None of them do?”
You shook your head, still smiling and Becca let out a laugh, then threw her arm over your shoulder.
“Nice plan,” she said and you giggled.
“Thank you,” you said, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Let’s go, you know how hungry therapy makes me.”
Chapter 20
270 notes · View notes
pahtoosh · 3 months
Text
baba face
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[image ID: photos of sebastian stan, chris evans, and various stuffed animals photoshopped onto a yellow background. sebastian stan is holding a round wolf stuffed animal and looking into the distance. chris evans is hiding a smile with a hand over his mouth. the stuffed animals include four frowning stuffed animals and one smiling one. /.end ID]
masterlist
18+
wc: ~2400 words
warnings: reader takes a little tumble
a/n: this was inspired by @angelbaby-fics ! Chloe, thank you for showing me your turtle and inspiring this whole piece! (side note: if anyone would like to talk about their stuffies, I would LOVE to hear about them!!
pairing: stucky x gn!little!reader
summary: sam gets a stuffed animal for reader that frowns like bucky! things get out of hand when the other avengers join in and buy reader way too many grumpy stuffies
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆ ⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆ ⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚
It all started when Sam came back from a mission in late June. The Avengers would sometimes bring back presents when they went overseas. They didn’t always have the time to stop by a gift shop but when they did, the gifts were always cherished and held a little closer when the Avenger eventually had to travel again. 
Two weeks before his mission, you had gotten very close with Sam. Your daddies asked him to watch over you one day and he gave you a whole adventure. He took you to a pottery painting studio, then the park, and ended the day with the best ice cream you’ve ever had. From then on, you were inseparable. 
During group meal times, you’d make jokes with him across the table. If you were allowed in the room for a meeting, you’d pass notes back and forth. Sam would also play with you during Tony’s summer parties; he was going to let you fly with redwing before Bucky marched outside and confined you to his hip for the rest of the night. You didn’t mind too much though, the sky probably wasn’t as comfortable as being held by Baba. 
Your attachment to Sam made this mission all the more difficult for everyone involved. You, because you missed your friend. Sam, because he missed your happy giggles and felt bad for leaving you right when he finally gained your trust. And your daddies because they had to witness you get sad every time something reminded you of Sam. 
Fortunately, the mission was going well and he was expected to return right on time. On his last day, Sam was looking both ways to cross the street when a stuffed animal in a display window caught his eye. He looked at his watch to see if he had enough time to make his flight, then quickly entered the store and bought the plushie because he knew you’d love it. 
On the plane, Sam sat with the plushie in his lap to keep it safe. It was still in the bag from the store, looking like an oddly shaped lump in a now wrinkly paper bag. When Sam returned to the tower, Steve was the first to greet him before you nudged your Dada out of the way to give Sam a bone-crushing hug. 
“I missed you, Sammy!”
“I missed you too, peanut.” He kneeled down and handed you the paper bag. “I gotcha something.”
You beamed at him. “Thank you! I love it!”
Sam laughed. “You haven’t even opened it yet!”
“I already know I’m gonna like it because it’s from you,” you said, matter of factly. “But okay.”
You opened the bag and gasped when you saw the plush. 
It was a soft turtle with a slightly slouched posture, but that wasn’t the part you were focused on. Your favorite part was the plushie’s grumpy expression. It looked just like Bucky. 
“HE HAS BABA FACE! THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!” You screamed your gratitude while running circles around the trio of Sam and your daddies. Sam and Steve were barely holding in their laughter, meanwhile Bucky stood confused, but happy that you were happy. Despite his super hearing, he wasn’t sure if he heard you correctly. Did you say baba face? Or maybe you said bubble face?  
Bucky figured that this wasn’t something he needed the answers to immediately, so he didn’t ask any questions and resolved to watching you tire yourself out. 
The grumpy turtle became your new shadow. Everywhere you went, so did the plush. You’d have it tucked under your arm while running through the compound. During mealtimes in your home, the turtle would get his own chair and toy food. Outside, you kept your turtle in a drawstring backpack with the head poking out so he could see the world too. When your daddies carried you around, you’d make a silly game out of making the turtle mess up your Dada’s hair or bite your Baba’s ears. 
Even before giving you the turtle, Sam loved to boast about how he was your favorite Avenger(you didn’t have a favorite, but you didn’t have the heart to correct him on that when he kept giving you all of his attention). When you all played hide and seek, he bragged for three days straight about how you chose him to be your partner. Your attachment to the turtle only heightened his pride. 
He always asked you where the turtle was, knowing it couldn’t be more than three feet away from you. Sam made a big fuss about the turtle having his own seat at the dinner table and fell victim to your strength and contagious giggles when you pushed him out of his seat to make room for your turtle. Sam learned his lesson that day and didn’t fight for the turtle to have his own chair in the debriefing room. However, he did bring in an extra stool for the plush. Sam even bought you the very drawstring backpack that allowed you to take your new friend on your outdoor adventures. In private, he’d ask you about how the turtle was settling into his new home and gave him the gentlest kiss when you said the turtle needed more lovin’. 
The others all thought your friendship with Sam was adorable, but there was one person who saw this as an opportunity for some friendly competition. Natasha knew that there was room in your heart for more than one avenger bestie, so she devised a plan to take her spot. She had two missions in August–the first: survey a crime group that’s suspected to have ties with Zemo. The second: give you a gift worthy of four days of bragging. 
After successful recon, Natasha’s plane landed in the Avenger’s HQ. She turned in her paperwork that she completed on the flight home, then went to freshen up so she could give you your gift. Natasha found you cuddled up with Steve in the movie room watching some old cartoon. She knocked on the door.
“Got any room for a couple more friends on that couch?”
“Natty, you’re back!” You untangled yourself from Steve and ran to give her a hug. You looked behind her expecting to see more of the group. “Where’s the other friends?”
She held up a bag with the arm that wasn’t hugging you. “Your new friend traveled a long way to get here.”
You squealed and hugged Natasha again before accepting the bag from her hand and kneeling on the floor to pull out the tissue paper and free your gift. 
“You guys are spoiling them, you know that?” Steve asked, lightheartedly from the couch.
“Oh hush, how many hours of screen time have you given them today?”
Steve opened and closed his mouth a couple times, not expecting the question.
“Doesn’t count if the movies came from your time, right?” 
Any response from Steve was cut off by your cheering. 
“BABA OCTOPUS!! BABATOPUS!!” you held up the plush proudly like it was Simba. “Dada, look!”
“Oh he’s beautiful, baby.” Steve chuckled at the round, bright red octopus plush with a deep frown on its face. “What do you say to Nat?”
“THANK YOU NAAAT!” you yelled. Excitement flickered across your face once more, then you ran out of the movie room with the octopus securely tucked under your arm.
“Where are you going, baby? And no running indoors!” Steve shouted as he chased after you. 
You slowed for a bit, but kept moving at a swift pace. “I hav’ta show Baba my new friend!”
Natasha watched your little race from the movie room with an amused grin on her face. During dinner that night, she enjoyed the shocked look on Sam’s face when you pulled up with two grumpy plushies and pretended to feed the octopus before the turtle.
Sam turned to Natasha. “You have no idea what you’ve just started.”
She smirked. “And you have no idea what you’re getting into.”
Steve leaned over to whisper to Bucky. “We’re gonna need more space in the playroom.”
𓏲 ࣪₊♡
The competition expanded beyond Natasha and Sam. All of the Avengers were determined to find the next grumpy plush to win your heart. There was a penguin from Peter, a frog from Thor, a cat from Tony, and a panda from Wanda. Your collection was starting to get out of control. You desperately wanted to carry all of your plushies everywhere with you to keep things fair, but your daddies put an end to that when you tripped on the sidewalk while trying to push a stroller full of scowling stuffed animals. 
Bucky decided to help you create a system so you could fairly pick one plushie from the collection to carry around for the day. He made small slips of paper so you could write down their names and pull one out of a cup each morning. He brought his supplies to you while you were having an afternoon snack at the dining table. His heart broke seeing you with your knees bandaged up and the streaks of dried tears from the fall earlier today still on your face.
“Hi, Baba,” you sniffled.
“Hey, sweetie. What’s going on? You eatin’ your snack?”
“Mhm.”
“Why aren’t you eating at the kitchen island, baby? You always eat your snack there.”
You pouted and gestured to the plushies sitting around you. “I can’t fit all my friends there.”
“Oh I know, bubs. It must be so hard carrying all these guys around, huh?” He mentally scolded himself for leaving you alone during your snack. He should’ve known better than to expect you to stay put when your little friends were trapped inside the stroller. It must’ve taken so long to arrange the plushies around the table with your injury. 
You perked up at his next words. 
“Baba has something for you.” Bucky spread out the slips of paper on the table and placed a cup next to them. “You can write down the names of all your little friends on these papers and pick one name out of the cup to decide which one you’re walking around with for the day. Does that sound fair?”
You shrugged, “I guess I can do that.” You really would’ve liked a solution that allowed you to bring all of the grumpy plushies with you everywhere, but deep down you knew that it just wasn’t practical. You took the pencil that Bucky held out for you and started writing down your plushies’ names.
Your Baba lovingly kissed the top of your head and rubbed your back while you wrote. He loved watching you focus on a task. He almost didn’t notice what you were writing down.
Bucky squinted then blinked a couple of times, not believing what he saw. “Baby, why are you writing ‘Baba’ on everything?”
You paused and tilted your head back to look at him. “That’s their names. Baba Turtle and Baba Cat and Baba Bear and Baba-”
“Why do you call them that?”
“‘Cause look!” You picked up the grumpy frog sitting next to you and held it out for Bucky to see. “They look like Baba!” You hugged the plushie before setting it back down to continue writing. 
Bucky’s heart melted. His sweet, wonderful baby was so attached to these plushies that reminded them of him. His signature scowl that often got him into trouble brought them comfort. His friends even noticed and spoiled his baby rotten with even more of these toys. 
Bucky continued watching you work. He looked at the plushies differently now. 
𓏲 ࣪₊♡
Steve and Bucky were cleaning your playroom. Normally this would be your responsibility, but you had gone to bed a little earlier, and they didn’t want you walking too much with your injury. Steve was putting your plushies into their designated bins. He wasn’t harsh with them, but his efficient method of gathering an armful and plopping them down certainly would have raised an eyebrow from you. 
“Hey, go easy with turtle me,” Bucky teased. 
“Turtle you?” Steve asked. 
Bucky nodded proudly, then held the plush up to his face. “Don’t you see the resemblance?” 
“Whatever, punk. At least my face isn’t the reason we have a 50 gallon bin of stuffed animals.” Steve turned around and kept cleaning, completely missing the look of excitement on Bucky’s face. 
The next day, your Baba volunteered to pick up breakfast while Steve helped you get ready. Bucky stopped by a toy store on his way to the bakery. He’d seen this particular plushie before and knew that this was the perfect moment to get it for you. Not too long later, he was entering your home with bagels in one hand and your new friend in the other. 
Bucky hid the plush behind his back when he heard you and Steve walking towards him. 
“Hi, Baba!”
“Good morning, baby.” Bucky leaned down to kiss your forehead, then kissed Steve’s cheek as a thanks when he handed off the box of bagels. 
You hugged Bucky and couldn’t help but notice that one of his hands wasn’t hugging you back. 
“Baba, hug me better,” you whined. 
Bucky laughed. “Hang on, I’ve got somethin’ for ya.”
You gasped in excitement and took a step back so you could see. Bucky revealed the plush with a dramatic flourish, then somewhat nervously waited for your reaction. The stuffed animal had you in shock. It was a stuffed giraffe that stood with the most perfect posture. It had spiky hair, blue eyes, and a charming smile. You knew exactly who it was supposed to resemble. 
“IT'S DADA!” You squealed and graciously took the plush while running to the kitchen where Steve was. He was already making his way to you when he heard your scream. 
“Dada’s right here, bubba. What’s going on?”
You held up the plush while doing a little dance. “Look! It’s a Dada giraffe!”
Steve laughed then ran a hand over his face when he made the connection. You ran off to your playroom, saying something about “finding a Baba for this Dada” while your daddies shared a look. 
Bucky brought in Steve for a hug, patting his dumbfounded lover on the back. He playfully whispered in his ear, “We’re gonna need more space in the playroom.”
280 notes · View notes
ladyofthenoodle · 1 year
Text
oh, look now, there you go with hope again
Adrien Agreste was sitting alone in the cafeteria.
Again.
The sight made Marinette want to pull her own hair out. Hadn’t she publicly stated, as Ladybug, that Adrien Agreste was as much a victim of his father as anyone who had been akumatized? That in the end, he’d shown remorse and helped her? Hadn’t she urged the people of Paris to embrace him, to give him a second chance?
Sure, she hadn’t exactly practiced what she’d preached, but—she’d excused herself as the exception. After all, no one had been more hurt by Chat Noir than Ladybug herself. No one else had felt the sting of betrayal or the sharpness of his claws the way she had.
So she’d told herself it wasn’t her responsibility to extend an olive branch more than she already had. Surely, someone else—someone who didn’t have vivid memories of fighting against a boy meant to be her partner—would step up and be his hero. It wasn’t Marinette’s job.
Except, apparently, it was.
Because he was still eating alone.
If no one else was going to step up, then she had to.
The next day, she marched right up to his table in the cafeteria.
He looked up at her, wide-eyed and frightened.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know this table was taken. Please, let me move my things–just a few seconds, I promise.” 
He’d already started packing up by the time Marinette processed what he’d said—and the hunted look in his eyes as he said it.
“Stop!”
Adrien froze, instantly, then raised both hands in the air: the universal sign for ‘I’m unarmed.’
Marinette felt a pang of guilt. Snapping at him like she was apprehending a criminal was not the approach she was going for. So she tried again.
“I mean,” she kept her voice as soft as she could, the way one would approach an injured stray on the street, “you don’t need to move. The table isn’t taken by anyone except you.”
Adrien nodded, his hands lowered slightly, but clearly still on guard for whatever she’d say next. She hated that, but she couldn’t blame him for expecting the worst when a girl he’d never spoken to before arrived at the table.
Still, the idea of him being scared of her—plain-clothed Marinette—felt wrong. He’d never even been scared of Ladybug, though she’d had her fair share of nightmares about him.
“Can I join you?” she asked.
He nodded again, but unlike the relief she expected at her question, his posture remained guarded and tense.
Did he not want company? Is that why he still ate alone?
She found that hard to believe. Chat Noir, even at his worst, had always been gregarious—often trying to make conversation with her even as he attacked her. There’s no way this same boy could be satisfied eating alone every day, with no one to talk to. 
He must just not know what to do in this situation—it was common knowledge, after all, that he hadn’t been allowed to go to school before this, not even a fancy private school.
Luckily, Marinette had come prepared with the perfect icebreaker.
So after she took her seat next to him, she pulled it out of the bag: two croissants, baked fresh this morning, and better than any of the baked goods in the cafeteria menu. She put one on his tray.
Adrien eyed it warily.
“It’s for you,” Marinette explained.
“You want me to eat it?” he asked, which she thought was a bit rude, but she supposed Hawkmoth wouldn’t have taken much time to instill his son with proper manners, so she decided to let it slide.
“Yes, I brought it for you.”
He nodded, then picked up his knife and fork like he was preparing for battle. He closed his eyes, breathing in deep, as if he were bracing himself.
Marinette had a hard time pushing back her annoyance at that. Not thanking her was one thing, but acting like her parents’ baking was some kind of chore to eat?
“Just eat it!” She took a bite of her own, for emphasis. “It’s good.”
Adrien set his knife and fork down again, then gingerly picked up the croissant with his fingertips. 
Irrationally, Marinette felt her heart racing as he slowly inched it towards his mouth, like it was a design contest and she was watching the judges circle her piece. 
Which was stupid, because she wasn’t trying to impress him. She was just trying to be nice. It didn’t matter if he liked it or not.
But by the time his teeth sank into the croissant, she was on the edge of her seat.
He took a bite.
Chewed.
And swallowed.
Then looked at the croissant again, with wide-eyed wonder. Marinette couldn’t stop the smug, satisfied grin from spreading across her face.
Which quickly slid back down at his next words.
“It’s… just a croissant,” he said, and if he hadn’t said it with such awe and reverence, Marinette would’ve chewed him out.
Instead, she was just baffled.
“What else would it be?” 
“Nothing,” he said, too quickly. “Of course it’s a croissant, I just—there’s nothing else in it.”
Marinette frowned. “Were you expecting pain au chocolat? It’s a whole different shape.”
“No, of course not, I—” He stopped, then, and looked away, as if he was scared to say more.
And really, this whole exchange had been weird, from the beginning.
“Adrien,” she said slowly, “why were you afraid to eat the croissant?”
Because that’s what it had been, hadn’t it? Not ingratitude. Not snobbishness.
Fear.
He mumbled something into his lap in response. She couldn’t quite make out the full sentence, but what she did hear was chilling: “...last croissant had…. in it…”
Just a croissant. Because he’d expected her to put something in it.
She’d known her classmates avoided him. But she hadn’t realized how bad it was.
When Marinette was 10, their class had gone on a field trip to the zoo—not the one nearby, but the big one, on the outskirts of the city. She’d been so excited that she’d packed her bag filled with everything she could possibly need—snacks, sunscreen, her favorite magazines for the bus ride.
And then she’d been stupid enough to leave her bag unattended for a few minutes.
The memory of squeezing her bottle of sunscreen in the heat of the day and having a dollop of mayonnaise fall into her hand instead had never left her. It hadn’t been the worst prank Chloe had ever pulled, but the scent of mayonnaise that’d been sitting in the sun—sour and rancid—never left her. 
She still smelled every bottle she opened now, years later, even ones she knew no one else had touched.
She didn’t know what had been in the last croissant he had been given, but she knew exactly why he’d been wary—why he’d tried to go in with a fork and knife first.
What she didn’t understand was why he’d drop them and eat it with his hands anyway, if that’s what he expected.
“Why did you take a bite if you thought I’d put something in it?”
“Because you told me to,” he whispered.
Marinette blinked, disbelieving. He’d blindly taken a bite, expecting the worst, because she’d told him to? Even at the peak of her victimhood, before she’d learned to stand up and fight back, Marinette had done her best to avoid falling into any traps she could see coming.
“Why?!?” she all but shouted. “Why would you just let someone do that to you?”
His answering smile was brittle. “As long as I’m willing to play the victim, they don’t see me as a villain.”
Marinette’s stomach dropped in horror as he continued—as she realized the true extent of what she’d let Adrien Agreste go through for weeks, while she’d turned the other way and told herself it was someone else’s problem.
“When I first came to school, no one wanted me here. They didn’t feel safe, even though Ladybug assured everyone I was powerless now,” he was looking away, now, voice hollowed out like his insides had been scooped out, “For a while, I was scared they’d make me leave school. But then, they started playing pranks. And after they’d play one, they’d laugh at me, and it hurt at first—it still does, but—one day, I realized, when they laughed and taunted, they didn’t look scared of me anymore. So, I let them. If this is what it takes to stay, for them to feel safe and accept my presence here, I’ll eat whatever they serve me.”
Her insides churned at the thought of him—sitting on the ground, surrounded by the faceless peers laughing, and somehow deciding that was for the best.
“Why would you want to stay, when everyone treats you like that?”
Why would he want to stay, when no one had shown him even an ounce of kindness?
Adrien shrugged. “It’d be the same anywhere, probably. And…”
“And?” she prompted, reaching out to lay her hand on his white knuckles gripping the edge of the table.
He turned a wistful smile to her now. “I’ve always wanted to go to school. To be with other kids and make friends. My parents wouldn’t hear of it—they said it wasn’t safe, that the kids I’d meet at school weren’t worth knowing.”
Something in her heart—some wall that she’d built up after that second battle with Stoneheart—cracked.
“I can’t let him be right,” Adrien confessed, his own voice breaking with the weight of it.
She’d been wrong before, when she’d thought he’d sounded hollowed out. Maybe his father had hollowed him out before, to better fill Chat Noir with Gabriel Agreste’s own darkness, a croissant ruined by something unsavory shoved inside.
But this Adrien wasn’t hollowed out. 
He was carved into. And he’d submitted to it, willingly, just for a chance to stay.
Luckily for Adrien, Marinette did two things better than anyone else in Paris: proving Adrien’s father wrong and rebuilding what has been destroyed.
She squeezed his hand, in promise.
“He wasn’t right. We won’t let him be.”
2K notes · View notes
ghostykapi · 15 days
Text
i need some lo-o-ove
minatozaki sana & fem!reader
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she’s so pretty what if i cry
when you ask for attention from a global superstar, you already anticipated the answer of a half baked apology
still hurts though
sitting down in a cafe, surrounded by too much noise and people is not a good thing to be at. not when you can feel the bitter disappointment rising up your throat, mixing in with the coffee you probably just gulped too fast.
it’s your usual, a spiced spanish latte. the sweetness blending in with like probably two shots of espresso with a kick of cinnamon that sends your nerves into a state of buzz that you don’t know if you should accept to enjoy it or not
regardless, you should have still known better. you should have known better that you would savor your coffee this time, known better than to expect a quiet cafe during the afternoon rush, known better for your girlfriend to come in on time
you stare at the cup, arms crosses and face set in a pensive expression. the ice slowly melting away like your own expectations you have learned to built over the course you have been taken by her. each passing second making you more and more anxious to the inevitable answer of your repeating question
princess are you not coming?
princess you told me you would come this time
princess sana?
those messages have been sent over to 15 minutes ago. 30 minutes you have been sitting there, and the waiter has already returned for the 4th time
“still a no go?” the waiter is nice, a little flirty, but ultimately nice. her enthusiasm reminds you of the time when you first met sana
“sorry” you want the ground to eat you up, but you have to push through it you even want to go with your day “i’ll just pay for the coffee”
“don’t worry” perplexed, you try to still pay, but the waiter beats you too it “really, please don’t worry, it’s been paid. on the house”
“but-“
“i insist” the waiter stops you again “really, it’s no big deal”
“well” you stand up, letting the waiter guide you outside despite it not being her job, you can’t say no, not when she held out her hand with a smile “thank you for that”
“it’s sucky i know” you never really got her name yet you got how her eyes slightly closes a bit more when she smiles. you wonder if this is the universe telling you to try “but it gets better i swear”
“thank you” you smile, and she smiles back, slipping a number in your hand, before she turns around and gets back to work
so you stand there, with a number of a pretty girl. a pretty girl that made you feel seen, made you feel like your time wasn’t wasted, made you understand that you deserve better.
she isn’t sana
so you walk back to your apartment, and despite the bright and sunny day, tears are falling from your eyes. people are staring at you
you can’t look at anyone right now. not when you feel like your heart is sinking and your body feels heavy. even when you get to your shared apartment, you sink on the couch, barely having energy to move despite drinking caffeine.
you don’t even know how long you stayed there, not even when the sun is beginning to set and your body is getting weaker by the minute. the lack of food due to the loss of appetite resulting in your lack of energy
all you know is when you hear the the front door, it’s the only time you looked up from the couch to see sana
you feel like your breath is taken away at how gorgeous she looks despite breaking you apart
sana feels her heart stop at the realization of what she just missed, with your puffy eyes and weak body movements a telltale sign of what just happened
so despite of what you think your relationship dynamic is, sana is on her knees. on her knees to beg for forgiveness, to try and persuade you to think differently of any negative thoughts that plague your head
“i’m so sorry princess” she’s too damn gorgeous on that damn floral outfit, but she must be a devil for knowing how week you can get when she’s kneeling while pleading with those love struck eyes “please please please let me make it up to you”
you can’t deny her, you can’t deny when you can’t even look another way that isn’t hers
you want to fight her. you know you should. after all who in their right mind would let their partner kiss them despite committing multiple fuck ups in a week
you apparently
“i know i know” she whispers in between kisses, the taste of her lipstick is always going to be one of your favorite “i’ll take care of you princess, oh i will”
sana knows you. she bets her soul that she does. she knows how much you love to play with her hair, how you love to kiss her cheeks after a hearty meal, how you always loved to use her perfumes when she’s away, how you cry when she fucks up.
she’s fucked up at least 5 times this week. it’s a thursday. she has come home for 3 tines and yet in her heart she knows she has broken your heart more than the nights she holds you close and pretends that she was the cause
she knows she has to make it up to you
so you get kisses, again and again and again until you realize what she has done
“my gorgeous gorgeous princess” her lipstick is now smudged against the skin on your neck, and she can’t help but smile in satisfaction of her artwork “i’ll remind the whole world who i belong to”
dazed and out of breath, you grip on her arms to regain a sense of control of your surroundings. the white button up you always wear to work now ruffled and stained with pink lipstick. you can barely even look at her without your eyes traveling to her lips, always craving for more
sana also always craves for more, so she kisses you again and again and again until she’s fully on your lap on the couch, your hands ruffling the fabric of her blouse, all you feel is her
but you can’t shake the feeling of betrayal off you
sana isn’t surprised when she feels you push her away. she is more surprised when she realizes despite when opening her eyes to you crying, she didn’t feel a hard force when you pushed her.
no words are exchanged, but she lets you hold her, afraid that tomorrow morning this night will all be a dream. she watches your tears fall when you try to memorize her, afraid of being cast aside again to forget who she is. she fights the tears that threaten to go down from her eyes, her only focus is you
“must you break my heart again my love?”
she's never looked away once, not even when you feel the tears falling down again, not even when you can’t stop the sobbing, not when she sees it all.
she finally sees the full extent of how much damage she can do
“will you still look at me even when we are old?”
she understands the warnings of her members, of how too much of her job can consume her. how bring so focus on her job, she forgets to spare a glance to you
now she’s looking at you, maybe she can fix it
maybe she can make you understand again that no one can compare to you, no one can replace you, no one can deserve her love but you
no one but you
always, inevitably you.
“i’ll always” sana holds the your hand on her cheek and kisses it’s palm “choose you”
wiping away your tears, she holds you close, whispering new promises she plans on keeping, whispering how much she loves you, whispering how she’s going to fix her mistakes and be better, whispering how much she is so grateful to have you.
“it’s you who i want to love for eternity���
after all
who else would she want to propose to in your next vacation to switzerland?
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marvelouslizzie · 1 year
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No One Else Matters
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Summary: Things between you and Bucky Barnes have been going great until an Avengers dinner party reminds you of that one night you spent with Steve Rogers. Now you are afraid that the meaningless past hook-up might jeopardize your future with Bucky.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Word Count: 4.1K
Warnings: 18+ NSFW MINORS DNI, secret relationship, alcohol consumption but no one is drunk, semi-public sex, unprotected p in v (on birth control and clean), begging, pet names, dirty talk, mentions of past hook up with Steve Rogers, eavesdropping, no mention of y/n
A/N: Another random idea that turned into a one-shot thanks to my amazing friends. Thank you so much @notafunkiller for beta-reading and editing. Also, some lines belong to her because she helped shape the story and I appreciate it a lot!
This story isn't any form of Steve Rogers hate. I just wanted to write a story like this and it wouldn't work with anyone else besides Steve. If you don't want to read a story where Steve is a past hook-up that didn't work out well, please stay away from the story.
All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission. 
Every like, comment, and reblog is highly appreciated. Don’t hesitate to message me. I would love to answer questions or start a conversation as long as it doesn't include any kind of hate.
Read more tag starts after the first paragraph of the story.
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Coming to this Avengers dinner might have been a big mistake. Essentially you were looking forward to this night because it had been a while since you saw your co-workers. Some are more like friends than co-workers, but working for SHIELD keeps everyone busy. Small events like this help people to get together, catch up and maybe plan other stuff for the future, but tonight feels somewhat different.
You were enjoying yourself until you saw Bucky and Steve casually chatting on the other side of the room. That doesn’t happen very often and it reminds you of things you'd rather not think about. Things that happened years ago. Like that one time, you hooked up with Steve. It was buried so deep into your memory, you simply forgot about it and it’s not like you see Steve that often. Occasionally, his team asks for your help and you try to do your best. And you have been nothing but friendly to each other since that night. You remember him taking it pretty well when you said you’d rather stay friends with him. He probably wasn’t looking for a relationship anyways.
It was before everyone found out HYDRA was nesting inside SHIELD for years. He was simply the golden boy. The first Avenger who unexpectedly returned. A savior. Everyone was in awe of him and tried to be their best version. It felt like a fairytale came true.
The problem is whenever people make an idol of someone expectations go over the roof. And when you meet that person, see what they are like up close, you just notice he’s just like anyone else. Even though they didn’t do anything wrong or bad, it still feels somehow disappointing.
He was different than what you expected him to be. You noticed that pretty quickly and decided to keep things professional. It worked out amazingly until… now. You look around, trying to calm yourself down, keeping that memory to yourself because this is definitely not the time to bring it up.
**
When the dinner finally starts, it turns out to be a good distraction. You chat with whoever is around you about recent missions, the latest gossip, and things SHIELD is planning to do in the near future. But your eyes keep wandering towards Bucky, who is seated across the table. It’s a huge relief to see Steve and him aren’t seated together or even close to each other. Everyone knows they used to be good friends, but that’s not the case anymore. Since Bucky is back to himself and started to work for SHIELD, things went downhill for their friendship. They slowly drifted apart.
You try hard not to glance back at him again, but he’s looking at you. That makes things even harder. You notice how his lips form a small smile whenever your eyes meet and how he tries to play it off as something he did because of his conversation. But you know his smile is caused by you and even though you don’t want to accept that, it melts your heart a little more.
After the dessert is served, people start to focus on their drinks more. Different groups are forming, and when you want to take check on Bucky, he quickly tilts his head to the right, signaling you to leave the room and meet him. You look around to see if anyone noticed, but no one’s focus is on you two. 
You do nothing but watch him discreetly walk away first, without waiting for an answer. He knows you will follow. And that’s exactly what you do: you place your empty glass on the counter and leave the room as subtly as he did. What you don’t notice is that someone actually has been watching you very closely.
You have no idea where Bucky went exactly, so you start to wander around, trying to guess where he’d choose to hide until he grabs you with his arm, pulling you inside an empty room before quickly locking the door.
“Bucky!” A half-yelp leaves your lips, but it’s muffled by his hand.
“It’s me,” he whispers against your ear before he starts to kiss your neck sloppily. “Relax.”
He doesn’t waste any time. His hands are everywhere on your body: grabbing your breasts over the clothes, squeezing your ass.
“I missed you.” His breathy whisper gives you goosebumps. 
“Oh, I missed you, too.” You grab his face with both of your hands and finally kiss him properly. He happily sighs and lets you take control. His lips are soft, tasting like bourbon, which surprises you because he is usually a beer kind of guy. Maybe he decided to try something different tonight since he isn’t the one paying. 
That reminds you of the party and everyone inside. Including Steve Rogers. Bucky’s ex-best friend. And that make the anxious feeling in your gut returns. You need to tell him about what happened between you and Steve. Even if you’re afraid that it would change everything between you two. But you aren’t ready to lose him. Not when you’ve just started to realize how strong your feelings are for him.
He doesn’t fail to notice the shift in your mood. You aren’t as present in the kiss as if you have something on your mind. He stops kissing you unexpectedly, making you give him a confused look.
“Are you okay?” He sounds genuinely concerned.
You take a deep breath. Maybe it’s just better to tell him now and get it over with. What’s the point of delaying the inevitable?
“I gotta tell you something.”
You see how his concern grows even more. His expression is serious and full of worry.
“Do you want to break this off? Is that what it is?” 
God, the way he asked that question just hurts something inside you. He sounded so broken, so afraid.
“No, no! Of course not.” You quickly clear the air, leaving no space for any kind of misunderstanding. “But you might wanna break things off with me after I tell you… this.” 
You can see how your words confuse him. He squints, trying to understand what you are talking about and coming up with a reasonable explanation. You know whatever he’ll think about won’t be even close to the reality, but you didn’t expect his response either.
“Are you pregnant? Is that why you are nervous?” His hand caresses your cheek as he asks you. “You know I wouldn’t leave you for something like that, right? We can do whatever you want. It’s totally up to you.” 
No, you aren’t pregnant. That’s not even a possibility. You’ve been on birth control even before you two started to have sex. Still, hearing his soft-spoken words makes you melt inside. 
“No, baby, I’m not pregnant.” 
You both take a breath after eliminating another possibility. He looks at you fora few seconds, trying to decide if he should say it or not.
“Is it about you dating Steve?”
Words can’t describe how surprised you are. Questions flood your mind instantly. How much does he know? When did he find out? Who told him? And dating? No, you definitely did not date Steve Rogers. God, you have so many questions to ask. You don’t know where to start. 
“You know about that.” It comes out more like a question than a statement. The shock is so clear in your voice. 
“Of course, I know.” 
“How? When?” The questions come out one after another and make him smile a little. You stop yourself from asking even more and decide to make one thing clear. “And I did not date him. It was a one-time thing.”
“Oh.” He sounds surprised. Maybe he thought it was more serious, but if so why didn’t he bring it up before?
“When did you find out?” You have to know. 
“Not so long ago.”
“Who told you?” 
“Sam. He thought there was some kind of tension between you two, but I couldn’t see it. So he explained.” He doesn’t sound like it bothers him much, which is relieving.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I could ask you the same.”
He’s right. He can ask the same question. Your answer is simple, though.
“I actually forgot it happened.” Is he really smiling? “It wasn’t that memorable to me.” 
“That bad, huh?” 
You can’t help but laugh. God, you love him so much. You were worried sick about how he would react and here he is joking about it.
“Do you want an actual answer?” You finally ask. 
“Yeah, sure.” He doesn’t seem to mind.
“It was okay.” 
Now it’s his turn to laugh. “So it was bad.” 
“Like I said, not memorable.” You choose to repeat. You don’t wanna disrespect him that much, but you don’t even remember much about it. That was one of the reasons you wanted to stay friends anyway.
“Doll, it’s fine.” He finally decides to answer you seriously.
“So you don’t mind?” 
“It was way before us. It’s not my place to judge you for it.” 
That’s a huge relief. You were so worried he would just choose some kind of bro code over you but no. He chose you. You breathe out with a smile on your face.
“And if someone is gonna get judged for their past, it’s not gonna be you.”
You instantly frown because you understood immediately what he meant by it.
“That’s not the same thing. I chose to hook up with him. You didn’t choose to get brainwashed.”
“Yeah, of course, but I am the one who killed those people.”
“Bucky, no.” You touch his chest, trying to comfort him without realizing it. “Don’t go there. Please. That’s not a fair comparison.” You want him to be free of this guilt. He’s trying to redeem himself so hard, it has to end somewhere.
“Fine.” He finally accepts it. “I don’t care about your past. I only care about your present and future. Is that better?” 
“Yes, it is better.” You wrap your arms around his neck and close the distance. “You are always so forgiving, yet you are so harsh to yourself.”
“As long as you are mine, I don’t care about anything.” 
That does it. An unexpected jolt of arousal overwhelms you. Suddenly, you don’t feel shy anymore. 
“Can you…” You try to collect your words. “Can you fuck me like you did the last time?” Asking that out loud feels a little weird. Maybe you should’ve drunk a bit more.
You watch as his eyes widen in response. Oh, he wants that as much as you do. No need to feel shy.
“Which position exactly?” He sounds so cheeky, but you can see his question is genuine. He needs additional info because it wasn’t a one-and-done.
“Against the wall.” You bit your lip, remembering how good it felt. So rough, yet so full of pleasure. You can’t help but shiver when you remember that orgasm.
“Fuck.” He surpasses a moan. “We have to be quiet, doll. Can you do that for me?” His voice is really low.
You eagerly nod in response. You aren’t sure if you can actually do it, but you will try your best if he’s going to do what you asked for. 
“God, I love you so much.” You can’t hold yourself back anymore. Hearing those words from him sparks something unstoppable inside you. Grabbing him by the face, you crash your lips against him. 
“I love you, Bucky.” You keep kissing him. “So much.” Your hands move south, unbuckling him as quickly as possible. 
Your movements are rushed but not sloppy. Like you did this a million times before. It feels familiar, but it doesn’t change how much you need him. Urgently. And he doesn’t seem to mind that your act as if you are in a hurry. When you finally unbutton his pants, they pool around his ankles, and that’s when he decides to lift you up. His hands stay under your ass while he presses you against the wall, your dress already curled up around your waist. 
“Are you ready for me, doll?” He asks with that voice he uses when he’s really aroused. It turns you on even more and you didn’t know that was possible.
“Yes.” You want him inside you so much. You need his lips on you. “Please, Bucky, I need you.”
“You do?” Oh, youknow this tone too well. He loves to tease you and make you talk more about what you want, and it’s always so rewarding. So you don’t hold back.
“Please, fuck me, I need your cock so badly.” Even though it’s dimly lit inside the room, you see the shift in his eyes. Your words are feeding some kind of primal need inside him. “I need you, baby, please. I’m so wet.”
“Let’s see if that’s true.” He holds you with one hand and aligns himself to your entrance with the other. You shouldn’t be surprised by how strong he is, but every time he manages to astonish you. He doesn’t even struggle to carry or hold you. When he finally thrusts inside you, a loud moan escapes your lips. The stretch is so fucking delicious. “Shh.” 
“Sorry, sorry.” You quickly try to apologize. “It just feels ssso good.” A low moan follows your words.
“You know I love to hear you, doll.” He starts moving. “I love how you always beg for more.” His free hand goes to your head, pushing a strand of hair back so he can see your face better. “But this time we need to keep it quiet. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”
“I’ll be good, I promise.”
That makes him smile. You wrap your hands around his neck again, wanting to be close to him. That’s when you both hear a sound really close to you. So close that you feel like it came right at the door. You both still for a second, listening to find out if someone is outside, but there’s no more sound. So that noise is long forgotten in a minute.
You don’t even care if someone is outside. You don’t care if someone hears you fucking. Bucky Barnes loves you. No one else matters. Your lips clash against his. It’s such a sloppy kiss, but you love every second of it. His hand moves to your neck, holding you in place as he starts to pound on you.
“Is this how you wanted it?” He keeps asking, wanting you to speak, but you can't. “Is it that good you went speechless?”
You nod eagerly.
“Come on, darling. Use your words.” He’s moving relentlessly, taking your breath away with each stroke.
“Yes.” You finally manage to say. “Oh god, yes.”
“Yes to what?” He taunts you. “Is that what you wanted or is it that good?”
“Both!” You say louder than you intended, then you remember you promised to be good and you lower your voice. “Yes to both!”
“Good girl.” His flesh hand travels to your neckline. He quickly pushes the straps of your dress down more, finally revealing your breasts. You aren’t wearing a bra, thanks to the padded dress. “God, look at you.” He marvels at you. “Such a pretty little doll. All mine.” 
His mouth latches on your right breast, sucking and biting it while he keeps moving. He knows how to use his mouth well everywhere. It makes everything so much better. You can feel that pleasure starts to bottle up, your abdomen tensing.
Oh, he truly knows how to get you there. He knows how much you love it when you two climax together. It feels heavenly… like you are in your own little world and there’s no one but him there. Nothing else matters. As your legs start to shake with overwhelming pleasure, you imagine going back inside, talking to others while his come is dripping out of you. No one would know what you two were up to. Not a single soul. It’s your little secret. The thought makes you moan a little bit louder. Your hands grip hard on his shoulders. 
Bucky moans right next to your ear. “God, you feel so good.” His hands are gripping hard on your ass. “I wish I can stay inside you forever. I don’t wanna move. I don’t wanna go anywhere else. I just wanna keep fucking you, until you beg me to stop.” Does he know what his words do to you? Does he notice how it amplifies your orgasm? Or does he just say whatever he wants to say? “I’m gonna come.” He warns you. “I’m gonna come, baby. I’m gonna come.” 
You ride your orgasms together, as he empties himself inside you. His head falls on your shoulder while he keeps holding you. His lips press against the crook of your neck. While you keep taking deep breaths, you can feel his heart racing. 
“Are you okay?” He asks while moving away enough to take himself out of you.
“Okay?” You question as he gently puts you on your feet. “I feel amazing.” 
You lift yourself on your tiptoes and give him a full wet kiss. 
“Now I believe you.” He gives you a little smile that only makes you want to kiss him again.
“I’ll be louder when we go home so you won’t have an ounce of doubt.”
“Yours or mine?” His question comes instantly.
“I don’t care.” You really don’t. All you want is him. Where, when, and how are just details.
He helps you shape your hair back to normal while you pull the stripes up. Your underwear is a mess and you are dripping out already. Bucky takes a napkin out of his pocket and kneels in front of you. He gently pushes the serviette between your folds, cleaning you up enough so you can go back inside. 
“Thank you.” You love it when he takes care of you like this. “But you know that won’t be enough. I will keep dripping all night.” 
“I’m counting on that.” You can see on his face how much that thought excites him. “Keep dripping onto your underwear while talking to others. Remember what we did here. Imagine what we will do later.” He stands up while you fix your dress and you realize that you can’t wait to leave this party already.
“You have such a dirty mouth. I love it.” You grab his face with one hand and just force him to kiss you. Not that you can actually force him to do anything, but he lets you anyway. “Come on. Let’s go back.”
**
It’s been a while since you returned to the party. Everything seems normal. No one even realized you were absent. No one is suspecting anything. That encourages you to look around for Bucky. When your eyes meet, he gives you a teasing smile while casually chatting with Sam.
The whole night you didn’t say a word to him. Not around other people. But you don't see any reason to keep avoiding him. Everyone knows you two are friendly. So you decide to walk over and chat a little.
“Oh, look who remembered us!” Sam jokes as soon as he notices you.
“Hello to you too, Sam.” You don’t mind his teasing. “Good to see you missed me.”
“Hey.” Bucky raises his beer bottle to casually greet you. He probably got tired of the bourbon.
“How are you, fellas?”
“Oh you know, missions and drinks. Same stuff,” Bucky answers your question. 
“Nothing new?” You tease him, just to see how he would react.
“Nope. Just little old me doing the same things.”
“Really, I keep telling him to go on a date or something but no. He prefers this misery instead.”
You try to surpass a smile forming on your lips, well aware of the exact reason why he’s declining the offer.
While you’re staring at each other, Sam notices Steve on the other side of the room and raises his hand. 
“Hey, Rogers!”
That’s definitely the last thing you need tonight, but there’s no way you can stop Sam. Steve joins your group in a couple of seconds, but for some reason, he looks… kinda miserable.
“You alright, man?” 
“Yeah, yeah.” He absently answers. “I’m fine. Feeling a bit under the weather.”
“Maybe that super serum is finally wearing off.” Sam jokes and it manages to make Steve smile for a second.
“How are you all?” Steve asks while looking at the whole group, but his eyes stay on you for a bit longer than the rest.
“Oh, we are fine. We were talking about the lack of Mr. Barnes’s dating life.”
God, he isn’t going to let that go, is he? 
“Speaking of dating…” Sam continues while taking his phone off. “I met this guy the other day and he’s perfect for you!” Is he talking to you? He shows you a photo of this blonde guy who honestly looks alright, but he’s practically a stranger. “He’s a good guy and he fits your type. I can give your his number if you want.”
“What the fuck, Sam?” Your response makes the rest laugh. “You are playing matchmaker now?”
“I mean… someone gotta do it and I was hoping you would find someone to return the favor for me.”
You look at Bucky just to see he’s kind of enjoying this while Steve looks thoughtful for some reason.
“That’s definitely not my type.”
“Really?” Sam side-eyes Steve for a second to see his reaction, but it’s like he already knew that. 
“And I am already seeing someone, so…”
“Wait a second!” Sam sounds surprised. “You are seeing someone? Since when?”
“Why are you so surprised? You thought I would inform you about my love life or something?” Bucky is laughing quietly on the side, and Sam looks a little uncomfortable.
“I don’t know. I thought you were single. You are already off the market, huh?”
Bucky subtly nods to his last comment but doesn’t say anything.
“Yeah, it seems so.” You put your drink on the nearest surface and stretch your neck a little. 
“Tired?” Bucky asks this time.
“Yes. I’m thinking about leaving. Maybe I should call an Uber or something.” You make a move to take your phone out.
“Actually… I was considering the same thing. I can drop you home, you can save up the money.”
“Really?” You didn’t expect him to offer to leave with you. Usually, one of you leaves first and the other follows, but maybe after tonight's events, he decided that there’s no reason to hide anymore. “Sure, that'd be great.”
You see Sam rolling his eyes. “There go hours of effort.”
“You wanted to leave before?” It’s obvious you are talking to Bucky.
“No, not really, but he assumes that and tries to talk me into staying every time.” You start to laugh. It’s not hard to imagine why Sam thinks he’d rather be somewhere else.
“Sorry, Sam, but we are old. Apparently we need more sleep.” You are mocking yourself and Bucky at the same time, wondering how he’ll react.
“He is old, but you… not so much.”
“My soul is old and that’s enough.” You raise both of your hands and wave a goodbye. “Anyways, time to go. Good to see both of you.” Your thumbs and index fingers move around like two guns pointed at Sam and Steve.
“Good night,” Bucky simply adds.
While you two quietly walk away, Sam is already suspecting something is up.
“Did I drink too much or is there something going on between them?” Sam asks when you are far enough not to hear it.
“They are together.” Steve tries to sound as casual as possible.
“Wait! Really?” He thought something was just blooming between you two, not a full on relationship. “How do you know?”
“I heard them.” Steve notices how it sounds and quickly adds: “Talking.”
“And you are okay with that?”
“Yeah, sure.” That doesn’t sound convincing at all. “It’s not my place to say anything. It was never that serious.” He isn’t sure if he’s trying to convince Sam or himself. “I mean… I think she’d want to get serious, but she talked about staying friends and I jumped on the opportunity and agreed because I didn’t want a relationship.”
Sam nods. “Well, good for them I guess. They seem like a good match.”
“They really do.”
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