#but the rain is always gonna come if you're standing with me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky · 9 months

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The Rain is Always Gonna Come if You're Standing With Me | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Hi, friends. This one took me approximately 100 years to finish because school is eating me alive. This one is based on Peace from folklore, which is an underrated song, in my opinion.

Word count: 12.3k

Warnings: Bucky's negative self image, harassment, slight reader injury, people being assholes

"But I'm a fire, and I'll keep your brittle heart warm If your cascade ocean wave blues come All these people think love's for show But I would die for you in secret The devil's in the details, but you got a friend in me Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?"

“Oh, you don’t have to do that, doll-” Bucky said as you swiped the dirty dishes from the table. He made a grab for them, but his enhanced speed was no match for you. You expertly evaded his capture, slipping away from his grasp with almost no effort. You knew him too well, knew his movement patterns and habits. Anticipating his every move was easy. With a cocky laugh, you turned on your heel and headed for the sink.

“Sweetheart, really,” he called after you, “I’ll clean up.”

“But you made breakfast.” You set the two bowls that once held yogurt, fruit, and granola in the sink and turned on the water. “It’s only fair that I do the dishes.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and gave a laugh, “that wasn’t breakfast, baby. It was just a… a morning snack.” In only a few long strides, he met you at the sink. His large hands snatched yours and pulled them to his broad chest, halting your efforts to clean.

You cocked your head to the side, “A morning snack, huh?”

“Yeah. I mean, I know we’re going out for breakfast, but I didn’t want you to be hungry.” He added a fraction of extra pressure to your hands, pulling them closer against his body. “I gotta take care of my girl.”

“Well, that’s very thoughtful of you,” you placed a quick peck to his lips. “And because you are so thoughtful and sweet, let me do the dishes.” With a playful tug, you tried to free your hands from his grasp. But Bucky held firm.

He shook his head, “Nope. Not gonna happen.” Suddenly, he released your hands, spun you around, and landed a light slap to your ass; it happened so fast it left you giggling. “You go get dressed, I’ll take care of it.”

Your giggly “sir, yes, sir” floated down the hall as you marched toward the bedroom. This was to be the perfect day. A trip to your favorite bookstore, followed by what you swore was the best chicken and waffles the city had to offer. After breakfast, the two of you were set to visit the new shark exhibit at the science museum, eat lunch in the park, and grab an ice cream from your favorite spot.

Bucky planned it all out, ensuring a flawless blueprint. And while you appreciated his attention to detail, you would’ve been happy with a day at home. All you wanted- all you needed- was to spend time with him.

And time with Bucky was lacking as of late.

He stood at the sink, drying the now clean dishes as emotion overcame him. He couldn’t believe he was here- home- with you. He waited for this day. He hungered and ached for a day without danger, without bloodshed. He waited for a day spent with you. And only you.

He’d just been so busy lately- too busy. Over the past few months, he’d been dragged around the world more times than he could count. His missions only seemed to grow longer. And each time he got the call from Hill, she sent him farther and farther away.

He found himself struggling under the weight of severe, mind-numbing exhaustion. Anxiety. His body threatened to give out with each new wound he received, each drop of blood he lost. But he didn’t mind the constant paint or fatigue. What upset him most was spending so much time away from you.

The two of you lived together now. You shared an address, a roof, a bedroom. The universe somehow allowed Bucky to have a home- a safe, comfortable home- with the person he loved most. But he’d spent so little time there lately that he feared it wasn’t his anymore. That he had no claim to the space. He always felt like a mere passerby upon arriving home, like more of a wanderer than a resident. He always had to stop himself from knocking, had to force himself to use his key.

But who was he to waltz through the front door after being gone for so long? Who was he to act like he owned the place? He thought maybe he didn’t deserve it, this home you shared. And he knew he didn’t deserve you.

Over the past few months, he spent only a handful of nights at home while you held down the fort. You kept things together. He missed out on so much of your life; what if you didn’t want him to be a part of it anymore?

When Bucky did come home, he always showed up in the middle of the night. Sore. Exhausted. He’d drag his body into the bed you shared and pass out before he even got the chance to pull you close. He’d sleep late, his body too fatigued to wake before the afternoon. When he finally stirred, the two of you did your best to catch up. He wanted to hear every detail of your life, and you his. But without fail, the emotion won. You’d cry together, wrapped in the other’s arms, whispering “I love yous” over and over.

And without fail, some world ending threat would interrupt. Danger always found a way to force the two of you apart, isolating you from one another. And only twenty-four hours after arriving home, Bucky would leave. Again.

But over the last few weeks, things started quieting down. It was slow at first. Subtle. But Bucky sensed a shift in the air. He could almost feel the world settling. At first, he thought he’d lost his mind. But Sam, too, felt the earth calming. As did Hill. Whatever sweeping, overwhelming chaos that sent the entire planet into disaster so many months ago seemed to finally lose steam. Fewer calls came in, fewer alerts woke Bucky in the middle of the night.

And three nights ago, Bucky came home for good.

The adrenaline that kept him going for so long evaporated as soon as he made it through the front door. The anxiety melted from his body. It was the only thing, he realized, that kept him upright. And with it gone, his body gave out. He crumbled and collapsed to the floor as sweet relief flooded his every cell. He didn’t care that he was hurt, that he was worn out; he was just happy to be home.

But a sharp shriek flooded his system with fear once again.

You stood frozen in the doorway of your bedroom, just a few feet away, with your hands clasped over your mouth. Tears welled in your eyes. Your chest rose and fell as sharp breaths dragged into your lungs. The sight of his limp body sent you jumping to the worst, most tragic conclusions.

“No, I’m- I’m okay, baby.” With great effort, Bucky pulled himself to his feet.

It was then that you snapped out of your horrified trance. You rushed to Bucky’s side, throwing your arms around his neck, and pressing your body to his. You needed to be as close to him as possible, needed your souls to touch. His arms wound around you and pulled you closer still, desperate for you.

“You’re okay…” you whispered against his neck. It wasn’t a question, but an affirmation.

“I’m okay,” he said. “I’m home.”

That night, after he took a shower and let you clean his wounds, he planned this perfect day. And though you told him it wasn’t necessary, he wanted to make things up to you. He wanted to apologize for being gone so long. For breaking your heart over and over and over again. For disappearing.

He knew how his absences affected you. Knew you worried about him constantly when he was gone. He noticed the way you bit your nails down to the quick. How you picked at your cuticles till they bled. Your tired eyes looked bloodshot, and your bottom lip chewed raw. He knew your anxiety gave you stomach pain and headaches. Knew that you could barely eat or sleep when he was away.

His constant disappearing act put you through hell. And he hated himself for it. All he wanted- all he ever wanted- was to make you happy. To bring you calm and ease and tranquility. And now that he was home, he swore to himself that he’d give you peace.

Bucky finished with the dishes and headed into the bedroom, hoping to soak up as much time with you as possible. But just as he made his way into the en suite bathroom, your grumbled, aggravated voice caught his attention.

“Oh, what the fuck?” You let out a deep huff, staring down at your phone with a sharp seriousness.

Bucky popped his head into the bathroom, “Everything okay?”

A look of surprise splashed across your face; you hadn’t heard him come in. “Oh- hey. Yeah. Everything is-” you gestured to your phone, “everything’s fine. My friend just sent me a stupid gossip article.”

“Anything good?” Bucky shot you a wink, knowing damn well he was clueless about the latest reality tv drama.

“No.” The word carried a hefty weight and fell to the ground with finality.

Bucky clocked your tone, your expression- both struck him as too serious for a gossip rag. His muscles stiffened ever so slightly at sight of your displeasure.

“Just dumb shit. People writing whole articles over things they have no idea about.” You rolled your eyes and slipped your phone into your pocket. A deep breath acted as a reset to your system, clearing the fog of frustration from your mind. “And it doesn’t even matter, cause we have a perfect day planned.”

Bucky, too, took a deep breath. He relaxed into a smile and leaned against the door jam. “We sure do, doll.”

He was too accustomed to disaster. Always prepared for the worst. The slightest change in your demeanor sent him hurdling toward the worst possible conclusion. His body was home, but his mind remained stuck in a never-ending battle.

“I’m just gonna put my shoes on- I’ll be ready when you are.” Bucky stepped away and did his best to shake it off. ‘Everything’s fine, it’s all good’, he said to himself as he laced up his boots. ‘It was just an article about Vanderpump Rules or whatever.’ His palms dragged up and down his thighs, his chest rose and fell rhythmically. He learned how to self-regulate, to talk himself down, long ago- before he ever met you. It was his only option back then.

The sound of your footsteps bounding down the hall commanded Bucky’s attention. He snapped out his dimly lit world and stepped into your technicolor atmosphere. A comforting sigh of relief spread though his body as he noticed the bright smile on your face. Any evidence of the upset your gossip rag caused was long gone, replaced by an all-encompassing warmth.

“Alright, Barnes,” you grabbed your purse from the hook by the door and slung it over your shoulder, “let’s do this.”

The warm summer air greeted the two of you as stepped out of your apartment building. The busy city pulsed with the possibilities of a perfect Saturday. People passed by with dogs in tow. Cars honked. Birds sang. And finally, things felt right. Everything fell off its axis when Bucky was gone. The world turned in the wrong direction, the sun set on the opposite side. And only his return could set things properly in motion.

“Okay, to the bookstore,” Bucky weaved his fingers with yours and gave you a gentle tug in the right direction, “here we go!”

Bucky never had an affinity for going out in public. He didn’t particularly enjoy the crowded sidewalks or busy subways. Throngs of strangers surrounding him from every angle only ever served to put him on edge. But he’d improved. He’d worked through his anxiety and his fears- all to be with you. It seemed, though, that his paranoia threatened to creep in again. After so much time away, surrounded by danger, he found himself scanning every face on the street, assessing possible threats.

He always experienced some level of recognition in public, sure, but today felt different. Every pair of eyes seemed to bore through him, every mouth whispered his name. His muscles tensed, his jaw locked.

“You okay?” you pulled Bucky to the side, out of the flow of people, “you seem a little on edge.”

“Oh-” Bucky snaked his hand out of yours, realizing all at once the force of his grip. He watched you rub at the sore spots he created and silently cursed himself. “No, I’m good, I’m okay. I think I’m just-” He eyed the area once more, “I think I’m just being paranoid. Is it me or is everyone staring at me?”

Your heart stopped. “Um, no, I don’t think everyone’s staring,” A casual shrug and a shake of your head punctuated your thought. “I think you’ve got some residual adrenaline or something, you know?”

Bucky nodded. “Must be it. I’m sorry about your hand, baby.” He pressed his lips to the indentations his fingers left behind.

“I’ll survive,” you threw him a wink, “but the kisses help.”

The two of you continued your journey with Bucky’s worries only slightly assuaged. It seemed to him that hundreds of eyes raked over him with each passing second, but he forced his anxiety behind a wall. He wasn’t going to mess up this day with you- he couldn’t. He didn’t know how many chances he had left, and if this was the last one, he couldn’t afford to ruin it.

Block after block passed as you and Bucky got closer to the bookstore. Sure, there was a similar shop only a few minutes from the apartment- but it wasn’t as cute or as special as the one in the village. And Bucky wanted this day perfect. He’d do anything to make you happy. And so, he sucked it up and vowed to make the trek with you, no matter how nervous the public made him.

But with only a few blocks to go, you pulled him to the side once again.

“Hang on, shoe’s untied,” you attempted to bend down and tie your loose lace, but Bucky refused to let you. He, instead, knelt on the sidewalk and gave your shoe a proper double-knot.

He stared up at you with adoration in his eyes and a warm smile on his face, “this is almost like a Cinderella moment,” he joked. “Except I-”

Something caught his eye.

And before you had the chance to intervene, he was gone. He forced his way past cyclists and families with children, his body seemingly drawn in by a magnet toward whatever grabbed his attention. He stood with his back to you, examining a newspaper box.

“Come on, Buck, no one reads the paper anymore,” you laughed, attempting to sway his focus. But he didn’t move.

His gaze remained on the grainy photo of the two of you holding hands outside your building. For the second time that day, you scanned the headline: ‘SERIAL KILLER’S PR RELATIONSHIP: The Winter Soldier’s Attempt to Win Over the American Public’.

“What- what is this?” Bucky looked to you for help, for context. “Why did someone wrote about us?”

A haunting sense of hopelessness filled his eyes, leaving you gutted. And though he wanted to look away, he couldn’t seem to pull his eyes from the page. Each second spent examining the harsh headline caused him more pain, more anguish.

He truly couldn’t believe what he saw. And he couldn’t believe he’d dragged you into the crossfire.

“Hey, don’t pay it any mind, okay?” You fought to meet his eyeline, “It’s just stupid gossip-”

A realization flashed across his face, “is this what you were reading this morning?”

A slow nod confirmed his fears. “I wasn’t trying to hide it from you, I just-”

Bucky snatched a paper from the box and began reading at lightning speed. With each sentence, the dread filling his chest grew heavier. “Hydra’s deadliest weapon has a new victim,” Bucky read aloud. “though she hasn’t been bloodied or brutalized…yet. We’ll see just how long Barnes’s new PR ‘girlfriend’ survives.”

The words cut him deep. They wormed their way into his brain and unearthed the fears he’d long tried to put to rest. He knew he was wrong to be with you. He was wrong to indulge in his feelings for you. Dating you meant putting you in danger, and he’d known that all along. But you were never scared of him- and if you were, you didn’t show it. This article, however, cemented his belief: your relationship was a ticking time bomb; being Bucky’s girlfriend meant signing your I love you’s in blood.

“Wait-” he dragged his eyes upward and met your anxious stare. “What does this mean- what’s a ‘PR relationship’?”

You rolled your eyes at the phrase, just like you had earlier that morning, “’public relations relationship’. It’s a fake relationship that’s been arranged by a PR firm. People usually do it to get publicity or fix their public image after a scandal.”

Bucky knew there was more to your answer, and he had enough questions to last till dinner. But the article was long- too long. He knew it had to be full to the brim with the most brutal, vile rhetoric possible. Reading it would hurt, yes. But he needed to know exactly what the article said about him, about you.

He buried his face in the paper once more, only surfacing to share a line or two with you. “They think you’re being paid to date me? That we’ve been doing something called-” he double checked the article, “‘pap walks’? What’s a pap walk?”

Even in times of crisis, Bucky’s lack of modern knowledge still managed to pull a smile from you. “It’s where you call the paparazzi so they can take pictures of you, but you pretend it was spontaneous.”

Bucky looked stunned, “Why would anyone do that?”

You shrugged, “you’d be surprised.”

People took pictures of Bucky without his permission constantly- it happened all the time. They snapped photos at the grocery store and on the subway. And no matter how subtle they tried to be, Bucky always clocked it. He could almost feel the lenses on him. But he didn’t notice the person taking this picture on the front page. Maybe if he had, he could’ve stopped it. Maybe he could’ve saved you from being exposed like this.

He shook his head and disappeared once again into the disgusting story written about the two of you. He didn’t care much what they said about him. People hated him- that wasn’t knew information. And though he didn’t love being one of the most reviled men in history, he’d come to terms with it. But now that someone dragged you into the fray, the fire within him reignited.

“His new ‘girlfriend’ functions as a means of improving the public’s opinion of Barnes and humanizing the ex-Winter Soldier. It’s a PR strategy we’ve seen a million times- one that could possibly salvage Barnes’s reputation,” Bucky read aloud. He eyed the people who passed, waiting until they crossed the street to continue.

“But what if she herself is no angel?” He rolled his eyes at the thought. “Surely, no one in their right mind would risk their life to date a proven serial killer. So, it’s entirely possible that she herself may not be in her right mind. Maybe she, too, is a criminal. Acting as Barnes’s new love interest could possibly knock time off her sentence or hours off her court mandated community service.”

Bucky stared at you, aghast. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I- I can’t believe they’d say that about you…”

“Buck, it’s okay,” you shrugged. “We both know I’m actually in love with you for real. I don’t have a prison sentence to shorten or community service hours to perform. And the last time I checked, no one is paying me to date you.” You cut a glance to the newspaper box, full of papers with front page coverage about you and Bucky, “I’m not worried about their bullshit.”

Bucky’s grip on the paper tightened, crinkling the edges. “But why’d they have to drag you into it? You haven’t done anything wrong-”

“Neither have you,” your tone was insistent, steadfast.

“We both know that’s not true…” Bucky loved your support, your assertions that he was an innocent man. But he never believed them. He knew he had blood on his hands even if you couldn’t- or refused to- see it.

“We both know you had no choice,” your rebuttal didn’t waver. “But, speaking of things that aren’t true,” you gestured toward the paper, “they also dropped Sam’s name.”

Bucky scanned through the article until he found the paragraph in question. “Why put in the effort to clean the blood from Barnes’s tarnished reputation? Two words: Sam Wilson,” Bucky paused his reading and stared up at you with wide eyes. All you could do was nod.

“Barnes and Wilson have been seen together on many occasions and have even been photographed on Wilson’s family boat in Louisiana. But Barnes’s association with Sam Wilson, AKA the New Captain America, only hurts the Captain America brand. Even if the two did take down the Flag Smashers as a team, Barnes is a bloodstain on the brilliant red, white, and blue of Wilson’s Cap.”

Hearing the words aloud twisted the knife. Sure, skimming the article hurt, but listening to Bucky read every last disgusting word hurt you in ways you never imagined. He deserved better. He deserved a world that loved him. A world that welcomed him home and celebrated his life. He deserved a fucking medal of honor for simply surviving what Hydra put him through. But he didn’t get medals or high praise; he, instead, got spit on by people on the subway.

“But if this new woman improves Barnes’s image in the public eye, his destruction of Wilson’s mantle may be mitigated.”

Bucky balled up the paper and crushed it into the nearest garbage can. His hands shook with anger, with anxiety.

“I hadn’t even- I didn’t even think of that…” he leaned against the newspaper box, dejected. “I didn’t realize I was ruining Sam's reputation just by being friends with him.” Despair darkened his expression. He knew getting close to people was selfish- he just never realized how selfish. And in one fell swoop, he ruined the lives of the two people he cared about most.

“You’re not- you’re not ruining anything,” you took Bucky’s face in your hands, cradling his cheeks. “These kinds of stories are all made up, baby. There’s no sources or actual information for them to work from, so they just write whatever will get them the most attention.”

Bucky’s gaze fell downward. “I don’t know, doll…”

“But I do. I know.” Your words came out desperate, pleading. Something inside of you shook with a frantic need to mend Bucky’s broken heart. You’d never seen him this despondent, this torn apart. “And I’m not gonna let you doubt yourself because of some low budget, piece of shit gossip article.” Regardless of the emotion holding you hostage, your voice didn’t waver. You stood firm in your conviction, determined to help Bucky find his way out of the spiral. “I love you. I love being with you. I missed you so much- I hate when you’re gone. And Sam- Sam loves you, too. I mean, not as much as me…” you shot him a wink. “But he is your best friend. He cares about you. And I can guarantee that he’s never- even for a second- thought that you were ruining his reputation.”

Bucky gave a shake of his head.

“Hey, you know Sam doesn’t care about that kind of stuff- he doesn’t give a shit what people think.” Sam knew Bucky as the ruthless assassin, the broken fugitive, and the rehabilitated man seeking amends. He’d seen the darkest, most twisted version of Bucky created by Hydra- even fought against him. But he didn’t see Bucky as a villain anymore. He saw only his friend, the tortured soul who tried his best every day.

Bucky lifted your hands from his face and held them to his chest instead. He gave a deep, heavy sigh that vibrated under your palms. He didn’t know what to do, what to say. Part of him wished to go back into cryo and escape the stares of the world.

You could see him crumbling, collapsing in on himself like a dying star. He was drowning in his own mind, and you offered him a life preserver. “Hey, I know it must feel fucking awful to see a story like this about yourself. And I know you hate that Sam and I are involved. But it’s not your fault.” You gripped his t-shirt in your fists, desperate to get your point across. “This whole thing is so predatory and evil- it’s killing me to see you hurting like this. But I swear to you that this does not matter to the rest of the world. they won’t even notice.” Bucky’s stare sliced through you. Something in his eyes appeared hopeful- but only for a moment. The brightness died suddenly, replaced by despair.

“Seriously, Buck, people these days don’t even have the attention span to read an article this long.” Bucky didn’t laugh at your attempted levity. You dropped your joking tone and grew serious. “I don’t want you to think that this changes anything- it doesn’t. This will not have any ramifications. It will all blow over. The news cycle moves so fast now- by tomorrow, this same shitty paper will publish something that’s, like, ‘Elton John is secretly an alien.’”

Bucky didn’t answer. He simply rested his shoulders against the cool, brick wall and let his head fall back. He wondered if the fear people held for him would ever subside, if he’d ever be seen as anything other than a monster. His legacy was soaked in blood. It hung over his head every day, dripping crimson onto his skin. No shower could undo the stains- no matter how hard he scrubbed, he’d always be the stuff of nightmares.

“Okay, hey, how about this,” you reeled Bucky back in, saving him from the dark recesses of his mind. “Let’s just go home, alright? We can hole up and hide out. Watch movies, order takeout. We’ll just stay out of the public eye until this bullshit blows over.”

The offer enticed him. Escaping the stares of strangers, their horrified expressions- it sounded idyllic. The thought of just the two of you snuggled together on the couch, marathoning all of What We Do in the Shadows with Chinese takeout in hand was tempting. Bucky could feel the ‘yes’ forming on his lips. But at the last second, he refused with a shake of his head.

Bucky made a promise to you. After being an absentee boyfriend for months, he planned out the perfect day and swore on his life to deliver. He couldn’t break any more promises- not after he was gone for so long. And he had so much to make up for. So many date nights and lazy weekends fell by the wayside while he was away. He racked up a stack of debt in your relationship, and if he didn’t start paying it off soon, he feared you’d cancel his account.

But he knew you- knew you didn’t care about these things. You didn’t consider him accountable for the time he missed or hold a grudge against him. You were gracious- too gracious- of him. And if he rattled off his reasons for refusing your offer, he knew you’d sweep them aside. He knew you’d lead him home without hesitation and stay cooped up inside until the world eased up on him. And you’d miss out on your perfect day.

Bucky wasn’t going to let that happen.

“I think it’s actually better if…” he eyed the people passing, certain they were shooting the two of you dirty looks. “I think it’s better if I just go about my day. If we go home and hide, I’ll obsess, you know? I’ll get trapped in my own head.” He quickly tacked on an addendum, “but if you’re not okay being out in public right now, I understand. They involved you in this mess, too.”

You shrugged, “it doesn’t bother me. I know our relationship is real. That’s all that matters.”

And for a split second, Bucky’s worries disappeared. You were so sure of your love for him. So unbothered by what everyone else had to say. You didn’t let the opinions of others get to you; you loved Bucky, end of story. You adapted to every hurdle and challenge brought on by dating the ex- Winter Soldier. And you did so with a smile.

“Okay, good. Then I guess our next stop is the bookstore,” he said with a small smile. You tried to turn and head in that direction, but Bucky caught your hand, stopping you. “And hey- if anyone on the way there gives you trouble, you just say the word, okay?”

But no one gave you any trouble. The walk to the bookstore was quiet. Unremarkable. No one hollered close-minded comments at Bucky. No one gave either of you venomous glares. The calm shocked Bucky. He’d been so sure that this day would fall apart. That everyone who read that article would converge on the two of you all at once, harassing and degrading you until you retreated home. But no one said a word. The two of you simply strolled hand in hand, soaking in the warm summer sun. And Bucky’s hope for a perfect day renewed.

“I thought it would be in this section…” Bucky scanned the ‘fantasy’ section of the bookstore, searching for a specific novel. He took the high shelves, and you took the low, meeting in the middle after a fruitless search.

“Yeah, I didn’t see it, babe,” you rose from your squatted position, two mystery novels under your arm. “Maybe you should ask an employee? I can stay here and keep looking, just in case we missed it.”

“Yeah…” Bucky gave the area another cursory glance, to no avail. “That’s a good idea. I’ll be right back.” He dotted a kiss to your forehead and set off in search of a clerk, leaving you behind to double check the shelves.

The hundreds of books lined up in perfect rows put you at ease. This shop was the coziest place in the city, a peaceful paradise free from the noise. And spending a Saturday morning with Bucky, wandering amongst the many titles, felt like home. Your fingertips brushed over a few of the spines, tracing the ornate lettering in search of Bucky’s book.

“Excuse me?” An unfamiliar voice brought you back to reality, halting your hunt.

“Oh, sorry,” you took a few steps out of the stranger’s way and continued your search, only for her to interrupt once again.

“No, I want to talk to you!” her intense energy was out of place in the small, quiet bookshop. The eagerness in her voice rubbed you the wrong way. “Is it true?”

You stared at her, a blank expression on your face. “Is what true?”

“The whole PR relationship thing!” She pulled out her phone and shoved the article in your face, “I read about you two this morning.”

Your hands tightened into fists. Your jaw tensed. And though you wanted to wring this woman’s neck, you kept your cool; Bucky wouldn’t want you to get into a fight on his behalf. With a deep breath, you quelled the rage building inside you. You set down your books and relaxed your shoulders, forcing your breathing to steady.

This stranger had no right to ask invasive questions about your relationship, and no right to ruin your favorite bookstore. “Our relationship is none of your business,” you said, and turned back toward the bookshelves. This stranger didn’t deserve your eye contact, your attention, or your mental space. “Please, leave me alone.”

“Oh, duh! I bet they made you sign an NDA, didn’t they? I get it,” she threw an all too friendly chuckle in your direction. “Can you at least tell me what they’re paying you?”

With that, you brushed past her and attempted an escape. All you wanted was to find Bucky and put this whole interaction behind you. But she followed, phone in hand, recording the whole thing.

“Are you a criminal, too? Are you getting time off your sentence or something?” she called after you.

You let it go.

“How’d they get you to agree to this arrangement?”

You ignored her.

“Aren’t you scared? I could never do what you’re doing,” she said. “No amount of money could ever get me to be near that man- he’s a serial killer. He’s a monster!”

Something inside you snapped. You whipped around, rage burning behind your eyes. She crossed the line. She didn’t know anything about Bucky, only what the papers and tabloids said about him. And she

deserved to pay the price for speaking about him so harshly. But just as you opened your mouth to tear her to shreds, a large hand rested on your shoulder.

“Hey, doll,” Bucky stared down at you, “What’s-”

Your harasser’s eyes widened. “Oh my god,” pure terror rendered her white as a sheet. “It- it’s him…” Clumsy steps carried her backward as her phone slipped from her hand. She scrambled for it, desperate to run in the opposite direction. Breathless, horrified sounds fell from her lips. Her hands shook. You watched with a smile as she snatched her phone from the floor and tripped over herself as she high tailed it for the door.

Bucky eyed the woman as she knocked over displays and ran into other customers. “What was that about?”

You gave a shake of your head, “nothing. She was just hounding me about the article.”

Bucky’s shoulders slumped forward ever so slightly. Hit brow grew furrowed. “Oh, baby…” he sighed, “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry? You didn’t follow me around and ask me invasive questions.” You stretched up on your toes, planting a kiss to his cheek. “It’s not a big deal. I just hope I don’t end up on her Tik Tok.”

Bucky’s mouth fell open, “she was filming you?”

You nodded. Bucky’s face fell.

A rushed “Don’t worry about it, though” pushed its way past your lips. It had an over-the-top cheery tone and a thick affectation of reassurance. You could practically hear Bucky’s heart splintering and shattering with each passing second, and you had to stop it. “I’m sure she’s gonna watch it back later and delete it when she hears her own panicked panting,” you shot him a wink.

And you waited. Waited for the gears in Bucky’s mind to turn. To grind. The devil and angel on his shoulders fought one another, bare knuckled, to convince him of their arguments. The devil told him to spiral, to jump headfirst into a dark sea. He told Bucky this was all his fault, that you’d been harassed, followed, and filmed all because of him. The angel, however, urged him to listen to you. To take a deep breath. To hold your hand. To understand that the article wasn’t his fault- none of this was his fault.

And after a long moment, he slipped his hand into yours. The gesture was a bit reluctant, sure, but you didn’t care. He’d resisted the urge to plummet into guilt and shame. And that’s all that mattered.

You let loose a deep sigh as relief spread through your every cell. “Let’s get outta here, okay? We can head back home and-”

“What about breakfast?”

You eyed Bucky for a moment. “You still wanna go?”

“Yeah, absolutely,” he gave you a small smile. “I know how excited you were about it.”

Of course, all he cared about was you. Your happiness. Your enjoyment. Your love for this diner’s chicken and waffles.

“We can just go another time,” you assured him. “It’s no big deal.”

Bucky sensed the disappointment, no matter how slight in your voice. He couldn’t ruin this day for you. He couldn’t let you down again.

But he thought about the walk to the diner, the hordes of people you’d encounter on the way. And just like that, he felt his manufactured mask of optimism slip.

A sudden rush of what if’s pummeled his psyche. He imagined more harassers filming you, more unhinged strangers following you. He heard them yelling the most despicable things in your direction, hurling insult after insult your way. The voices grew into a loud, almost violent cacophony that rattled inside Bucky’s skull.

He couldn’t let you be exposed to the cruel world like this. He couldn’t take you to breakfast when an angry mob threatened you at every turn. You didn’t deserve to be yelled at, to be disrespected. And what if they turned violent? What if someone followed the two of you home? He couldn’t risk your safety like that.

But he still had to make up for all his time away. All the lonely nights you spent awake, wondering if he was still alive. All the weekends you spent alone, missing him until it hurt. And he’d made a promise- to himself and to you- that he’d rectify the pain his absence caused.

Plus, he had to be over-reacting, right? Assuming the worst out of people he didn’t even know- it wasn’t fair. Sure, a stranger followed you around and gave you a hard time. But she didn’t hurt you. She didn’t even try to get violent. It was all in Bucky’s head- he was sure of it. He made a conscious effort to release his shoulders from their tension-locked position and forced a deep breath into his chest.

“No, doll, really. It’s okay,” he gave your hand a squeeze. “I can tolerate a few dirty looks.”

The second the two of you stepped out of the bookstore and onto the busy sidewalk, you clocked the way hung his head. The way he hid from the eyes of the city. He tried to shrink himself, to protect himself. The confidence, the self-esteem he’d worked so hard to build came crumbling down in an instant. This wasn’t your Bucky, but the Bucky of years before. The Bucky who hated every fiber of his being. The Bucky who took every harsh word spoken about him as gospel. The Bucky who punished his innocent body to make up for his tortured mind.

The reemergence of this Bucky twisted the knife with which the article stabbed you and rubbed salt in the wound.

The walk to the diner brought out your chatty side. Filling the air with lighthearted anecdotes and silly jokes seemed to you like the only way to keep Bucky afloat. If you could distract him from the pain, from the potentially hateful onlookers, maybe this day could be salvaged. But, much to your surprise, not one person harassed the two of you. No one asked questions or followed you around. Not a single errant camera flash dotted the street. Hope rose in Bucky’s chest. Maybe this perfect day could still go as planned. Maybe he could still keep his promise.

When you arrived at the diner without issue, Bucky found himself almost laughing at his own dramatics. He knew he worried too much, that he always considered the worst possible outcomes. He saw the world through a dark and stormy filter, always casting shadows over reality. But to his delight, he’d been wrong this time.

The bell atop the diner door gave a delicate jingle as the two of you made your way inside. The place had an old-timey feel that brought Bucky a sense of comfort, a sense of home. Large families sat packed like sardines in every booth. Tray after tray of French toast and eggs benedict passed by. The smell of bacon and golden-brown pancakes instantly pulled his lips into a smile. It seemed to Bucky that this joint was the real deal. He couldn’t wait to try the chicken and waffles you raved about. Couldn’t wait for a syrup-sweetened kiss.

“For two?” the hostess asked when you made your way to the front of the line. You gave her a nod.

She eyed the section to her left, appraising the area for an opening as a busboy waved in her direction. “Okay, this way,” she grabbed two menus from the host stand and gestured for you to follow.

But just as you attempted to trail her through the sea of tables, a booming voice caught your attention.

“Hey!”

The restaurant quieted. Heads turned in the direction of the outcry.

A large, gray-haired man with a soiled apron stepped into the hostess’s path, blocking her way. A deep crease formed between his furrowed brows. Sweat dotted his bright pink cheeks. This was the face of a man who stood over a hot grill for twenty-five years. He was familiar, but only vaguely so. You could’ve sworn you’d heard that voice before- though with a kinder intonation. And then it hit you.

During your last visit to the diner, he stopped by your table to ask how you liked the food. He was so kind, so even tempered. He thanked you for choosing to spend your Sunday morning at what used to be his father’s restaurant. He was so proud of the old place. So compassionate for its time-worn booths and outdated wallpaper. He told you how he worked in the kitchen for so long that now, even as the new owner and manager, he couldn’t stay away from the griddles.

But the kind-hearted man you met last time was long gone.

“Not in my restaurant!” He ripped the menus from the hostess and dismissed her with a sharp wave of his hand. He glared at Bucky, his eyes brimming with hate. “We don’t serve murderers here!”

The lighthearted chatter died out altogether. Forks stopped clinking against plates. Children halted their laughter. Hundreds of eyes locked on Bucky as his cheeks burst into a red flush.

“Get out before I call the police!” The man took a step toward the two of you, “You’re not welcome here, you psycho.”

“You can’t talk to him like that!” you barked back. “He isn’t-”

“Baby, don’t,” Bucky cupped a hand around your upper arm and tried to gently pull you toward the door. “Let’s just go.”

“No,” you cut your gaze back to the manage, “not until he apologizes.”

Bucky gave your arm another tug, “please.”

The desperation in his voice nearly made you crack. His eyes swept across the room and back again, taking in each and every horrified stare. With each taunt the manager threw his way, the weight of the public eye grew heavier. More suffocating. Their stares pushed Bucky’s shoulders forward and his head down. He was crumbling.

Not one person stood up for Bucky. No one- aside from you- called the manager out. No patron even gave a disapproving shake of their head. It sickened you.

With a small nod, you obliged Bucky’s request, and let him lead you out of the restaurant. The stares followed him the entire way.

Bucky wanted to disintegrate. He wished to, once again, turn to dust and evaporate into the breeze. If he ran, he could put a few miles between himself and this godforsaken diner in minutes. But he found his feet rooted into the ground. He was frozen. Trapped. Running wasn’t an option.

He leaned against the cool glass window of the diner and let himself process. He heard you talking a mile a minute, reassuring him until you ran out of breath. But he couldn’t pick out more than a few words. It wasn’t until a defeated apology fell from your lips that he snapped out of his trance.

“Wait- you’re sorry?”

You nodded. “I’m so sorry, Buck. You didn’t deserve that.”

“Baby, you don’t have anything to be sorry for.” His gaze fell into a strange middle distance, landing on everything and nothing all at once. “I should apologize. That article… it ruined everything. I feel like I-” His eyes met yours, “your life is never gonna be the same after this.”

You gave him a shrug, “who says I want it to be?”

His eyes met yours as an exasperated laugh left his chest, “You’re kidding, right? This is going to affect everything for you: jobs, housing, friendships. When people look you up online, all they’re gonna see is that article. They’re gonna see me.”

“Good. I want them to see you,” you said with a wink. “If I’m gonna date the hottest guy in the universe, I want everyone to know about it.” Bucky didn’t laugh. “Babe, I’m not worried about that kind of stuff right now. I’m worried about you.”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he let his gaze fall to the sidewalk below. “I’ve been through worse.”

The worn-out, beaten down quality of his voice was enough to make you weep. Bucky didn’t deserve more pain. He didn’t deserve to be treated like a monster. But society cast him out and labelled him a vicious predator. They abandoned him, left him in a corner to rot and wither. All alone.

And you weren’t going to let them do it again.

“Fuck that article and fuck all these people who wanna disrespect you.” You tilted his chin upward until his eyes met yours, “we’re gonna go home and order take out. We’re gonna watch some movies. And we’re gonna get through this bullshit together.”

Without another word, you slipped your hand into his and started off in the direction of home. But Bucky didn’t move.

You turned back to him, an expectant look on your face. “You coming?”

“But…” he gave the diner another look, “You didn’t get your chicken and waffles.”

“What?”

“You should go back inside and eat,” Bucky pulled his hand from yours. “I’ll head home and-”

“Buck, I say this with love, but-” you cupped his face, “are you nuts?”

He let out a deep, genuine laugh.

“I’m not gonna eat here ever again,” you spied the manager through the window, “fuck that guy.”

Bucky just wanted you to enjoy the breakfast you’d been dreaming of. He hated that you were willing to deprive yourself. That he’d ruined your special breakfast spot. But your fierce loyalty filled him with warmth. In that moment, he made a mental note. He planned to scour the internet and find the best chicken and waffles in the city to make up for today’s mess.

“I don’t know why I’m surprised,” Bucky said. “You were ready to fist fight that guy.”

You put up your dukes and landed a few faux punches to Bucky’s chest, “hell yeah I was. No one is allowed to treat you like that.” Your hands fell to your sides. A sudden seriousness eclipsed your joking tone. “Ever.”

Bucky pulled you in for a hug, holding you close to his chest. He never thought he’d have someone like you in his life. Someone who loved him. Cared for him. Supported him. But, without fail, you had his back every time. You were his safe harbor, his soft place to land.

Sometimes, he thought that maybe you were with him by accident. Maybe he was never meant to experience your gentle kind of love. Maybe he interrupted you on your path to someone else. Maybe he somehow got tangled in fate’s thread. But he didn’t care.

You took Bucky’s hand once again, prepared to lead him in the direction of home, “Ready?”

Bucky gave you a cheery nod, “let’s-”

“Fuck you, murderer!” a passerby shouted. He disappeared in a flash, bold enough to insult Bucky but cowardly enough not to hang around for the consequences.

Bucky thought the man might’ve said something else as he bolted from the scene, but he didn’t quite catch it. He was too distracted by the vague sounds of discomfort grumbling out of your chest.

“Doll? You alright?”

Slowly, carefully, you turned to him. A look of shock yanked his features upward as he came face to face with the massive coffee stain covering your body. It splashed over the entirety of your chest, streaking down the front of your shirt. Steam still wafted from the drips running down your neck. Rogue droplets dotted your arms.

“Oh my god…” Bucky didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to help you.

The boiling tidal wave seared through your skin, setting each nerve alight. You could’ve sworn it hit bone. The sudden rush of pain forced a trembling into your hands, an unsteadiness into your voice. A stinging rush of tears brimmed against your lash line, but you wouldn’t dare let them fall. Not when you could practically see Bucky choking on his guilt.

“Wow, I wish that asshole was more of a cold brew guy,” you joked. “And he ruined my favorite shirt with his shitty aim.”

Bucky’s chest seemed to fold in on itself. It shuddered and shrank, collapsing against his thundering heart. Each inhale was shallower, greedier than the last. Oxygen leeched from his lungs as the crushing panic set it. An ever-darkening shadow clouded the edges of his vision- but he couldn’t succumb. Not when you needed him.

Before he knew what was happening, he used his body to form a protective shell around you. He ushered you toward the diner door, scanning the area for oncoming threats. No one else was going to get to you- not today, not ever.

A deep sigh of relief left Bucky’s chest as he ushered you inside. Sure, it was only coffee. And you weren’t even the target. But every passing second brought a new, horrifying ‘what if’ to the forefront of Bucky’s mind.

What if you’d been thrown to the ground?

What if you’d been shot?

What if vengeful people wanted to spill your blood as payment for Bucky’s crimes?

He thought he might throw up.

But the second he made it to the hostess stand, his nausea dissipated. The fog clouding his mind cleared. You were his priority- everything else could wait.

“Someone just threw hot coffee on her,” Bucky said to the hostess. His words came out quick, firm. “She needs ice now.”

The hostess’s features sunk with a heavy guilt. “Oh, shit. I-” She glanced across the room at the manager and watched him with narrowed eyes as he schmoozed with the regulars. “I’ll go grab some right now, give me one second.”

The seconds dragged. Anxiety coursed through Bucky, prickling at his every cell. He clenched and unclenched his fists. Bit down on the inside of his cheek. Anything to calm the worry. But he couldn’t help it; you were attacked- because of him. And he needed to remedy it as quickly as possible.

“You doing okay?” He stared down at you, worry creasing his features.

You nodded, “yeah. Doesn’t hurt that bad anymore. I think all of my nerves have gone numb, ya know?” You attempt at humor sunk like lead.

“Baby, I’m so-”

“What the fuck did I say?!” the manager stomped over to Bucky, his wrath on full display. “I’m calling the cops! I already kicked you out once-”

Bucky held up a hand in surrender, “We just need some ice- the hostess went to get it. As soon as she gets back, I’ll go.”

The manager rolled his eyes, “No- you don’t get anything from us. Leave! I’m calling the police!”

It was then that the hostess appeared with a large plastic bag full of ice. She looked at you with kind eyes, apologizing silently for her manager’s behavior. “Here you go. Is this enough? I can get more-”

“It’s plenty, really,” you hastily grabbed for the bag and pressed it to your scorched skin. The cool sensation flooded your senses, doing away with any remaining discomfort. “Thank you.”

“Great, you got your ice,” the manager spat, “now get out.”

Bucky thanked the hostess a hundred times over as guilt settled in his stomach. He knew she’d get in trouble for helping him. He knew the manager would scream at her- most likely in front of everyone. But she’d shown the two of you kindness. She did her best to help you in a moment of need, regardless of what others said. And it renewed Bucky’s faith in strangers- if only for a moment.

“How does that feel? Is it okay?” Bucky eyed the dripping bag of ice, the shivering in your fingers. “I can ask her for-”

“Hey! Do you speak English, or just Russian?” The manager yelled, “GET. THE FUCK. OUT. You understand?”

Part of Bucky wanted to disappear into a cave for a while. Wanted to hide from the ridicule. But he couldn’t check out. He couldn’t evaporate and leave you to fend for yourself. No, he’d made a promise to himself the day he met you; he swore he’d always protect you. And though he couldn’t stop the public from treating you with malice, he could at least get you home safely.

“Woah, hey- where are you going?” Bucky put a hand over yours, halting your attempt to open the diner door.

“Well, I don’t know if you heard the lovely manager of this fine establishment,” you said, “but he wants us to, and I quote, ‘get the fuck out’. So that’s what I’m doing.”

Bucky gave a fervent shake of his head, “No. You wait in here. I’m gonna get us a cab, and-”

“It’s okay, I’ll come with you.” You gave the door a tug, but Bucky kept it from budging.

“Don’t,” a dark seriousness clung to Bucky’s words. “I don’t want anything else happening to you.”

Bucky’s protective nature was always sweet. Always made you feel special. You couldn’t help the tiny grin that pulled at your features. “Babe, it was just coffee-”

“This time,” a grave look ghosted over his face. “It was just coffee this time.”

Bucky let his eyes drift to the busy sidewalk outside. Every stranger, every passing face posed a threat to your safety. Anyone could have a knife. A gun. And while Bucky was certain that the hot coffee had been meant for him- that you were simply collateral damage, an unintended target- he feared how the city might treat you. You’d already been followed, harassed, filmed, attacked. People saw you as fair game, as a token of retribution. An eye for an eye that made the city blind with hate.

“Can you just-” He dragged his gaze back to you, “will you please wait inside?”

Bucky couldn’t remember ever being this scared. Not on the train, not at Hydra. This was different; this was your life at stake. Your vulnerabilities exposed to the world. It was as if a magnifying glass sat posed above you, giving anyone and everyone a detailed look into your life. Bucky knew there wasn’t much time before the rays of the sun burned you alive.

“Okay, yeah,” you released the door handle, “I’ll stay in here.” It was the least you could do.

He was deathly pale, his hand shaking with anxiety. He worried about you so intensely that you sometimes feared he’d get sick. And though no part of you wanted to send Bucky out there alone, you agreed.

His shoulders relaxed ever so slightly; the whisper of a smile crossed his face. “Thank you,” he dropped a kiss to your forehead and headed outside to the world that hated him.

And hate him they did. You watched from the diner window, the scene that played out filling you with anguish. Not a single cab even slowed down for him. Vacant taxis turned off their lights as they approached- only to turn them back on once they’d passed. Bucky’s shoulders grew more slumped with each unsuccessful attempt at hailing a cab. His head drooped; his expression grew pained. This wasn’t fair. After his pardon, he’d worked so hard to earn the public’s trust, to reenter their good graces. He made his amends, went to therapy, even did a few interviews at Sam’s suggestion.

One poorly written article in a shit-rag paper, however, was enough to send him back to square one.

All Bucky wanted was to get you home safely, and he couldn’t. He couldn’t even provide something that basic, that simple. He cursed himself relentlessly as taxi after taxi flew by. He was supposed to protect you, to take care of you. And yet, he was the reason for your pain. Your peril. It made him nauseous.

After countless failed attempts at securing a ride, Bucky turned to face you. He stared at you through the dirty glass, shame and disappointment dragging his features downward. For a long moment, he just stood there. Completely still. Passersby bumped into him every now and again. People muttered under their breath about him being in the way. But he didn’t move. He just looked at you, the person he loved most. You, the person he cared for above all else. You, the person he couldn’t protect. Couldn’t provide for.

Part of him thought it best to just walk away. His absence would make your life easier, less chaotic. Safer. If he left you alone, maybe you’d find someone else. Someone normal. Someone better. Someone who could take you out to breakfast without putting you in harm’s way. Someone whose mere existence didn’t prompt strangers to scream at you in public.

But he couldn’t leave you- ever. He was bound to you from day one.

One last fruitless attempt at catching a cab sent his heart sinking down, down, down to the soles of his feet. And as he approached the diner with his tail between his legs, he felt himself stepping on it with each pace. He was so embarrassed, so ashamed. With a quick wave of his hand, he beckoned you to the door and popped his head inside.

“Baby, could you…” he was almost too downtrodden to speak. “Could you get us a cab? No one will-” he cleared his throat, “No one will stop for me.”

The look on his face hurt worse than your scorched skin.

“Of course, Buck. Yeah. Don’t worry about it.”

It wasn’t lost on Bucky how quickly a cab stopped for you. It took less than a minute, maybe less thirty seconds. He stood on the sidelines, as far away from you as he could possibly get without leaving you defenseless. You looked good out there on your own, free from his burden.

The cab ride home was quiet. Uncomfortable. The driver eyed Bucky in the rearview as though appraising a threat. He gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles lost all color. You swore you heard the gas pedal hit the floorboards more than once. The car sliced through traffic and screeched to a halt outside your building, throwing you forward in your seat. The seatbelt tightened against your scalded skin, pulling a groan from your throat.

“Thanks. Um,” Bucky handed the driver a wad of cash, “keep the change.” He kept his focus trained on you but couldn’t pretend he didn’t notice the way the driver flinched. The way his muscles yanked his body in the opposite direction. The way his hands shook as he took the money. Bucky wished to evaporate.

But he couldn’t, not yet. Not when you needed him. And so, he walked you upstairs and ushered you into the small apartment you shared. He double and triple checked the deadbolt, even pulled on the door to ensure your safety. He couldn’t let anything else happen to you- he’d rather die.

“Alright, well, I’m gonna go take a shower,” you broke the tense silence. “I reek of cinnamon soy latte.” The laugh that punctuated your sentence did nothing to brighten Bucky’s stormy expression.

“Sounds good, doll,” he nodded. “You can just drop your clothes in the hall, I’ll throw them in the laundry for you.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you frowned down at your coffee-stained shirt, appraising the damage done. “I don’t think this thing can be saved.”

Bucky shrugged, “It couldn’t hurt. I’ll give it a try.” He dropped a kiss to the top of your head, “it’s the least I could do.” And with a light tap to your ass, he sent you off to shower. The gesture wasn’t as lighthearted as it was just a few hours earlier, but he was trying. Trying to appear less dejected. Less broken.

But you saw through the façade.

When you emerged, free from the smell of coffee, you found Bucky in the kitchen standing over the kettle. He stared down at it, his hands resting on either side of the stove top, his shoulders nearly reaching his ears. You knew that look- he was lost inside his own head.

“You know, I don’t think you’re supposed to watch that thing…” you said, snapping him out of his train of thought. “Otherwise, it’ll never boil.”

His head snapped up. The darkness clouding his eyes parted. He smiled at your lame joke, letting your lighthearted tone lift his spirits. “I was just gonna make you a tea, I know you haven’t had the easiest day.” He just wanted to right the ship, to steer the two of you out of the dark, choppy waters in which you found yourselves. Maybe, this small, kind gesture could make up for your ruined Saturday. Maybe, it would keep you from leaving.

“How was your shower?”

Just thinking about it made you wince. “It was fine, I guess. I had to use the coldest water possible- any warmth at all made my skin hurt.”

Bucky’s eyes flicked from your face to the kettle and back. Worry creased his brow. “Should I not…” He sighed, “Are hot beverages out of the question?” He couldn’t believe how absentminded he’d been.

“No! Definitely not,” you pressed a kiss to his cheek, “you know I’ll always take a tea. Thanks, babe.”

A small, proud smile spread across Bucky’s face. For once, he didn’t disappoint you. For once, he didn’t ruin the moment. After such a nightmarish day, he finally breathed easy, knowing that he’d done one thing right.

“I was thinking I could run out and grab us something to eat,” Bucky said when he got you settled on the couch with your tea and a fresh ice pack. “I know you’re probably starving. And I could-”

“Baby, no,” you shook your head. “I don’t want you out there- I don’t want you getting harassed or attacked. We’re in hermit mode for a few days until this whole thing blows over. Okay?”

Bucky barely mustered a nod.

“Let’s just order some take out. What sounds good?” You dropped your ice pack to the side, grimacing at the loss of the cool sensation. But comfort could wait. You opened your laptop and sat up, poised to take Bucky’s order. But he didn’t answer.

He remained silent for a long while, eyeing the floor with a blank stare. His nails dug into the palm of his hand; his jaw tensed. Something deep within him fought tooth and nail to claw its way out. It scratched at his insides, screaming for release. Bucky didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to even chance upsetting you. But the words slipped out of his mouth before he had a chance to stop them.

“Do you ever regret this?”

You cocked your head to the side, “Regret what?”

“This-” Bucky gestured to himself, and then you. “Us.”

The words hurt worse than your scorched chest. “No. Why would you even say that?”

Bucky shrugged, “Because you’re covered in second degree burns and it’s my fault.” Never before had he ever sounded this broken, this hopeless. Not even after Steve left.

“Buck, it’s not your fault,” you shut your computer and inched closer to him. “You’re not the one who threw hot coffee on me-”

“But the person who did was aiming for me, and you got caught in the crossfire,” he choked out. “That’s my fault.”

“It’s not-”

He stood suddenly, his anxiety forcing him to move. “Can you deal with this for the rest of your life? All the staring and the harassment? And the hiding at home because everyone hates me? Is that the kind of life you want?” He paced with a fervent drive, fearing that if he didn’t burn through the nervous energy, he’d suffocate under it.

But, even in the face of his frantic movements, you remained seated, remained calm. Talking to Bucky in this state was like coaxing an injured animal into your home. One wrong move, and he’d bolt. Every move, ever word, had to be slow, measured. With an even tone and soft words, you refuted his sentiments. “I want whatever kind of life lets me be with you-”

“You want people throwing coffee on you forever? You want-” He paused, only to place your icepack on your chest once again. “You want to be kicked out of restaurants and denied cabs? Just to be with me?”

One small nod. “Yes.”

Bucky stopped in his tracks. He turned to you, his expression blank. “People used to vandalize my apartment, you know…”

“What?”

He nodded. “After I finally came back to New York and tried to settle in…” The memories of those uncomfortable, disjointed days filled Bucky with dread. He’d never been so lonely, so lost. He pulled away from you, fearing he’d complicated your life. He forced himself into isolation. And to make matters worse, his community turned their back on him. They didn’t welcome him home or celebrate his survival. They made him wish he’d never made it back. “They broke my windows, filled my mailbox with pictures of my victims, used animal blood to write ‘KILLER’ across my front door-” He let out a heavy sigh, one that came from deep within his bones. “That’s why I moved so often. My landlords- no matter how sketchy they were, no matter how much illegal shit they did to their tenants- kept kicking me out. I was too much of a liability, even for those shithole places.”

It left you reeling. Images of Bucky coming home to find his place completely trashed hurt you in a way you didn’t know was possible. You could see him, covered in blood, scrubbing his front door in the middle of the night. Wiping tears from his eyes as he looked through piles of photos of the people he hurt. Taping pieces of cardboard over his broken windows in the hopes of keeping out the severe, violent winters. He didn’t deserve any of it.

With a deep breath, you forced yourself back to the present. “Buck, I don’t care about things like that. They can vandalize our place if they want. They can throw coffee at me.” Slowly, carefully, you rose from the couch. “As long as nothing happens to you, I’m happy.”

A rough scoff launched out of Bucky’s throat, “Come on-”

“No, you come on,” Your words came out too intense, too hard. But you couldn’t maintain your even keel anymore. Not when Bucky was moments from unraveling. “I have been in this with you since the day we met. I knew- almost immediately- that you were the person I wanted to be with. Even when you didn’t know where- or who- you were. Even when you went back into cryo. Even when you turned to dust and disappeared for five years.” Dredging up the past hurt. It sliced you open and tore your heart into pieces. But you didn’t dare fall apart- not yet. “Even when you pushed me away,” your voice wavered, “I have been with you- and I always will be. Because I know who you are. I know you’re a good person.” A few tears dripped down your cheeks, “I don’t want anyone else. I want you.“

“Why?” Bucky shook his head, “I don’t- I can’t understand that.”

“Because you’re just- you’re you, baby,” you couldn’t help but smile at the thought of Bucky’s existence. “You’re kind. And you’re thoughtful. And you’re compassionate. You care about everything. Everyone. I’ve never met anyone with a heart like yours…” You shrugged, “I love you. So much.”

“I know you do. And I love you, but…” His eyes dropped to the floor, “I feel like being with me is a waste of your time. A waste of your love. You know? You should be with someone good. Someone with less baggage, whose hands aren’t stained with the blood of innocent people.” He dragged his gaze up to meet yours, desperation in his eyes. “I want to give you everything- I want to give you the world. But I can’t. I can’t give you what other people can. I can’t give you what you deserve.”

“I don’t want any of that- I don’t want the world,” you shrugged. “I want you.” To you, it was simple. Completely uncomplicated. But Bucky didn’t see it that way.

“Is that- am I enough, though? I mean, the quality of life I’ve given you so far has been…” He thought back on all the terrors and trials you’d face together. All the disasters to which he subjected you. He shuddered. “Everything I put you through is so fucking messed up. And scary. And painful. And-”

He shook his head. Since the day he fell for you, he knew one simple truth. And for years, he did his best to deny it. Hide it. Run from it. But it came spilling forward all at once.

“There’s always gonna be something with me. Some problem, some mess. I’m either gone for weeks, fighting god knows who, completely unable to talk to you until I show up at home covered in blood,” he said. “Or I’m here with you while strangers to accost you on the street because they hate me.” He shook his head, disappointed in himself. Why did he allow you into his dumpster fire of a life? Why would he subject you to the heartache and the misery he knew lurked around every corner?

He fought the tears gathering in his eyes, the emotion that attempted to block his airway. “The waters are never going to be smooth. Not with me. And I don’t want you to have to deal with the fucking tidal wave of bullshit that is my life. You deserve better- you deserve better than me.”

“Buck-”

“I want your life to be safe. Peaceful. Comfortable. Not-” he gestured to the icepack on your chest, “whatever it is now.”

Without a word, you took him by the hand and led him to the couch. And for a long moment, he refused to sit with you. He didn’t want to give in, to lower his defenses and allow himself to get comfortable. But your red-rimmed eyes, glassy with tears, forced him to take a seat.

And when he finally rested beside you, you ditched your icepack and took his face in your hands. “Everything you said that you want for me? I already have it. I have all of that.”

He shook his head, “Doll-”

“You make me feel safer and more comfortable than I ever have. Being with you is like being wrapped in a warm blanket made of bullet proof bubble wrap.”

Bucky couldn’t stop himself from letting out a quiet laugh.

“I’m serious. You can talk about how the life I lead with you isn’t enough and how you’re not enough, but this,” you gestured to yourself and then him, “is everything I’ve ever wanted. Being here with you in our home is… it’s the most peace I’ve ever known. Even when we’re just sitting in silence, it’s- it’s warm. It’s comforting.” You inched closer to him and rested your head on his shoulder, “It’s like we’re the only two people on the planet. And we can just exist in the other’s atmosphere without pressure or fear. We understand each other. And it’s perfect.”

A rush of pink colored Bucky’s cheeks. Sometimes, even after all the years he’d spent with you, he didn’t know how to handle such loving sentiments. But there was no pressure to perfectly articulate his thoughts or express himself without flaws. A simple “I love you” did the trick. He leaned into you, allowing your warmth to soothe his aching soul.

“All that shit that happened today didn’t even bother me much,” you told him. “The lady in the bookstore, and the staring, and the coffee thing- I can deal with that kind of stuff. I can take that every day as long as I get to be with you.”

He pressed a kiss to your hair and caught a vague whiff off coffee but didn’t bring it up.

“The only part that really upset me,” you continued, “was seeing people be so mean to you. And watching you get so down on yourself.” Reliving Bucky’s heartbroken expression at the diner almost made you tear up. “I can handle a rogue Starbucks, but I’ll never accept anyone treating you like that. You're everything to me- you always will be.”

Bucky handed you your icepack, begging you to put it back on your scalded skin where it belonged. “Well, I appreciate your support," he smiled to himself, "and your fierce loyalty.”

A mischievous laugh rumbled out of your chest. “Good. Just remember than when I call you from the county jail after I get arrested for burning that fucking newspaper to the ground.”

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

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nightsmarish · 22 days

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Summary: you find a dog and Sirius isn't so sure about keeping it

Poly!wolfstar x reader (Sirius Black x Remus Lupin x reader) | 1.2k

Tw: mentions of vet, reader think Sirius might be mad they brought a dog home, talk abt shitty weather, Sirius sitting on readers lap, reader oogaling Sirius' thighs

⊹₊ ✰ ⋆⊹₊ ✰ ⋆⊹₊ ✰ ⋆⊹₊ ✰ ⋆⊹₊ ✰ ⋆⊹₊ ✰ Remus sits in the arm chair in the living room, book open but he's mostly zoned out. Sleep has been evading him like Sirius evades dishes. And it's likely that knowing that you're not home yet from your late shift has been making him anxious, normally Sirius would be up with him, waiting for you, but Sirius has been utterly exhausted lately, so he doesn’t blame him for being able to sleep.

The door unlocking breaks whatever trance Remus was in, hearing you try and be quiet while you shut it and toe off your shoes. Remus stands up, placing a bookmark to mark his place as he makes his way to the entryway.

“Hi, dove.” His voice is soft and warm. You face him, face lighting up despite your exhausted features.

“Hey Rem.” You're holding your jacket in your arms, smiling guiltily.

“....what do you have there?”

“Listen- you- Sirius might be upset. So just, keep this between us? For tonight?” You rush out your words, having practiced how you would explain yourself on the way home.

“Show me what you have and then we can talk.” His lips quirk up in amusement as he crosses his arms over his chest.

You hesitate for a moment before moving your coat. Remus walks closer to look into the little nest you made, where he sees a small ball of fluff.

“Merlin…” Remus mumbles as he follows you to the kitchen in your shared townhouse.

“I found him outside of work, I couldn’t just leave him.” slowly the small puppy onto the counter, making sure its still asleep before going to the fridge to find something for the little thing to eat.

You're not wrong for bringing the puppy home, and Remus knows that. It's been freezing out and raining heavily for days, he can’t imagine how pitiful the puppy must have been outside.

“I’ll- I'll take him to the vet tomorrow. Or find one open tonight. I swear, and we can all decide what to do from there.” You pull out some of the fancy lunch meat Sirius had bought for the sandwiches Remus has been taking to lunch this week, taking a slice and ripping it up on a small paper plate.

“Dove… I think we should wake up Pad.” Remus is slightly cautious despite it being his idea, knowing Sirius has always been a bit wary about the idea of getting a dog because he is a dog. Metaphorically and literally.

You're filling up a small bowl with water, “I know, we should. I just- i don’t know. He's had a really long week and he's tired, and I don’t want to make it more exhausting because I brought home a dog.”

“I know, but if he comes down for a class of water and you're hunched over a dog, he's gonna be half asleep and likely freak out a bit.”

“Yeah, okay, I’ll go wake him up. Can you see if he wants to eat or drink anything? Please?” You start making your way out the kitchen when you hear Remus confirm he can.

Walking up the stairs, the door is cracked open to the bedroom, the light moon filtering in through the drapes and onto the bed. The bed where Sirius is dead asleep, hair messy, and shirt ridden up. You sit on the bed, gently brushing the hair out of his face.

“Siri? Baby?” Sirius stirs, groaning and reaching for your body, trying to trap you in bed with him. “Baby- Sirius we have a dog.”

The laziness in his motions immediately stops, opening his eyes with furrowed brows and sits up. “What?”

“I found a dog, he's down stairs. I think I’m gonna find a 24 hour animal hospital to take him to.” You fidget with the hair tie on your wrist, not looking at his reaction.

“Where did you find a sodding dog? In this weather?” Sirius rolls out of bed, standing in front of you, rather distracting in his boxers and concert shirt that you're pretty sure is yours.

“Outside, near my work.” You shamelessly stare at his thighs, littered with a few tattoos that are a stark contrast to his pale skin.

“And you brought it home?”

“Yep, he's downstairs, wanna meet him?”

And Sirius does meet him, the little ball of white and brown fur. Even he had to admit the little thing was adorable (he thinks he's cuter but that wasn’t the conversation at the time). Both the boys accompany you to the 24 hour animal hospital you found.

The puppy is rather healthy, a little under fed, and still shivering like a leaf. But caring for him back to help wouldn’t be too challenging. The next few days, the puppy remains in your home.

ᯓ★

“I wanna keep him.” You break the calm atmosphere of the house, Remus mixing batter for muffins, while Sirius sits on the counter and ‘helps’ while his record player softly plays in the background.

“The dog?” Sirius whips his head back, Remus glancing over as well while he continues to mix.

“No, I wanna keep james. Yes, the sodding dog.” Said dog, is sitting on your stomach while you lay back on the couch, watching oogaling Remus work.

“I mean, I’m not opposed to it.” Remus speaks up before Sirius can make a snide, and likely inappropriate response including James and him being called puppy.

"I don't know..." Sirius glares, albeit softly, at the puppy, "I don't want dog fur on my clothes. And we don't know what breed he even is, he could grow to be huge. Like, part Tibetan Mastiff or something."

You hold the puppy's little face, pointing him to face Sirius, "but look at this little face! Cm'on baby, he's so cute!"

Sirius looks at the puppy, sleepily nuzzling closer to your hands, allowing you to do with him as you wish.

Remus watches Sirius' resolve dissolve quickly, "merlin... fine, we can keep him. But we should get him a DNA test. And neutered. And I still want to lay on you as padfoot, I get veto."

Remus smiles, pouring the batter into the muffin tin, “We should name him then, he deserves to be called more than the dog.”

“Padfoot jr?”

Sirius looks at you like you've shot his mother, if this was a magical alternate universe where she was lovely. “No”

His reaction makes you laugh, disturbing the puppy, so he gets up and hops off the couch to go find somewhere else. Having gained a lot more comfort in this environment than his first day there. “You don’t want him to be your legacy?”

Sirius hops off the counter, walking to where you're laid back, moving on you to straddle your lap. “I am my own legacy, darling.”

Both you smile at each other, your hands moving up to hold onto his hips. Remus puts the tin in the oven and sets the timer, glancing at the record player, playing Cherry Bomb before joining you two. “What about Cherry?”

Both of you glance at him, “Like the song by The Runaways?” Sirius asks, smiling at the idea.

“That’d be cute!” you sit up, only part way so he doesn’t fall off your lap.

“With that logic, we should just name him Queen, if we are going off iconic songs.”

“Yeah, but Queen isn’t a song, it's a band.” You sit up the rest of the way, taking Sirius with you.

“Killer Queen is a song.” Remus points out.

“I like Cherry.” you hum, as Sirius dips down to kiss you.

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fiapartridge · 4 months

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♡ how you get the girl | quinn hughes

quinn hughes x fem!reader

summary: after you walk out on quinn, he realizes he made the biggest mistake of his life, leading him to your doorstep. wet, soppy, and begging for forgiveness.

warning(s): cursing, kissing and grinding and stuff leading to sex but no actual sex described??? idk it just gets heated, angst but there is a happy ending!!!! <33333

author's note 💌: i love writing for quinn. he's my fave. anyways, i got a request to do a part two to the "you're losing me" imagine so! hope u enjoy!

read part one here !!

YOU LEFT HIM. And for a moment, the longest moment of his life, it felt like Quinn’s heart stopped beating. It felt like a wake-up call.

Ever since becoming captain, his focus shifted. His eyes grew tired, waking up before you had the chance to pepper him with kisses in the morning. His arms felt sluggish, coming home later and later, trying to perfect his performance, trying to be a good captain for the team, trying to be the person they needed after a terrible, horrific season. He was trying so hard to be what they needed that he forgot about the most important person in his life, and what she needed.

The second you walked out the door, he knew he fucked up. He knew he should’ve called out for you, or kissed you before you had the chance to break up with him and end it all, or promise to be there, to be what you needed. But that argument—it felt like the end. He hadn't lost you in that moment; you had been slipping away for much longer.

“Hey, where’s Y/N going?” Brock drunkenly draped his arm over Quinn’s shoulder, watching him watch the door like you were going to come back and rush into his arms, saying that it was all a huge mistake; that you didn’t mean what you said; that you didn’t care that Quinn had made no time for you in the months he became captain. But that’s not who you are. When you say something, you mean it.

“I fucked up,” he whispered, like he didn’t want to believe that it was true.

Brock’s brows raised, his words a bit slurred but still comprehensive. He pouted. “What did Captain Huggy do now?”

“She asked me if I wanted to marry her.”

Brock released a breath as if gaining his sobriety. “Oh shit. What’d you say?”

Quinn gulped, not believing the words he was gonna say. Of course he wanted to marry you. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. He would give up anything to be with you, even hockey. And he should’ve said it, he knows he should’ve said it. But would you even believe him if he did? He hasn’t spent a waking minute with you for the past three months. You don’t do that to someone you love. “I said no.”

“What did you want to say?”

Quinn didn’t even hesitate. He didn’t have to think about his answer. “That I would marry her in a heartbeat. That I fucked up and I don’t even know how to fix it.” That when he’s asleep, you’re the only thing he sees in his dreams; that when he’s at practice, and he sees his teammates with their wives and kids, he wonders what it would be like for you to be there, your child on your lap, cheering him on from the stands; that he knows he’s been neglecting you, but he just felt like you would always be there, even if he stopped paying attention.

“So what’re you gonna do?”

Walking back into the party, Quinn scrambled to find his car keys, ignoring the questions of where he’s going and if he’ll return because, for once, he didn’t care about what they thought about him. All he thought about was making it up to you and getting you back.

After fifteen of the longest minutes of his life, he finally made it to your apartment. He knew you would be here instead of his, but it broke his heart nonetheless. You always said that you hated being here. It felt cold and lonely in contrast to Quinn’s, but after these past couple months, neither apartment felt like home.

It was raining outside as he paced outside your apartment complex, trying to come up with the right words, not wanting to say something that’ll upset you further. His suit was wet, his hair shaggy, and his new white socks a squishy mess. You deserved more than him, he thought. You deserved so much better. Someone that would actually be there for you and love you and take care of you. That wasn’t Quinn; it was never going to be Quinn, but the least he could do was try.

Knocking on your door, Quinn shook from the rain, and maybe also from a little bit of fear. As terrible as it sounds, he knew you still loved him, but he was worried that that part of your heart was growing smaller and smaller by the second.

Opening your door, you saw the wet mop on his head and his flustery red cheeks. He was standing in a puddle of rainwater and his hands were trembling. You wanted to hold them, give him a mug of hot chocolate, and warm him up. Swaddle him in a fuzzy blanket, cuddle him, and never let go, but you were also pissed as hell. Why was he standing here? Did he want to rub it in some more? That the only guy you’ve ever truly loved, that you ever actually considered marrying, doesn’t want you? That’s just messed up.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, anger still laced in your tone. But you felt like your heart was stuck in your throat. You wanted to push it down, but the longer you looked at Quinn and his sad stupid eyes, you resisted it a little less.

“I was afraid,” he muttered, a little less than a whisper.

You rolled your eyes. You’ve been together for years, and he was afraid to tell you he loves you? That he sees a future with you? That he could maybe possibly want to marry you?

Not wanting to hear his excuses, you held your hand on the wood, attempting to close the door as he held it open, a plea in his eyes—please hear me out. “I was afraid that I wouldn’t be what you needed. You shouldn’t marry me. You deserve so much more than me, Y/N.”

You scoffed. “And that’s supposed to be your decision? I get to decide who and what I deserve, not you.” Tearing your eyes from him, Quinn felt his heart plummeting even faster. He can’t lose you. “You know, maybe you were right, Quinn. Maybe we don’t have a future together.”

Was he dying? Was Quinn dying? Is this what death felt like? He felt like he was dying. Everything was going wrong. He was wet, you two weren’t back together yet, and somehow you are even more mad at him than before he came.

Just be honest, his mind screamed.

“I thought that I needed to be what everyone else needed,” he said, staring at the puddle of rain he tracked in. “I needed to be a good captain, I needed to be a good player for the fans and for the organization, I needed to be good for my family, but I forgot about you and what you needed.”

“You don’t need to be on for me, Quinn!” you shouted, not caring for your neighbors that could probably hear from down the hall or the people walking past your guys’ melodramatic scene. “If you just told me how you felt, I would’ve been there! I would’ve been there for you!” your eyes were stinging, sparkling with unshed tears. “But you pushed me aside like I was nothing.”

“Y/N-”

“No, no.” You shook your head. “I think you should go-”

“I’ve thought about marrying you since the moment I met you. Since the moment you met my family and you couldn’t care less that Jack had no idea what personal space was, and that Luke was in love with you so he always asked to sit next to you at dinner. And how invasive my parents were and my grandma giving you those crazy ten-minute-long hugs and always asking you when you were going to give her grandchildren. I’ve thought about marrying you since our first date when I got whipped cream on my nose from the funnel cake we shared and you licked it off even though it was our first date, and I thought ‘this girl is crazy and I think I’m in love with her.’ I’ve thought about marrying you every time we went to a wedding together, not even caring about the actual ceremony because I was imaging it was you and I walking down that aisle and you would start crying during your vows but you’d somehow also sneak in some sort of joke about me balding soon that would get everyone laughing and I would somehow fall more and more in love with you than I was before.

Quinn walked closer, you let him. “Believe me, I want to marry you, Y/N. I would do it right now if I could.”

“So why-”

“I saw you pulling away. I knew I was losing you. I knew that hockey and my life and everything going on right now was hard, and I didn’t want you to be stuck with it if we got married. I didn’t want you to feel like you were stuck with me.”

You breathed out shakily, not expecting…any of that. “I don’t care if you go on roadies every other week, bring me with you. I don’t care if you have a bruised eye or a missing tooth, I’ll be there with an ice pack. If you have to practice from 5 in the morning to 5 in the afternoon, wake me up and I’ll be there with snacks! If the Canucks tank this entire season or they win every single game, I’ll still be here. I don’t care about any of it," you shook your head. "I only care about you.

You held his wet cheeks, his eyes closing against your warm palms. “I’m not stuck with you,” you whispered against his lips. Planting a soft kiss, you felt him chasing your lips as you pulled back. “I want to be with you forever. But what do you want?”

For the first time in his life, he didn’t have to think. “I want you, Y/N. I want to marry you, and grow old with you, and do everything with you. I just- I want you.”

Standing on your toes, you pulled Quinn into a kiss, his lips quickly closing the distance. He melted into your body, his hands finding themselves underneath the fabric of your shirt, wrapping his arms around your torso as if you were going to dissipate into a clear mist.

As you backed into the apartment, Quinn kicked the door shut, sealing the world outside. With the living room dimly lit, you found yourselves on the couch, pulled gently onto his lap, his hands exploring the curves of your body. “I love you,” he whispered, wanting to get closer, closer, so much closer.

Meeting his urgency, you grinded against his hard-on, licking his lips. “Yeah?”

He nodded profusely, already imagining you back at his apartment, where you were meant to be, in his bed, in his shirt, moaning his name. “Yeah.”

You smirked, lifting your shirt over your head, your lacy red bra being on full display. Quinn's eyes drank in the sight, his desire palpable in the air. “Show me how much.”

Quinn wasted no time, his hands finding the clasp of your bra, skillfully releasing the constraints. As the fabric fell away, his hands traced the contours of your skin, a silent vow to explore every inch. To kiss each mole and each dimple, and thank whatever godly entity led you to him.

"Wanna marry you," he moaned into your lips.

"You obsessed with me or something?" you smirked, giggling as he lifted you from the couch, carrying you to your bedroom.

"Something like that."

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #i love quinn

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lovingmattysposts · 2 months

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Quiet

P2 P3 P4 P5 P6 P7 P8

pairing: some of you guys should be KISSING MY FEET RN because yall were boycotting me, BUT that pairing it y/n and Matt sturniolo

summary: a girl with a lot of baggage and a boy with even more try to help put each others pieces back together one by one. A story about a girl who’s broken and a boy who doesn’t talk

warnings: mentions of a father drinking, mentions of blood, mentions of death

Welcome to the first part of my new series: Quiet. A long awaited new Matt series that my Matt girls have been itching me to write. This plot lines gonna be good. Trust me, I’ll get you hooked up keep up with me. I love you, and I hope you fall in love with this story.

As always, Autumn.

I tumbled down the stairs as I pulled on my shoe. "Shit!" I fell hitting the bottom step, scraping my knee open. I took in a breath and bit my lip to muffle the cry that was about to fall from my lips from the impact.

"Shit" I whispered as tears welded in my eyes.

If I'm honest. I'm a baby when it comes to pain. Mental pain? I could stuff in inside all day long, but I scrap my knee? I'm in full on tears.

Suck it up. Suck it up.

My eyes closed as my hand came over my bloody knee. For some reason my inner voice always had my mother’s voice attached to it. It was a weird thing inside my head that I wish I could escape—but I couldn’t.

I turned my head. My dad was still asleep on the couch. He hadn't heard me. I let go of a breath when I realized he hadn't heard me.

Stand up, you'll be late.

I took in a breath and stood up uncovering my hand to see the blood had stained my hand. I swallowed and hobbled over to the kitchen before opening drawers that were empty. I pulled one open and finally saw a box of bandaids.

I sighed of relief and grabbed it, before realizing it was empty. I closed my eyes, the tears seeming to resurface.

It's only because it's Monday, Y/n. You'll be okay. It's just because it's the first week of a new-

"Shouldn't you be getting off to school?"

I looked up, lifting my elbows that I was hanging my head in defeat against. I set the box down, staring up at my dad that was fully awake.

"Yes, sorry. I was just getting bandaids. I fell down the stairs" I explained. He just stared down at me, crunching the beer can in his hand. I glanced towards it.

"I was just about to go" I whispered as he walked around me to the fridge. He glanced over at me and then down to my knee.

"Clean that up, you're getting blood on my tile" He said motioning to the blood from my scraped knee now trickling down my leg. I nodded before grabbing a towel quickly and running water over it before placing it on my knee, cleaning up my leg.

"Not--Ugh. Fuck Y/n. Not my good towels!" He snapped the towel out of my hands. I looked up at him as he examined the blood-stained towel.

"Get to school" He snapped. It took me two more seconds before I grabbed my backpack off the kitchen counter and ran out the door, down to the bus stop.

I finally hunched over, attempting to catch my breath before I saw the bus round the corner. I sat up and soon enough it stopped right in front of me. I walked into the bus, the noise of other high school students chattered.

I made my way to the very back of the bus where It was quieter. I sat down, scooting to the end where the window was and leaving my backpack next to me so no one would sit there.

It wasn't the morning for social hour. If i'm honest, I wanted to curl up and never be seen again.

I swallowed the lump in my throat as I looked down at my knee, the throbbing beginning to start as new blood came to the surface.

Maybe I would just get some bandaids from the school nurse.

Maybe today would be a good day.

The bus ride wasn't that long. I spent most of it just staring out the window picturing what my life now was, what I had left behind. It was a fresh start, only it didn't feel like one. It started raining. Pouring.

I sighed as the rain hit the glass and made me hestitate to press my face into it like I wanted to . I didn't want it to somehow break the glass and get to me.

The bus haulted snapping me out of my thoughts as everyone rose from their seat. I grabbed my bag before following the rest of them out of the bus. I ducked my head once the rain poured down on me and sprinted towards the front door of the school.

Once the cool air of the school hallway hit me, I'd never wanted to be anywhere less. Listen, I hated high school just as much as the next person.

I stood in the big hallway as I looked around, hugging my arms to myself.

But it was worse when you were new.

Someone bumped my shoulder, causing my bag to fall of and drag my arm to the ground. I turned seeing a guy just glance back at me, not bothering to apologize.

and when it was in the middle of the school year.

I glanced around again.

and you knew no one.

It was almost embarrassing as a teenager in America to look around and see the same people moping and possessing different high school stereotypes around the US. It was a weird thing that was always consistent.

Almost everyone played the same role, the same cliques, just maybe they looked a bit different from town to town. It was so predictable it hurt.

I closed my eyes and slumped back in my seat. I shouldn't be so judgy. At least that's what my mom always said. I glanced around to a girl applying some lipgloss and every-other second glancing to a boy next to her, as if she was begging him to watch her apply the $8 lipbalm from claires.

Judging Y/n.

My mother's voice rang in my head. "Sorry" I mumbled to myself as if she could hear me. She couldn't.

"You're in my seat"

I looked up seeing a guy staring down at me. I blinked up at him before glancing around the room. All eyes on me. I swallowed looking back up at him.

"I--"

"You lost?" He tilted his head. His hair was dark, his skin tan, his eyes full of fire. I grabbed my bag off the back of my chair. "I didn't know this was your seat. I'm new" I explained as I stood up. He slammed his bag on the desk before I had even gotten all the way out of it.

"Yeah you look it, what's with the weird ass clothes?" He motioned to my body. I looked down at my jean shorts and long sleeve black tshirt. I didn't think anything was weird about my outfits.

I heard muffled giggles from around the room. I glanced around.

"I'm from the south, this is what--"

"I didn't ask" He snapped as he sat down and turned to talk to someone next to him. Without another word I retreated towards the back of the classroom feeling everyone's eyes watching me.

I wanted to die. Curl up and never speak or do anything again. I hated how I'd let him walk all over me. I hated that he made me look so weak in front of all of these people that I didn't know.

I set my stuff down in an empty seat in the middle of the back row and slumped in my seat, pulling out a paper in pen and scribbling on it immediatly, because If I didn't--I knew I was going to cry.

Don't cry. Suck it up. First days are hard for everyone.

My eyes glued to the paper, I heard the teacher walk in. I looked up. A man, middle aged, nice smile.

"Alright hooligans--" He lifted a sheet of paper up to his eyes. "Which one of you is Ms. Hemingway?" He spoke looking up, glancing over the classroom.

Kill me. Strike me dead on the ground.

Everyone turned in their chairs, looking back at me. I sunk farther in the chair as the teachers eyes landed on mine. I forced as small smile as we made eye contact.

"Ah well, welcome to the team! We are so happy to have you. I'm sure everyone will give you a warm welcoming. It says you moved from Florida?" He asked. My eyes widened as he proceeded to have a full blow converstaion with me with 25 other kids in the room.

I nodded slowly.

"It must be a bummer moving from the sunny state to Massachusetts, especially in the middle of winter" He chuckled. I stared at him.

You had no idea.

"Any particular reason?" He smiled. I was over this. I looked up.

"My mother died" I stated blankly. His smile fell quickly. The students around me eye's widened as I spoke. The teacher cleared his throat before proceeding on.

"Yes well, I'm sorry for the loss. We will catch you up with everything...." I tuned his voice out as I looked back down to my page.

"What a freak" I heard whispers around me. It may not be polite to announce your mother's death before even telling someone your first name, but I wasn't deemed as the most traditional person in the world.

I kept to myself. I never had many friends. I didn't play sports. I didn't like outside school activities. There was a very short things that I did enjoy, and the only thing that kept me going was remembering those things. Listing those things.

I lifted my head for a second to forget about the pity I was about to put my mind through. It was the first day, I wasn’t going to resort to listing my favorite things to make me feel like my heart was still beating.

I turned to look at the people around me. Most of them sleeping, listening to music, or completely in their own world.

Except one.

I titled my head to get a better view.

A boy.

Light brown hair, crease between his eyebrows, glasses, blue eyes. Listening to everything the teacher was saying. Writing down almost everything. I just sat there and watched him for a second before he tilted his head and met my eyes.

I felt frozen for a second. This boy just completely caught me staring at him. His eyes widened slightly when he saw the fact that I was acknowledging him and turned away, his cheeks pink.

I turned away.

Fuck, I didn't mean to scare him. I swallowed and looked out the window, feeling the guilt wash over me.

Maybe today wasn't meant to be a good day.

I was wrong, today was meant to be a terrible day.

I moved out of the way of some girls passing by me as I stood in the lunchroom looking around. There was almost no empty tables. I looked to the side before making eye contact with a girl who quickly looked away from me giggling with her friend.

I wrapped my arms around myself, feeling the tears start to come through the back of my eyes.

It was so much easier attempting to make new friends in kindergarten than in high school where everyone was judgemental and cliquey and….fucking mean.

My eyes scanned the room. Please don’t let me be the girl who sat in the bathroom at lunch. My eyes finally spotted an empty table.

"Thank God" I breathed as I placed one foot in front of the other and walked towards the table, but as I got closer I realized it wasn't empty. There was a boy sitting there.

The same one from my class this morning.

Short brown hair. Blue eyes.

I turned to walk away. He had his head shoved in a notebook and didn't look like he wanted to be bothered. I paused as I turned and saw every other table full.

"No" I cried to myself.

I'm not eating in the bathroom.

I turned back to the table with the boy. I walked slowly up to him and once he saw me in his peripheral vision, his head shot up. I froze from the shocked looked on his face when he looked at me.

He shut his notebook fast as I slowly approached the table. I swallowed as his eyes didn't leave mine.

"Hey" I said as nicely as possible. He just stared at me. I swallowed. I looked down at the table.

"Can I sit?" I asked softly motioning to the empty side of the table. His eyes didn't wavor its gaze on me and his mouth didn't move.

I blinked at him.

"Do you care if I sit? I won't bother you." I said shaking my head.

Blank stare.

I swallowed as I looked at the table.

"I don't really have anywhere else to go" I whispered looking down at my shoes.

Still, no response.

I blinked up at him. His face has turned from scared to calm, blank. His eyes shifted down to the cut on my knee from this morning.

I looked down at my knee.

“I fell down the stairs this morning” I explained. He glanced up at me. “I didn’t have any bandaids” I whispered. He took in a breath before flipping open the book again and looking down.

Only then did I realize it wasn’t just a notebook, it was a sketchbook.

I shrugged my backpack off and set it down. "I'll take that as a ‘I don’t mind if you sit here’, quiet boy" I sighed as I swung my feet over the seat and sat down. I reached for my bag before pulling out an apple.

I didn't hesitate to take a bite out of it. I was starving. I looked up meeting his gaze, as he had one hand on the spine of his book. He just stayed looking at me. Like he was studying my features. I chewed slower.

“What are you drawing?” I asked pointing to the book that was out of my view. He just blinked at me. Maybe I should start with something a little less personal.

"I'm Y/n, by the way---Sorry" I stated my mouth half-full from the apple. I realized that it was probably rude that I didn't introduce myself. He just blinked at me.

"Are you deaf?" I asked not in a rude way, I just didn't know if he could hear me. He glared at me and shook his head. My eyes windened. "Oh sorry, I didn't--" I shook my head, my face growing red.

I’m already fucking this up. The first person I talk to. Great.

"And you are?...." I trailed off tilting my head. He blinked and took in a breath, looking back down at the table. He shrugged. I just blinked at him.

"You don't know your name?" I asked. He glared up at me, as if to say: Obviously I know my name.

I sighed and crossed my legs under me.

“What are you drawing?” I asked again. He didn’t respond, just pulled the book closer to him. I sighed and leaned back.

"You're in my world lit class" I stated. He looked up at me. "Is that guy always such a dick?" I chuckled. He raised his eyebrows and nodded.

"Hey look, I got something out of you" I smiled at him. He didn't smile, he just stared. What was with this kid?

"I'm new here. I just moved from Flordia...which I guess you already know since that teacher put me on the spot" I sighed remembering the awful moment.

He glanced down to the apple in my hand and then towards my bag. I held the apple close to me. "Are you judging my choice in fruit?" I smiled. He shook his head, not even cracking a smile.

I sighed and looked down at the apple I took one bite out of.

"It was all that was left in my fridge. It doesn't taste that good. If it was my choice, I'd had a bunch of blueberries and strawberries....oh! I'd even throw in some black--" I glanced up at the brown haired boy who just blankly stared at me. I shut my mouth.

"But that wasn't in my fridge" I finished quietly looking down at my apple. I set down my apple before pulling out a notebook.

"Sorry I know I said I wouldn't be a bother, and i'm....bothering. Just ignore me" I said looking down at my notebook, but I could still see him looking at me from the corner of my eye.

About 20 minutes later, everyone started to file out of the cafeteria and he was quick to get up and disappear before I even had time to grab my bag.

I turned around and looked through some people, but he was gone.

I sighed as I shrugged my bag over my shoulders and followed everyone out. This was going to be the longest first day of my life.

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo x reader

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riediaries · 4 months

Text

you sigh at the scene outside of the classroom. the four of you was left inside the four cornered room when the electricity suddenly went out of use because of the heavy rain accompanied by lightnings.

"when will yaga-sensei get back?" shoko asks and geto answers. "who knows. he might already be on his room, sleeping." he slightly jokes.

"ugh. so boring. i don't have my cigarettes right now." shoko states and you glare at her.

"when will you stop smoking? it's bad for you health and you're even going to be a doctor.." your face forms a sour expression when shoko just laughs it out.

"don't worry. i'm not gonna smoke around you." she reassures which suguru questions her.

"so, you're gonna smoke around me and satoru?"

"huh.. why, yes. of course." the brown-haired girl chuckles. "you're okay with it, anyways." she shrugs like it was nothing for her.

"not okay with it.." satoru groans as he wakes up.

come to think of it. the annoying blue-eyed freak has been really quite ever since yaga-sensei left. no wonder it's been quite and peaceful when he's out of commission.

"but geto and you don't complain and [name] complains." she points at them.

satoru huffs in defeat, not wanting to talk any longer since he's still sleepy. "anyways, where's yaga?"

"call him yaga-sensei and he's out to see what happened to the electricity." you answer and look at him on his drowsy state.

he's quite.. cute. you admit. spiky yet looking soft hair sticking everywhere and his sleepy eyes made him hundred times even cuter.

just this once, you will admit that he's cute. just this once.

"oh.. it's raining." he says like he just noticed it. "i don't have my umbrella with me.." he murmurs.

"i have mine. you wanna share with me, satoru?" suguru teases his best friend.

"no way! it's better to be alone under the rain than with you in an umbrella." he scrunches his nose to express his clearly disgusted face.

"oh, c'mon! it's not like shoko and [name] have any heart to share their umbrellas with you." geto laughs and looks at the two girls.

"excuse me, geto. i have a heart but gojo doesn't have a room enough to fit on my heart and on my umbrella." you scoffs.

"as if i want to share an umbrella with you, pipsqueak." satoru rolls his eye with you and you did the same.

"like i also want to–"

"okay, okay. let's calm down." suguru rushes to save everyone's day. you and gojo are always fighting, making it everyone else's problem. such a handful duo.

"let's just go home, yeah? i bet the two girls have been wanting to sleep and relax on their dorm rooms." suguru turns to you and smiles. his gentle gestures and thoughts forms a genuine smile on your face.

"yeah. i wanna smoke so bad." shoko adds. geto and you laughs at her. "okay, okay."

"oh wow.. you smile at him but roll your eyes at me?" gojo's amused at the scene with you and geto.

"you don't deserve it." you roll your eyes to him again.

geto chuckles as he turns his body to the white-haired boy that's slumping on his chair, making a smug face.

"hah?" he stands up to make himself do an eye-to-eye contact with the dark-haired male.

"why? i'm simply smiling, satoru." he smiles to tease him more. he knows the subtle gazes of his best friend is sending you. and he knows what kind of gaze was that.

he likes her but still don't know what's that emotion is. but your relationship is like a cat and a dog. a bit kind of rocky because of the boy's often insults. and you're easy to tease, according to gojo.

"your cocky smile makes me think more." gojo raises an eyebrow at his best friend.

his best friend did nor explain nothing but chuckle. "i don't know. you tell me, satoru."

"you want to take this outside, suguru?"

"under the rain? aren't you romantic–"

"i'm gonna beat the shit out of–"

"okay. pass." shoko tells the two males and makes her way by walking in between of them coincidentally.

you muffle a chuckle under your breath because shoko looks so small when she passed between them.

you grab your bag, following shoko outside.

"sorry [name]. i have to go. yaga-sensei texted me to examine a corpse." shoko apologizes as she shows you the text. she opens her umbrella, still muttering some curses under her breathe.

"okay. bye." you wave your hand at her.

you stare ahead. it is still raining so hard. you wonder if your umbrella can take it or even survive this rain.

"why are you still here?" suguru asks as he stands on your side. satoru follows him but he decided to stand on your other side.

two tall males standing on each of your side. great. i look like a little chick in between two wolves.

"the rain's still..." you look at the rain. geto looks out, too. "ah, yeah. where's shoko? she left you here?"

"yaga-sensei asked for her and i wouldn't dare to follow her on the morgue." you tell him.

"i'm so lucky i have my infinity to protect me from this little rain." satoru scoffs and proudly presenting that his so-called infinity is so helpful at times like this which is true. must be nice.

"no need to be boastful, satoru." suguru snickers at him and then turns to look at you. "you have your umbrella with you, right?"

you nod. "yes.."

"you need any of my curse spirits?" suguru offers. you shake your head as an answer before he heads out.

unbeknown to you, he gave satoru a knowingly look to him and to you. giving satoru an immense blush.

"the mud's a bit dangerous here. so look out!" he waves his hand and you did the same gesture.

you turn to the flustered male beside you. "aren't you going? you have your infinity to protect you in the rain, after all." you state.

he clears his throat, collecting himself for a second. "what? am i not allowed to stay in here for a few minutes?" he scoffs. "besides, i sometimes get headaches when i use it.." he whispers to himself.

"you don't have any umbrella, do you?"

"why would i need it when i am satoru gojo, the holder of infinity and limitless." he boasts himself again.

you open you bag and hands him your umbrella. the blue umbrella you have right now.

he accepts it with uncertainty and he directs his attention to the blue umbrella you handed.

"what's this?" he looks at you.

"an.. umbrella?"

"i'm not stupid." he hisses. "what's this for? for me?" he scoffs. "as i said, i have my–"

you cuts him off. "yeah. your infinity. but you said it makes your head hurt, right? it's better to use it than your technique."

you feel a bit of sympathy to him. great powers always come with great pain.

he's still staring at you.

you? worried for him. worried. she's worried about me! he happily thoughts of how you're worried about him.

his heart is beating so fast that his ears are getting warm but he composes himself to answer you, in order to for you to not notice.

"but blue? you must like me that much." he grins at you, hiding the suppressed smile he's making.

"keep on dreaming, gojo."

"what about you? how are you going to go to your dorm room?"

"i'll just wait for the rain to stop.." which is not going to be as of the moment by just looking at it.

"you make me feel bad." he opens the umbrella and pulls you to his warm body.

"gojo–"

"shut up or else i'll dump you in the mud." he threatens and much to your annoyance, you hit his arm and luckily, your first landed on his dark blue uniform.

he turns off his infinity so that he can at least let the frabic of his uniform touch yours. he silently craves for your touch.

"so ungentlemanly." you comment, brushing away the thought that you can touch him.

"you wound me, sweetheart. i'm just being me."

you roll your eyes for the nth time today because of him. "so annoying."

"pipsqueak."

"freak!"

he just laughs at you and adjusted the umbrella to cover you more than him as you walk together. he can't have you getting sick, after all.

#rie.writes #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo fluff

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swearphil · 6 months

Text

I'd give you my sunshine, give you my best, but the rain is always gonna come if you're standing with me

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springseasonie · 1 year

Text

Blackout | KDY (M)

Established relationship, Fiance Doyoung x fem reader

Summary: The powerful storm outside knocks your power out even though Doyoung assured you it would be fine. Luckily, he bought candles the day before just in case this happened. But even with the candles to light the dark house, you were still a bit anxious about the storm, so Doyoung decided to distract you for a bit

Warnings: sexual content, unprotected sex, breeding kink, softer dynamic, fluff (I think idk), proofread but may still be errors

Word count: 3,2k

Song recs: get you by Daniel Caesar

A/N: wrote this listening to the cutest kpop gg music you could imagine. Literally listening to achoo by lovelyz rn (stream) please lmk if I missed any warnings. Feedback is loved and appreciated

"Are you sure everything will be fine out there? It's looking pretty serious." You stood by the window of your living room staring outside at the storm.

"Well I don't know for sure, but what I do know is that you shouldn't stand near the window like that." Doyoung grabbed your arm pulling you away from the window. "It's night time so hopefully nothing too crazy happens. Are all the flashlights up here?"

"Yeah." You turned to Doyoung who put his hands on his hips with a concentrated expression. He was always so cute like that. "Babe, we're gonna be okay. There's no need to-"

The room went completely silent as your vision was impaired with the sudden blackout. All that you could see was the trees moving in the strong wind and power lines flying in different directions. You pulled your phone out of your pocket, turning on the flashlight to see in front of you.

"Babe? You still there," you said loudly, looking around.

"Yeah I'm just getting the flashlights and candles," he called from the kitchen.

"I didn't even know we had candles," you laugh.

"I bought them yesterday just in case." You pointed your phone in the direction of the kitchen, seeing him walk back with his hands and arms full. He placed all the stuff on the coffee table with a big sigh. "Wanna help me light them?"

"Of course." You sat on the floor next to him between the couch and the table. Doyoung handed you a lighter and the two of you started lighting the candles "you're always so prepared."

"In life, you always think 3 steps ahead." He placed the candle in the candle holder, carefully putting it on the table. Doyoung reached to pick up another one, but was distracted by how pretty you looked in the lowlight. Your features were soft, and the way you picked up everything was delicate.

You turned to ask him something, but was quickly humored when you caught him staring at you. Doyoung looked away from you super flustered by it. His cheeks turned a bright shade of pink, making him cover his face. You snickered as he whined in his hands from the embarrassment. Even after dating him for so long, he was still embarrassed like a middle schooler.

"Don't be embarrassed," you teased, poking him softly. "you're so cute, you know that?"

Doyoung groaned, earning a soft laugh from you. "stop, it's embarrassing."

"It's not." You continued lighting candles listening to the rain pick up outside. You set it down before turning to Doyoung who was still hiding his face. You ruffled your hands in his hair knowing that would be the only thing to make him come back to you.

"Don't mess up my hair, I spent so much time on it today," he whined, moving your hand gently.

"It still looks good. Looks like the aftermath of a long week," you said, winking at him. Doyoung, who was already flustered enough, gave you nervous laughter. "You know..these candles are kind of romantic."

"You think so," he asked, a small smile on his face. He stood up m, taking 2 candles with him setting up the room.

"Mhm," you answer. You finished lighting the rest of the candles and stood up to help Doyoung put them around the first floor. "Maybe we should be romantic while we have the chance," you laugh.

"Do you think we're still gonna have to work tomorrow?"

"Hopefully not. Hopefully a tree falls in the middle of the street. Okay…I'm all done." You turn to Doyoung who was finishing up the candles right along with you. The room looked nice and lit up like this. It reminded you of a room in a dark academia movie with all the books and papers lying around. Doyoung looked good in the low light too. The slight silhouette of his body in front of the candles was so pretty. He was so pretty, and it was starting to do things to you.

You and Doyoung sat on the couch together snuggled into one another under the throw blanket. You nuzzled your head between his neck, inhaling his cologne that you loved so much. You felt Doyoung tense up a bit, squeezing you closer into him as the storm picked up. He knew you didn't like storms very much, and you were starting to get a lot more anxious as time went on.

"You okay," he said quietly.

You nodded, planting a small kiss on his jawline. "It's getting really bad out there."

"I know," he said, kissing your forehead. "Don't worry about the storm, okay? I'm here."

"I know I shouldn't worry…but what if the tree in the backyard falls or the one across the street? What if-"

Doyoung turned your head to face him and kissed you deeply. He cupped your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb. You pulled away from him, looking up at him with adoration. He was always so sweet, never wanting you to worry about a thing.

"Don't worry about what's going on outside," he said quietly.

"Well, now I can't worry about anything because of you." You smiled, glancing at his dimly lit lips. "I think we should take advantage of this romantic setting. What do you think?"

"I think you're right." Doyoung smiled before kissing you again, capturing your lips in a heated exchange. You kiss him back, moaning softly into his mouth. Your hand finds its way to his chest, holding his shirt softly.

"I bet you were thinking about this all day," he mumbled against your lips.

His voice was so deep and raspy and you could hear the smirk in his statement. It gave you butterflies, and they immediately went right to your core. You wanted to just kiss him for the time being, just in case something bad happened outside or inside. But the way he was kissing you, the way his fingers softly glided on your arm - you needed him.

"Do you think you can distract me some more," you mumbled. You pulled away from his lips, kissing his face softly. You could feel his beard growing back and still smell the expensive skin care he loved.

"It's almost like you read my mind."

You and Doyoung move yourselves on the couch, him under you and you on top of him. Doyoung could never get over the way you looked at him. It made him feel warm and fuzzy. Not once have you even made him feel unwanted or unloved, and he hoped that it would stay that way forever.

"You're staring again," you giggle softly.

"I know." Doyoung took one of your hands and clasped them with his, squeezing it tight. "You're so beautiful."

"Don't get sentimental on me," you whine softly, but the smile on your lips was wide. You always got shy when he started complimenting you out of the blue. Doyoung was big on words of affirmation. He always had to tell you that he loves you, or anything that showed his love for you in general. You loved it because no one ever made you feel as special as he did.

"I'm not being sentimental, I'm just telling you." Doyoung kissed the back of your hand, making you even more flustered than before. "But I'll stop talking because I know you just want my dick in you."

"You didn't have to put it that way," you laugh. You leaned down, kissing him softly. Doyoung placed his other hand on your thigh, squeezing the flesh softly. Doyoung let go of your hand and placed both of them on your hips. Unconsciously, you started to grind on top of him, lips never leaving his. His hands followed your movements, pushing his hips up to get more friction.

The sound of the rain breathing the windows created the perfect white noise for you to put your focus on him. You pulled away from him, leaning lower to kiss his neck.

"God, I love you so much," he sighed.

"I know you do." You came up and pulled your shirt above your head, throwing it on the floor in front of the couch. You reached to your back, unclipping your bra. Doyoung's gaze never left your body, watching as the fabric fell from your skin exposing your chest. Every time felt like the first time. It didn't matter how many times you undressed yourself in front of him, he would still get excited and nervous all at the same time.

"I'll never get tired of this," he mumbled, eyes going straight to your chest.

"I hope you don't because I'll never get tired of you," you said softly. You lift Doyoung's shirt tugging it up. He lifts his arms helping you get the fabric off of him. You toss the shirt next to yours and shuffle off his lap to remove your pants. Doyoung started doing the same. His hands clumsily undid his belt, fingers unable to properly hold the leather because of how sweaty his fingertips were. You watched him, laughing softly as you moved his hands gently, undoing his belt for him.

"Why do you still get nervous every time," you laughed.

"Because it's you."

Your hands are on his zipper when you stop and look at him. You leaned in, kissing him quickly with a small smile on your face. "We might as well get married now since you wanna be all cute and romantic," you tease.

"But if we do that, you won't get your big princess wedding." The both of you laugh as you pull off his jeans and boxers. You run your hands down his chest, making his breath hitch in his throat slightly. The way your nails raked softly over his skin - he wanted to put a baby in you right at this moment.

You had almost completely forgotten about the storm at that point, just focusing on Doyoung in the candle light. But like always, your small fears had to betray you in some way. You glanced out the window, immediately becoming worried again seeing the trees sway in the wind and - wait, is it hailing now? The loud sound of the balls of nice hitting your window and car in the driveway confirmed your thoughts, making you knit your brows.

"I think it's hailing now, Do."

"I know, but don't worry about it, okay." Doyoung put his hand on your waist, pulling you closer to him. "Don't worry about anything. Just lay back and let me take care of you." Doyoung gently laid you on the couch, lifting your legs. You and him had discussed having children before, conversation always ending in "I don't know" or "maybe," but right now he was feeling like the answer should be "definitely."

You laid there watching him as he lined himself with your core, eyes lost in the wetness between your legs. Doyoung pushed himself into you, a sigh of relief and pleasure falling from both of your lips. Doyoung moved his hands from your thighs to your ankles, holding them tight in his hands. Your brows knit once he starts thrusting, moving in and out of you slowly.

"You remember that conversation we had about kids," he asked, breathing heavily because of the pleasure.

"Mhm," you nod, lip between your teeth.

"I..I changed my mind, I want one… now." Doyoung's other hand found its way to your core, fingers gently toying with your clit as he thrusted. He felt you shiver under his touch, soft moans filling the space of the quiet room. "Wanna put a baby in you so bad.."

You nodded, only half listening to what he was saying. And in all honesty, you wanted it too. You needed it. "Please Doyoung, put a baby in me," you moaned softly.

Doyoung kept thrusting in you slowly, breathy groans leaving his lips. His eyes followed your hands as you brought one to your chest, pinching your nipple, and the other to Doyoung's hand that was in your clit. You followed his movements, pressing his fingers on your clit harder. "Fuck," you whispered. "Faster baby."

Doyoung let go of your ankles, allowing you to readjust yourself on the couch. He leaned down, kissing you passionately as he thrusted. His movements were sharp and deep, the sound of skin slapping playing over your ears instead of the worsening storm outside. You cupped his face, moaning on his lips.

"Fuck..right there," you whined softly.

If he could, he would get your face at the very moment tattooed on his brain. You were so pretty, you were always pretty no matter what. But something about your face when you were under him, letting yourself be vulnerable despite your usual introverted nature was so fascinating to him. You always crumbled at every touch, every word, every sound. And to make matters better, you looked angelic in the candle light.

Your arms were now around his neck, forehead resting on his as the both of you moaned. Doyoung's arm snakes around your waist, pulling you closer to him. He needed to be chest to chest with you, feeling every breath you took. Doyoung slipped into the crook of your neck, planting messy kisses on your sweaty skin. You whimpered in his ears, hands in his hair.

"You sound so pretty baby," he mumbled on your skin. "I love it so much."

"D-Doyoung.." The way his name rolled off your tongue almost sent him to the moon. You clenched around him slightly, earning a small raspy whine from him. Doyoung took your left hand and pinned it on the arm of the couch above you. He clasped his hand with yours, squeezing it tightly as if he would lose you if he let it go.

He kissed you once again, tongue dancing with yours. He was so desperate for you and you could feel it. You always felt it, and it always turned you on even more. You never knew Doyoung to be a person who loved physical touch, but after you started dating him, he was like a completely different person, especially in bed. He borderline worshipped, and while it was overwhelming in the beginning, you grew to love and crave more of his attention.

Just as he pulled away, the sudden sound of thunder roared through the sky. The sound was so strong, you felt your house shake at the sound’s vibrations. The sudden noise made you jump, making Doyoung pause his movements for a moment. "You okay," he asked worriedly, scanning your face.

You nodded, giving him a small smile. "I'm okay, it just surprised me a little." You have him a quick kiss moving your arm from around his neck to cup his face. "Keep going."

Doyoung started thrusting again, a low grunt in his throat feeling you squeeze around him again. You were still cupping his face, finger tips lightly brushing his skin with every movement. Doyoung squeezed your hand again, wincing slightly at your nails digging into his skin. Doyoung started fucking into you harder, pulling louder sounds out of you.

"That..that feels good," you said between pants.

"How good baby? Tell me." Doyoung leaned into you neck, teeth nipping softly at your skin. His arm was still wrapped around your back, rubbing circles in your waist.

"Really good," you whimpered. "I'm so close Do."

His brows were knit when he lifted his head from your neck. Doyoung canned your face, a small smile tugging in his lips. He could always tell when you were close. You always tend to cling to his shoulder or grab whatever you were holding tighter, and this time it was both of those things. Your hands gripped his hand and shoulder hard, nails imprinting on his flesh. "Look at me when you cum."

You nodded, trying your best to listen and be good for him. You felt yourself become small under Doyoung's intense gaze, gulping when you felt your body begin to tense up. "Baby, I..I'm gonna.."

And just like that, you came hard squeezing around him hard. Your moans filled the room, body trembling under his when he pulled you closer.

"That's it Y/N. I know that felt good," he cooed. "Where do you want me to cum?"

"Inside me," you panted. "I wasn't kidding earlier."

"You sure? I don't mind doing it but-"

"I'm sure Doyoung." You kissed him, smiling against his lips when he kissed you back harder. Doyoung started thrusting into you again, a shudder falling last your lips. You were already sensitive from cumming first, every movement started feeling like an electrical current flowing throughout body.

"Fucking hell," you moaned loudly, throwing your head back at the feeling.

"Just a little more baby. Can you take it for me?"

"Anything for you." You were slightly slurring on your words, too overtaken with pleasure. Doyoung kept rocking his body at a steady pace, but his movements were getting rougher and rougher. He dropped his head in the crook of your neck, soft moans and whimpers leaving his lips closer and closer to his orgasm.

"Cum in me Doyoung. Make me yours."

That's all he needed. Doyoung came inside of you hard for the first time. The both of you moaned together, the warm liquid spreading inside you. Doyoung clung to your body, still holding your body close to his like you would run away from him. His breathing was heavy along with yours, breaths tickling your neck. Doyoung let go of your hand but stayed on your palm simply resting it.

"I can't believe we actually did that," he said giving you a soft tired chuckle.

"Well I can." You kissed the top of his head, nuzzling your nose in his hair.

"Are you..sure you're okay with me cumming inside you? That seemed like such a heat of the moment thing," he questioned.

"It was, but I don't regret it."

Doyoung lifted his body off of yours, staring down at your tired face. You had a happy, content look on your face, like you waited for this to happen. Just when he was about to say something thunder roared again. He looked over to the window, seeing that the hail stopped and all that was left was horrible rain. This time you didn't jump because you were so distracted by the mere thought of a mini Doyoung running around your house.

"The hail stopped.."

"I love you."

A soft laugh escapes your lips speaking at the same time as him. You licked your lips, smiling at his flustered expression. "Why are you getting embarrassed?"

"You said that out of nowhere," he said, blush spreading across his cheeks.

"Your naked and inside of me. And when you pull out, your-"

"Okay, okay. I get it. I shouldn't be embarrassed about it," he chuckled. Doyoung kissed you softly, smiling in your lips. "I love you too."

"Good. Now what are we naming our children?"

Doyoung gave you an amused look, trying to lift himself off your body only for you to pull him back down. "Y/N, we'll talk about that when I get off you."

"But I want you close," you pout.

"Okay, fine. If we have a girl, I like the name Sarah," he said, giving into your question.

"And a boy?"

"I just want girls."

"Do, that's not how it works-"

"I said what I said."

#nct #nct u #nct 127 #nct fanfic #nct smut #nct x reader #nct oneshot #nct scenarios #nct doyoung #doyoung #doyoung scenarios #doyoung smut #doyoung fanfic #doyoung imagines #doyoung x reader

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chanelles-world · 6 months

Text

STORMY NIGHT (chris smut) ! i need him

this has a slow start… but trust i promise it gets better !

…

"fuck... you know what i'm gonna do? i'm gonna fuck this pussy so fucking hard, and ill make sure you won't be able to walk the next morning.." chris growls in my ear. my heart racing fast at the thought of that.

EARLIER THAT NIGHT:

it was a stormy saturday night and i was laying down in my bedroom on my phone while the tv was on playing in the background. my lights were off and the only glow was from my tv and the little lamp that was on my night stand near my bed.

i could hear the wind whistling and thunder clapping as rain fell from the sky. i always loved the sound of storms so it was nice and calming.

i was scrolling through instagram when i heard a quiet knock from the outside of my window. i quickly jump and look over at the door to my balcony. there was a shadow of what looked like a person. "what the hell" i whisper not wanting to get out from my spot on the bed.

knock knock. you hear that same knock again, my eyes were fixated on the door that i didn't realize texts were coming thru to my phone. "ding!" there went another text. i got so scared i almost thru my phone but realized it was texts from chris. "what the fuck does he want at this ungodly hour??" i think to myself.

i open the texts quickly and see he was texting me to open up the door. i raised my eyebrow confused. "what do you mean open up the door" i text back. "i'm standing outside, open up your balcony door, dumbass" i roll my eyes as i read the text that flooded my screen.

i get up quickly and quietly from my bed and walk to my balcony door sliding it open which led to reveal chris. there chris was outside my room soaking wet from standing in the storm.

"what the fuck chris?!" i yell whisper while motioning to his soaking body. he shrugs as he lets himself in. "you're gonna get yourself sick... what were you thinking coming over here in this weather and at this time??" i say concerned but also confused because what did he want that couldn't wait until the morning.

"i don't know i was bored and knew you were awake so i decided to head over here.. matt and nick were already asleep."

i sigh closing the glass door before walking to the bathroom to get chris a towel. i walk over to where he was still standing and hand it to him. "well what do you think i'm gonna want to do at this time?" i asked raising my eyebrow. chris shrugs his shoulders clearly not thinking before he made his way over to my house. "chris do you even know what time it is?"

he nods his head "yeah like 10pm.." he says unsure as i look at him with an amused face. "wrong, it's literally 12am" i say shaking my head before walking back to my bed.

"well i'm here now so what do we want to do?" he asks as he starts drying himself off, starting with his hair.

i took in the sight that was in front of me. there chris was with a white fit shirt and his gray sweatpants. his clothes hung to his body perfectly as they had gotten wet from the rain. you could see his biceps and chest thru his shirt as it went see thru.

my eyes move south down his body and see his man hood poking thru from his sweat pants. god damn. he was big. wait what i thought trying to shake the thought out of my head. i know

i'm not supposed to be thinking these thoughts but i couldn't help it. my mind begins thinking of all the dirty things that i could imagine. my eyes travel back up north and before i could look back up at chris before he saw me staring, i was too late.

"you like what you see?" he asks as a smirk plays on his lips. i could feel my heart racing and cheeks burning as i quickly look away. i couldn't manage to look at his face. i felt so embarrassed.

"no need to be embarrassed.." chris says quitely as he takes a step towards me. i could feel my heart racing. oh shit. i could see chris slowly making his way towards me. i was sitting on the bed so there wasn't really anywhere to go.

before chris could get any closer, i quickly get up and fast walk to the opposite side of the room near the bathroom. i don't know what made

me think to do that, but i did it anyways.

chris doesn't turn around instead he slowly grabs the hem of his shirt and lifts it up and over his head. my brain fogs up as i take in his back muscles. he was so fine. i start to internally freak out because i barely thought of him like that. why now the change? chris turns around in my direction, my breathing hitched as i thought he was walking over to me but instead he makes his way to the bathroom, where he hung up his shirt.

"why are you standing there?" he asks amused

you blink at him a few times. "erm.. i i don't know.." you say speechless. "well cmon let's watch something." chris says excitedly before grabbing the remote to change the channel.

it's like the whole mood completely changed in just a few seconds.

i nod my head and walk quietly over to my bed sitting down on my mattress.

"um before i sit down, are you okay with me taking off my sweats? they're all wet and i don't want your bed getting wet either..." chris asks hesitantly. i gulp, taking his question by surprise.

i think about it for a few seconds. "um yeah sure.." i say nodding my head. i turn my head towards the tv looking straight forward.

out of the corner of my eye i could see chris watching my every move.

i swear i heard a sigh as he slid out of his sweat pants really quickly. i try my hardest not to look over at him as he standing there in only his ethika's. i chew on my lips as i wait for him to sit down on my bed.

chris places his sweats beside my bed and sits before laying down on my bed. he places his arms behind his head which was laying against the head rest.

"okay what do you want to watch?" chris asks calmly before grabbing the remote and scrolling through the channels like nothing had just happened. i know it wasn't like a huge deal but still.

"it doesn't matter.." i say quietly.

chris nods his head in acknowledgement and clicks on a random show. we both have been sitting there for quite some time fixated on the show before i start shivering. mind you it was still storming outside and so it was pretty cold.

"c'mere" chris says motioning me to come lay next to him as he notices me shivering. i hesitate before moving towards him on the bed. i situate myself against his chest as he wraps his arms around me pulling me closer. i tense up just thinking about being this close to him when i remember he isn't wearing anything but his ethika's.

"why are you so tense?" he whispers into my ear. i shiver at just hearing his voice. why does he sound so hot? "loosen up i'm not gonna bite" he says again. i loosen up just a little bit. a few seconds later chris pokes my side which makes me squirm. "stop it" i say quietly as i let out a giggle. chris does it again, but this time i let out a laugh which ended up with me in a laughing fit.

i squirm every where trying to set free but in the mix of it all he had grabbed my hands with putting them above my head. which made it hard for me to break free. i was laughing so hard i couldn't breathe to the point where i started kicking my feet. i didn't mean to but the next thing i knew i had kneed chris in his no zone area. "FUCK" chris moaned out in pain as he let go of my hands to grab his dick while sitting up. "oh my gosh i'm so sorry." i say quickly sitting up also. "mm" chris audibly groans out.

i cover my mouth with my hand feeling really bad. "shit i'm so sorry, that was a complete accident." i apologize again.

"it's not your fault technically, it was mine" chris says finally able to talk. "but damn girl you are strong." he says looking over at me. i blush and look at something else that wasn't his face.

"why do you keep looking away?" chris asks confused as he felt better. "i don't know." i say still not looking at his face.

"really?" chris questions not convinced. i nod my head because i couldn't find the words to speak.

"look at me." chris demands. i don't look at him.

"look at me" chris says again before reaching over and gently moving my face to look at him. we both make eye contact and stare at each other for what felt like an eternity. his eyes were so blue, they were so pretty. he was staring all over my face, first my eyes, nose, and lips then back to my face. i wanted to break the eye contact so bad but his hand was still holding my face in place.

"let me ask again, why do you keep turning away?" chris asks after a few minutes. it's like chris read my mind "and don't say you don't know." he says narrowing his eyes at me. "honest, i- i don't know.." i say whispering looking down at his chest.

"i know damn well you know.." chris says whispering as he moved closer to me. he moves his head back to look at my face, then glances at my lips then back at me once again. the way my stomach did summersaults. i know now that i wanted it just as bad as he did but i don't know what was stopping me.

"i'm gonna kiss you okay?" chris says in a audible whisper as his lips were inches away from mine as he moved his hand to my chin. my brain fogged up and i couldn't think anymore. i slightly nod my head and before i could think about what i said yes to, i felt his lips on mine. i wasn't gonna lie, this kiss felt so good and his lips were so soft. don't even get me started.

chris was about to pull away but before he could i don't know what got over me but i quickly deepen the kiss. my hands make their way to either side of his face as my body moves closer to him not breaking the kiss. i was basically on his lap before one hand moved to his hair.

when it was time to get some air both of us pulled apart breathing heavily. i stare at him and his eyes were filled with lust and love. i could say the same with mine. i don't hesitate to kiss him again. my lips found his as i started playing with his hair. i could feel his tongue caresses my lips asking for an entrance. i oblige and our tongues start battling for dominance. i couldn't take it any longer, a deep moan escaped from my mouth as we continued to make out.

when it was time to catch our breath for the second time, chris motions me to stand up. he stands up after me. he turns me around with my back facing the bed and gently pushes me back making me land on the bed. chris crawls on the bed and hovers on top of me. he pushes my hair out of my face and behind my ear before latching his lip onto my neck. chris started kissing all over neck until he found my sweet spot.

"oh gosh.." i moan quietly. chris gently bites at my neck leaving a hickey in that spot. it didn't matter at that moment if i was left with a thousand hickeys, this felt too good. chris moves back to my lips and gently places kiss before staring at me.

his eyes were glazing over mine. i could tell that he wanted more, and if you couldn't tell by his face you could tell by his member that was poking my leg. it felt so hard making my insides tingle. i couldn't deny the fact that i wanted more. no scratch that. i needed more.

we stare at each other for a moment longer. "what.." i say in a low whisper. "you're just so beautiful.." chris says in a raspy tone. oh shit that was hot as fuck. my insides were burning even more.

"oh shut up.." i say with a blush forming on my cheeks . "no joke.. you're so fucking beautiful it's not even funny." chris says with a serious tone.

"well um thanks.." i say breaking the eye contact. chris grabs my chin moving my head, making me look at him.

"gosh you're killing me. like you have no idea what you do to me." he stares deep into my eyes. i swallow hard. his intense stare was making me crazy.

"that's not true.. i can name a few things.." i whisper boldly. "oh really?" chris whispers. i nod my head. "tell me then.." chris says in my ear. without thinking my hand makes its way down south and palms his dick. "oh fuck!" chris says as his hips flinch to my touch. i smirk knowing that i was able to make him this hard while still clothed and make him feel this good with just one touch.

chris ducks his head in between my neck as i continue palming his crotch. without any warning i quickly place my hand inside his ethika's and grab ahold of his dick. it was so warm against my palm.

"urgh" chris groans in pleasure. with my other hand i slide down his boxers, revealing his cock in my hand. i look down as my eyes bulge as i realized how big he was. damn. i start stroking his dick slowly as i could feel his hot breath against my neck. "oh fuck!" chris moans loudly.

i take that as a sign and apply pressure. "oh god yeah.." chris groans to my movements. i start feeling kisses being planted against my neck again as i continue pleasuring him.

"oh shit, f-faster" chris pleads. i obey his command and stroke his dick faster. "oh yeah, oh fuck!" i stroke his member as fast as possible. chris drops his head in my neck, breathing fast. i could tell he was about to release.

"oh shit, im about to cuum! oh fuck" he groans as his hips buckles towards my cooch. i still have a hand on his dick as he releases spitting cum around my hand and stomach as my tank had slid up during this ideal.

chris's head was still dropped on my shoulder as i remove my hand from his dick.

"oh god, that was too good.." chris moans in bliss as he goes to stand up. he first finishes removing his boxers from his feet before walking over to the bathroom to return with a cloth. I watch every step he takes. before he could hand it to me, i took him by surprise and slowly start licking up the cum that was on my hand while staring straight at him.

chris opened his mouth to speak but was in shock. i continue to lick up the semen until it was all gone. "holy shit, that was fucking hot" chris says finding his words.

i smirk at him. "you know what else would be hot?" I ask purring. at this time i stood up and stand right in front of him with my hands on his chest while biting my lip.

"w-what?" chris asks whispering. my hands slowly massage around his chest and make their way to his neck, leaving them there.

"hm your fingers... all up... in my pussy, maybe finger fucking me raw with your tongue on my clit until i squirt and you hearing me scream your name...." i whisper quietly in his ear.

"what the hell has happened to the shy girl i once knew.." chris asks shocked. "she's still there, she just wants what she wants and. that. is. you..." i whisper before placing my lips against his.

before he could react and kiss me back, i quickly break the kiss and let go of him. "watch and don't touch till I tell you to.. understood?" I say with lust. my hands slowly travel to the hem of my tank top as i slowly start pulling it off. once it was off I throw it across my room. I unclasp my bra soon after exposing my tits. my nipples harden at the cool air.

"oh god... you're so beautiful" chris breaths . I smirk and continue stripping off my clothes, next with my spandex's. my fingers lace around my spandex slowly pulling them down with my thong while making eye contact with him. I let my underwear drop, making my pussy exposed. I step out of them and kick it out of the way. all the time I was staring at his deep blue eyes, making me almost fold, but I needed to stay strong.

I move closer to him with my naked body against his. I place my lips against his kissing him hungrily. chris snakes his arms around my body cupping my ass, pulling me closer. I let out a soft moan as he then grabs my waist throwing me on the bed aggressively.

he quickly gets on top of me and fondles my tits in one hand as his other hand slowly makes it's way down south towards my soaking pussy. chris starts kissing my neck finding, my sweet spot once more.

I squirm as I fiend for his touch. his fingers moves like magic as he pinches my clit— rubbing it in the process m. I let out a deep moan as he bites down on my neck and glides his pointer finger through my wet folds.

"oh my gosh.." I say whimpering. I needed more. "you like that baby? chris purrs. I moan in response. "yes, oh shit.." i say needing his fingers in me.

"tell me what you want.." chris whispers in my ear. i groan in frustration. "you already know.."

i feel chris's smirk as my eyes clench shut from the need of his fingers penetrating my pussy.

"fuck chris, please.." i whimper. he continues teasing my folds. my hips buckle upwards feeling his finger slid into my heat. i moan but before i could get far he removes his finger.

"fuck you" i say annoyed. i move my hand through his hair holding onto it tight.

chris chuckles before finally obliging to my needs. his long finger slides through my pussy making me shiver. it felt so good.

"mmm oh yeah.." i moan in pleasure. chris moves his finger in and out while playing with my clit. "that feels so good oh.. faster" i breath out.

chris adds another finger and moves faster as he stares at me. i stare back at him with pleasure filling my eyes. my pussy tingling and clenching together as i could imagine my high. i was so close.

"oh shit! fuck! faster oh" i groan. chris scrapes his fingers on the inside of my pussy walls making my eyes roll to the back of my head. i feel my body start to shudder at the reaction that i was gonna cum any second.

"chris, im so close" i moan but before i could ride my high, chris pulls his fingers out. i shoot open my eyes which were filled with annoyance but also lust.

"what the fuck chris! i was so close" i groan out my frustrations. "i don't want you cumming just yet... i'm not finished with you yet." he whispers before guiding his dick down to my entrance— letting his dick rub my folds.

in the process of getting finger fucked, chris's dick got hard again just thinking about the fact that he was about to fuck her raw.

"mm" i say in response to feeling his hard cock rubbing up and down my pussy. my pussy was so fucking wet his dick could slip in at any moment.

"oh god you're so wet.. huh?" chris moans loudly before slowly settling his dick in the depression of my pussy. i nod in agreement and as i urge for him to continue.

chris slowly pushes into my vagina, i gave an intake of breath as his cock parted my pussy gently. he slid inside of me, inch by inch.

god that feels so good but also big at the same time. chris pushes in a little bit more — a moan escaping his mouth. a few more inches in and i felt a slight resistance. i winced when chris tried to push further. he was so big.

chris noticed this and dropped a hand down to play with my clit. i moaned. chris captured my lips, mid moan chris took that as an opportunity to give a hard thrust into my pussy. his cock drowned in my pussy. past the resistance i groaned a little at the feel of it all. chris quickly pulled back.

"shit, are you okay?" he asks concerned. i nod my head in confirmation for him to continue. chris lands me a kiss and moves one hand to fondle my tits making me moan. i began to move underneath him, creating friction onto his dick — which made him move inside me.

chris began moving his hips, finding a good pace which started matching my movements. slowly he increased the speed of his thrusts. my breathing got choppier by the moment.

"oh shit y/n, you are so fucking tight..." chris moans as he pushes in and out of me. my pussy hugging at his dick as it felt really good.

"fuck, this feels so good!" i moan in pleasure, encouraging chris to go even faster.

at this point chris was pounding into my pussy. our bodies were mended together as i could feel my pussy walls tighten. this was literally the best feeling in the world.

chris places kisses all over my face as he continues pounding this pussy of mine. his hips thrusting at mine.

"chris oh fuck, harder!" i cry out. but instead of going harder chris pulls out quickly to lift my legs backwards towards my head. he puts his hand on either side of my thighs and motions me to hold them there as he wraps his hand around his dick — making sure to rub my pussy folds before pushing back in but this time a lot harder and faster.

chris replaces my hands with his that were on either side of my legs as he pounds his dick into me. "oh fuck! you feel so good baby" chris groans. his eyes travel and find mine making contact as he fucks me.

i start moaning uncontrollably as my pussy once again clenched around his cock. i was so close.

"fuck! shit! chris! oh god!" i sputter out different words. in my entire time of living i've never felt this good. my eyes shut close as my body shudders underneath of him.

"no! keep your eye's open.. i want you to continue watching me pound into your pussy.." chris breaths as he pounds even harder.. i open my eyes and do as he says. chris moves his hand down to my clit to pinch and rub back and forth.

"mm oh fuck yeah! baby your pussy feels so good" chris grunts leaning his head back clenching his eyes shut.

i whimper at the closeness of my release.

"shittt i'm so close.." chris moans. "me too, oh fuck.." i say moaning.

with that, any semblance that chris had left was gone. he quickly slowed down but before i could catch a breath, he rolled us to the side with his dick still in me. my back was against his chest and one leg was lifted, as he pulled his cock out but only for a second before he placed it near my entrance once again.

before i could say a word, chris started pounding into me. i gasped feeling the pressure implode against the inside of my walls.

"oh my god, yeah" i whisper in pleasure. chris let out a guttural moan as he pulled my hair, fucking me even harder and faster. i couldn't stop moaning as his cock slammed into me again and again. he grabbed my hand, motioning for me to hold my leg up as that hand went to my neck. placing me in a chokehold. oh fuck.

the feeling of chris's nine inches pounding into my pussy cavern, while pulling my hair and grabbing my neck was something i never thought i'd experience. but gosh did it feel amazing.

my moans did not stop whatsoever. his balls were slapping my ass, as chris continued pounding into me. i felt like i was going to explode. my eyes rolled to the back of my head as the feeling was getting too strong. chris bit my neck, squeezing his eyes shut. the pressure was building up.

"oh fuck, i'm gonna cum!" chris moans loudly. my body begins shaking as i couldn't contain my high. i was gonna cum at any second. "oh fuck!, cum inside me!.." i screamed in pleasure as i clench my pussy hard around his dick. "fill me up chris!.."

chris pounded into me one more time, so hard that i saw stars. "FUCK!" chris screamed pulling my hair and squeezing my tit at the same time.

"OH SHIT!" i moan so hard as i felt cum thrust into my pussy thrust after thrust creating a sensation that erupted my body into a deep state. i cummed so hard onto his dick.

i could feel the streams of semen inside my body. it felt so good that it almost hurt. chris didn't stop his movements. he thrusted into me hard, cum shooting in my pussy with each thrust. chris's moans turn into desperate pleasures.

our high's slowly came to an end, as our breathing began evening out. chris's hand wraps slowly around my stomach pulling me into his back. his dick inside my vagina.

"holy... fuck.." chris whispers. a small smile plays out on my lips. i nod knowingly at what he was trying to say.

"are.. are you.. okay.." chris asks nervously.. i sigh. "i'm definitely more than okay.." i whisper.

chris kisses my cheek before slowly wrapping both his arms around my waist rolling me softly onto my back as he was on top of me.

chris pulls himself off of my body still from on top of me and lifts my chin to look at him. he bends his head down to give me a kiss. he lingers there for a few seconds before lifting his head again. this time he slowly glides his softening dick out of my pussy. i moan quietly as that felt good.

as he removes his dick from my pussy.. there pouring out of my vagina was cum. lots of cum.

chris looks down to see a puddle of it. "oh damn.." he blushes. "what?" i say moving my hand down to touch the area that was now wet for a different reason.. i felt the puddle of what my guess was cum. "damn chris!" i say surprised. "is it always this much?" i ask curiously as i look at the cum that i scooped up.

chris shakes his head.. "not really.." he says blushing even more before getting off the bed to grab the cloth he brought over earlier.

i lick some of the cum off my fingers as my curiosity takes over. out of the corner of my eye i notice chris staring at me. i lick the remaining cum off my hand and swallow it.

"fuck this shit, don't do that!" chris moans shaking his head. i smirk knowing exactly why.

chris gets back on the bed and using the washcloth to quickly clean both of us up before throwing it across the room and wrapping his arms around me pulling him to his chest with the blanket over us.

chris plants a kiss on my forehead before we both fall into a deep sleep.

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo edit

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