#if this didn’t happen so much that it made me angry about like

[demonic0angel]

Celestial Bodies AU (5/?)

(Part one, part two, part three, part four. Also on AO3)

Robin sighed as he sat in the passenger seat beside Batman. Another night of patrol had ended semi-peacefully with thankfully no injuries, but Batman still didn't look happy. He was still in the process of accepting Robin as his partner again, and it tired him out trying to mediate and smooth sharp edges. Everything was just exhausting.

The both of them began turning into the cave, where Nightwing was already standing next to the computers when both Batman and Robin entered. He seemed to have just finished his own patrol, but was still in his uniform.

Robin paused when he saw him.

He looked angry.

That was what usually happened between Nightwing and Batman. The two of them fought like dogs and cats over Robin’s presence and training. When one suggested one thing, the other would argue like their lives depended on it.

(In a way, it did. Robin’s life depended on it.

… or at least, Robin’s life had depended on it.)

Sometimes, he understood why Nightwing was so angry.

If he was disobedient, he could get injured. He didn’t know how many times Nightwing had pushed that idea into his head.

(And although Tim wished he was, he was not Jason. That Robin would never come back, no matter how much Batman tried to pretend he did.)

Both Batman and Robin exited the car and Robin went straight towards Nightwing.

“Hey,” Nightwing called out, his grimace switching out to a small smile, just like a performer would, “how was patrol?”

“It’s been an easy night tonight,” Robin said, peeling off his mask to give Nightwing a smile. “How was yours?”

Nightwing gave a singular nod and then a shrug.

So probably nothing worth noting either.

Batman was silent, taking off his gloves and cape on the other side of the cave.

Robin studied Nightwing’s face.

He was a pretty boy through and through, with long hair in a mullet style and a light smile on his face that made him shine like the sun. To Robin, Nightwing was his goal and his idol. He wanted more than anything to show him that his decision to allow and help him become Robin was not a mistake.

He looked right back at Robin, his eyes considering.

“Nightwing,” Robin began carefully, “did you want to tell me something?”

There was a beat of silence.

Nightwing paused. Then he nodded slowly, “Actually, yes. I wanted to ask you if you wanted to meet the cluster.”

Robin's eyes widened.

The Phantom Cluster was an important part of the Justice League’s history and the survival of the planet. Every time something apocalyptic was about to occur, the King of the cluster would warn the Justice League. On occasion, they would also communicate with their hosts through dreams and visions, and prevent even more disasters.

The hosts of the Phantom clusters were only Robins. No matter how much any other hero tried to appeal to them, the stars only favored the wards under Batman.

Though they also seemed to like the younger heroes a lot, having no problem helping them. Tim had heard that Dick’s star had given his personal approval for Starfire and had actually watched out for the Teen Titans before.

The cluster had always loved the Robins.

(Nightwing had called his bonded star, "mine," and his star had responded back in kind. Jason's nickname for his own star was supposedly "Princess." She had called him "dearest" and from what Nightwing would say, their bond was very strong.

It made something inside of Tim ache.)

Essentially, this was possibly an invitation for Tim to get his own star, if it was true that the cluster bonded to all Robins.

Batman, however, whipped his head around and snarled. “Absolutely not! You are forbidden from seeing the cluster!”

Nightwing’s attitude immediately changed as well. He rolled his eyes and snapped, “Who are you to decide that? You don’t have a damn leg to stand on!”

Robin eyed him. He suddenly felt his heart twinge at the thought that it was his fault that he made them start arguing again. The two of them continued arguing and it wasn’t until Alfred came down into the cave that he spoke up.

“Okay, okay. It was just a suggestion. All of the previous Robins met the cluster, so what's the big deal?" He said, trying to defuse the situation.

“Yes,” Batman spat, “all of the previous Robins met the cluster, and one of them died.”

Robin winced.

“Don’t you dare blame them for Jason,” Nightwing snarled. “If I can’t blame you, you can’t blame them either. They lost a sibling too!”

Robin did not speak again as he thought about the situation.

He wanted to meet them. All of the files on the Batcomputer about the Phantom Cluster had him locked out. All he knew was that it was a cluster made of sentient stars and planets and two of them had chosen an individual Robin to keep as a “host”. When Jason had died, his star had died with him. Everything else were anecdotes from Dick, who clearly loved them and his star very much.

But in order to be Robin, he also needed to meet them. The cluster made deals with all of the previous Robins. Now that there was a new one, would things be easier if he also became a host with a star?

(And maybe, just maybe, Bruce will accept him if he had a star of his own too.)

Robin started to speak again, "I—"

“No. That cluster has been nothing but trouble. Robin, I forbid you to go!” Bruce roared.

Robin gulped and shivered. The pure rage in Batman’s tone suddenly made him worried for what he was going to do. Nightwing wrapped a protective arm around him and pulled him back.

“The Cluster has never hurt a Robin before.”

“He. Will. Not. Be going,” Batman growled.

Alfred coughed into a fist and everyone shut up and looked at him. Robin tried not to move but he couldn’t help but try to press closer to Nightwing.

"Master Bruce," Alfred said sternly, "may I speak with you?"

Bruce wilted and then trudged after the true patriarch of the Wayne family.

It was almost funny, but Robin was still tense as Nightwing glared at the retreating back of their mentor and guardian. Alfred turned slightly to wink at him, and he relaxed with a faint smile.

Robin stared at Nightwing.

"... Nightwing?" He asked carefully.

Nightwing softened further as he looked at him. "Yes, Tim?"

"... it's okay if I don't go, right?"

Nightwing's eyebrows immediately went up to his hairline. It was like he couldn't believe that he would not want to go see the cluster.

Robin grimaced. He corrected himself hurriedly, "I mean— I want to go, but—"

"Tim, it's okay. If you don't want to go, it's fine. But to be honest, I'd rather have you go at least once. The cluster... they've always been allies of us Robins. I'd like you to meet my star, at least."

Us Robins. That thought made Robin pause.

Nightwing always tried to be accommodating and gentle with him. The thought of disappointing him gave him determination.

Robin shook his head and said in a firm tone, "No, I want to go."

Nightwing grinned. "Let's go now, then."

Robin glanced back at where Alfred and Batman had left.

"Don't worry about him. I'll take care of it, okay? I'll say that I forced you or something. B is just a paranoid asshole."

Robin's lips twitched but he nodded quickly and followed Nightwing. The two of them entered the teleportation tube that was installed in the cave and then away they went.

When they landed in the space station, Nightwing immediately locked the doors so nobody would enter.

Robin eyed him. Nightwing gave an innocent smile back and said, "It's just in case he decides to come after us."

Robin didn't say a word as Nightwing lead them through the metal halls before they finally ended up in the main room, where windows covered all of the walls, revealing a beautiful starry world outside of the space shuttle.

Robin gasped as he stared out the window at the close stars and planets. They were so close that Robin could almost see the surface of each star move and shift. Thankfully, the tinted windows allowed them to look directly at them.

"Hello, my star," Nightwing breathed and the stars remained silent. Nightwing didn't seem angry, just sad as he pressed his forehead and left hand to the glass, sighing.

Beyond the glass, the stars inched around an empty space, where the Jason's star used to stay.

Robin bit his lip again.

Jason's death had not only hurt Batman and Gotham, but also the heavens.

He might not have known it, but he was so very loved.

Nightwing exhaled again and then stood up straight. He looked at Robin with a thin smile and beckoned him forward.

"Come on. They don't bite."

Robin came forward, eyes darting towards the stars with silent awe and reverence. The stars and planets glittered and shone with a brilliance that matched the Sun, and Robin couldn't help but stare at the sentient celestial objects that floated in the sky.

"They're beautiful, right?" Nightwing said, and it startled him out of his thoughts.

"Yeah. They are," he agreed, because if he said otherwise, it would've been a lie.

It was awe-inspiring (and a little bit terrifying) to see somethings so big and large that were benevolent enough to help them.

It made Robin feel smaller than ever.

Nightwing hummed.

The communicator crackled then, taking away the sound of ocean waves and faint TV static.

Nightwing whipped his head around and Robin followed, staring between the communicator and the window, where the stars lied in silence.

"Hello," a thousand voices called and a shiver ran down Robin's spine.

Like the chorus of angels, a symphony of voices, a choir of sirens, the voices were soft and gentle.

They sounded sad. Tired. Wane.

Robin felt like it was odd that he understood what they were feeling, but he said nothing as he looked at Nightwing's face, which was tinged with the same exhaustion in the stars' tones.

"Hello. This is..." Nightwing gestured to him, "Robin. I'd like to introduce you to him."

The sound of ocean waves again. Robin felt his stomach swoop and drop.

Had they rejected him?

He knew he wasn't Jason, but he had to do it. In order for Batman to be the best hero that he could be for Gotham's sake, he needed a Robin.

Nightwing placed a hand on his shoulder and Robin tried to breathe past the panic.

The voices came back and said, ".... we know."

A different voice differentiated itself from the rest. It was distinctly masculine and adult-sounding, unlike the androgynous and childish voices of the others.

"My Nightwing," the voice called softly and Nightwing beamed.

"My star," he returned the call with a nod and a smile.

Nightwing's star continued, "Our little sister wants to make a deal with Robin. If he wants."

Robin startled. "Who?"

Hope filled inside of him. He wasn’t rejected after all!

Nightwing chuckled. "The little sister of the cluster is the protostar. That one, right there."

He pointed outside, towards a small, bow-tie shaped cloud of dust and gas, all of it converging into one center. She spun and consumed nebula swiftly, but did not move otherwise.

"That's the little sister?" Robin tilted his head.

She was oddly... vulnerable. With the way the other stars and planets circled the point of their cluster, and the way they directed the nebula towards her, they were clearly very protective of her.

"Yep," Nightwing said, but he was quickly interrupted.

There was a crackle from the communicator and then an angry hum like that of a buzzing hornet. Robin flinched and looked at Nightwing, who suddenly burst out laughing.

"My star! Please, Robin isn't going to take her away!"

Another angry hum, though less loud and more indignant.

Robin blinked and then relaxed. His lips twitched and he asked, "Is your star jealous that I'm looking at her?"

"He's the most jealous star I know," Nightwing said, in a loud and teasing tone that was clearly meant to be heard by the stars. "Such a sis-con."

Robin snorted, suddenly feeling a little better. He looked at Nightwing, who now looked more relaxed and encouraging. "You can talk to them," he said. "I promise, they're nice."

Robin nodded firmly and stepped up the communicator. "Uhm. Hello," he said, then winced from the awkwardness.

Silence again, and then, a soft, "Hello, Robin."

The word “Robin” was said with so much unspoken affection that it made him flustered. He stuttered then, but as Nightwing looked at him encouragingly, he continued.

Robin took a deep breath and said slowly, "I'd like to make a deal with the protostar, if that's okay. I can't promise that I'll be a good host, but I promise that I'll be the best host I can be. I'll take care of her and Batman too."

Silence.

Robin glanced back at Nightwing, who was grinning widely and giving an enthusiastic double thumbs-up.

Robin turned back as the communicator crackled once more and then the stars said, "Okay."

One voice in particular, softer than the others and lighter, spoke up then. "Let's make a deal, Robin."

She sounded tired, like she was struggling to stay awake and Robin felt his tone softening as he spoke to her, "Okay. I'll make a deal with you. We'll protect each other, okay?"

The protostar said softly, "I'll protect you."

Robin knew that she purposefully did not mention how he would protect her. He knew it, and he felt like he should've said something to make it fair, but the reassurance that she would be there for him suddenly made him breathless. He felt like he was robbed of all oxygen as he stared at the sky and suddenly understood why Nightwing was so fiercely and deeply protective of the cluster, even against Bruce.

They were kind. So very kind despite being cursed children who had become stars.

"Okay," he said slowly, already feeling a deep affection for his star blooming in his chest, "okay."

He instinctively put his hand on the glass and a bright light, flashing and fast, shot out of the nebula cloud she was consuming and flew towards him. It struck the glass and hot warmth entered Robin's body and then into his side.

He paused, taking a deep breath to calm his heart from racing before he opened his tunic, already knowing where the fated mark was.

On his left side, around the area of his ribs, was a four pointed star, white and pastel yellows and blues slowly tattooing itself into his side.

He beamed. "Dick! Look!" He had accidentally called him by his civilian identity, but Nightwing didn't seem to care as he bound forward and then picked him up and twirled him around.

"You did it! You've got your own star!"

Robin beamed.

He was accepted as a Robin and got his very own star from the Phantom cluster!

He wished he could've heard them singing, like Nightwing used to talk about, or maybe made a deal with his star in happier circumstances, but this was nice too.

Nightwing was still cheering and celebrating, but Robin couldn't help but look out past the stars. His protostar spun in place a little, looking a little more cheerful and he smiled.

"Thank you, Robin," she whispered and Robin grinned.

"No, thank you.... partner." That seemed like a good nickname for her.

A beat of silence from her and then she said, in a slightly more upbeat tone, "You too, partner!"

"Pfftt— you're like a couple of cowboys," Nightwing muffled his laugh.

Robin rolled his eyes and shoved him lightly. "Shut up, Dick. You're the one with the creepy, "my star" thing."

Nightwing gasped and put a hand to his chest dramatically.

"Y'know what? You're grounded! I won't take this slander anymore!"

Robin laughed and as the tension bled out from previous days of mourning and grief, he almost wanted to believe that things would be okay again.

He looked out the sky, as Nightwing put him in a headlock, and watched the stars begin to move slowly, as if suddenly gaining the energy to do so.

He watched that empty hole in space be avoided and he thought of Jason again.

No matter what would happen, he would make him and the stars proud.

————

Bruce seemed resigned when he came back bonded. He didn't say anything and just went to his room. Usually, Tim would've been worried, but he wasn't too concerned since he was so excited about having a star for himself.

Dick gave him the codes to unlock the files on the Phantom Cluster and Tim dove right in without hesitation.

He researched everything he could about the cluster, from what they told the Justice League, from Dick's own secret files that he sent over into his computer, from astronomy websites, and he even hacked into NASA's database on stars and astronomical bodies.

Tim finally found another purpose besides being Robin.

He was his star's host.

Being a host for a star belonging to the Phantom Cluster meant many things. For one, their condition reflected on their stars.

If Robin was whole and healthy, so would his star. If he was sick or tired, it would show on his star too.

For another, being a host meant being protected and watched over by the stars.

Nightwing had mentioned before that sometimes, the stars gave them powers. Robin had a hypothesis that with each host being bonded to a star, the powers that they were able to gain grew stronger or increased, since he discovered new abilities that were not recorded since he was bonded to his own star.

A lot of it were minuscule, barely able to make a difference unless it was a split second thing, when Robin miraculously needed just a little push to solve a mystery, fight crime, evade a dangerous situation, or defeat a bad guy.

Nightwing had mentioned before that he had never had a bad landing after being bonded, and that he had a small immunity to heat and fire. He had also said that sometimes, bullets would mysteriously be unable to hit him, but this was a hit-or-miss thing (quite literally) and didn't always happen, so Robin still had to be able to dodge well.

In the reports, the previous Robin mentioned how he would occasionally get brief, sporadic dreams of the future. Every once in a while, he would sleepwalk, and as if possessed, wake up with a new plan, an unknown secret, or an important clue in the morning. After the previous Robin had gotten his star, Nightwing had supposedly gained the same ability on the occasion, and even Robin discovered that ability, which proved his hypothesis.

Robin himself, had odd bouts of good luck, often causing him to end fights or solve cases even faster than Batman could. At other times, the good luck manifested in things like finding an unusual number of heads-facing pennies that were printed in 1943, or finding lost items whenever he lost them. When Robin fell asleep, nightmares were scarce and he would sometimes feel a weight against his side, as if he was resting next to someone with their head on his shoulder.

(When he woke up, he would feel refreshed, but with a slightly melancholy and loneliness. He wondered if it was from his star.)

Robin wanted to be depended on. He wanted to be important and loved and cared for, and his star was everything he wanted.

For her, he wanted to improve.

He trained under several masters, he made enemies and friends, he joined other hero teams, and he even created his own team, the Young Justice. Bruce’s team grew too, with Cass and Stephanie and others joining them in order to help Gotham City.

Every day, he grew older and his star grew alongside him, an eternal beacon.

She spun and whirled like a hurricane, absorbing and eating nebula and growing stronger, almost converging into a sphere as if she was about to begin her transformation into a star.

And then everything changed when Jason's star came back.

————

Both he and Dick had been in the space shuttle when she had reappeared.

The black mass that used to be the quasar still remained, still and quiet, but the other stars seemed to have gain energy from her silent presence. They spun around her happily, as she loomed over them with her inky presence, bending light around her like a lightless black hole.

With her arrival, it meant that Jason had come back.

And with Jason’s return, so did the Batman’s interest in the stars.

“How do they know?” He growled, as they poured over information and audio logs of the interviews of the stars. “How do they know what happens? Did they know that Jason would die and come back?”

Nightwing glared at him, but said tersely, “I don’t know. From what we know, their ability to read the future comes from Clockwork. He visits them and tells them information.”

Robin lifted his eyes up from the paper, which had a picture of his star on it.

“We’ve never seen Clockwork before, have we? We don’t know much about him either.”

“He seems to be an authority figure or warden for the cluster. They speak highly of him, but are purposefully vague,” Nightwing mused, rubbing his chin in thought. “I think I remember my star mentioning once that Clockwork helped him with his past.”

“So… he’s probably also a parental figure,” Robin said, and Nightwing nodded thoughtfully.

Batman looked exhausted, his cowl pulled down off of his head as he bent over the table with an almost inaudible creak of his back and stared intensely at the papers.

Jason’s star had come back, but there were no traces of Jason except an empty grave. They had all been too late when arriving at his grave, only to be met with a coffin that had been broken in from the inside. Whatever had happened, Jason had dug himself out on his own.

Robin knew that it killed Nightwing and Batman inside to imagine the boy they considered as family carving himself out of his own coffin.

The two of them were almost inconsolable at first, but they quickly gathered themselves up again and started investigating.

The cluster was surprisingly unhelpful, not even answering Nightwing when he asked questions about Jason. The only thing his star had said was, “Be patient.”

It was such a hauntingly simple and frustrating answer, exactly like what one would expect coming from an all-powerful and all-knowing being that lived for an unknown amount of years stuck with a child’s mind. Nightwing and Robin did not begrudge them, knowing that they were also protecting the quasar's secrets and bond with the other Robin, but Batman could not say the same.

Of course, they didn’t let that hold them down.

For the first time, Robin had been able to hear the song of the stars.

It was gorgeous. It was still soft, like waking up from a deep sleep, and sometimes it cut off like a bad connection, but Nightwing had looked relieved at the sound of it.

“There’s still another voice missing,” Nightwing had said sadly, “Jason’s quasar— her voice isn’t in the song.”

It already sounded so nice, with the melodic voices of the stars and planets and Dick’s star singing along, so if the loss of one voice was making it incomplete, just how beautiful was the sound when they were all together?

For many reasons, Robin wanted to find Jason.

He was reluctant to continue being Robin for awhile, but Nightwing convinced him to stay.

Once Jason was back, he would give back the suit.

“There’s something we’re missing,” Batman said slowly. “We need to review the facts.”

Nightwing nodded and looked at Robin encouragingly.

Robin began, “Okay. So on XX, XX of this year, we discovered that Jason Todd was revived or in some capacity, alive due to his star returning. He… dug his way out of the coffin himself, but has disappeared for now. The cluster seems to be aware of his movements and location, but is not planning to tell us where or why. The question is, how did Jason come back to life? Where is he, and if he's not in Gotham, did someone take him?”

Nightwing sighed. “We don’t have a lot of information. It’s just a whole bunch of what-ifs and wheres.”

Batman was silent, brooding.

Robin thought some more and then asked, slowly, “Have we reviewed the footage of the cluster before? What if… what if Jason’s star didn’t come back at the time that we thought?”

Nightwing blinked. “What do you mean?”

Batman, however, nodded suddenly. “I think I see what you’re saying. We should review the footage. Nightwing, maybe the time you noticed the star coming back isn’t accurate.”

“What! But I had been coming there every day!” Nightwing said, but then paused. His eyes went wide, and then rushed to the computer.

Batman patted Robin on the shoulder, making warmth ooze in his chest. Batman said with a cold, but vaguely grateful expression, “Good job on the new lead, Robin.”

Robin beamed.

They rewound the camera footage of the cluster which were all kept in the files, since Dick liked rewatching them.

And just as Robin suspected, it was true.

The empty space where the quasar had sat before her demise had not been as empty as Nightwing had thought. For at least a few days before her return as a black star, she had been very small and only noticeable in how light slightly bent around her tiny shape.

She had been shadowed and covered by her siblings until her final reveal and Jason’s ultimate return.

Nightwing covered his face. He seemed to be struggling to find the words on what to say.

Eventually, he said, strangled, “I should’ve looked closer. If I had known, we would’ve found Jason sooner!”

Batman sighed. “Don’t beat yourself up.” Both Robin and Nightwing looked at him with surprise. He sighed again and said, “I am… aware that I‘ve been upset and hostile of the Phantom Cluster. But ultimately, you are still bonded with them and they still offer you some semblance of protection. I am... also grateful that they gave us a chance to know that Jason is back. At least we know now that Jason had dug himself out a few days earlier.”

The three of them looked at each other.

Jason was going to be found and brought back to them. No matter what.

A few months later, almost 6 months after Jason's return, the silent mass that was Jason’s star suddenly bloomed into a protostar, larger than Robin’s. She was a ginormous, funneling top of blue and red nebula, quickly consuming the stellar remnants in the galaxy.

“… what does this mean?” Nightwing muttered as he stared at the footage of her new form. The other stars were cheerfully circling around their sibling again, their song now joined in by their returned sister. “Is he back for real? Was he not back before? Does this mean that he wasn't himself or something?"

Robin was silent, listening to the song. True to Nightwing’s words, the song was beautiful and ethereal.

It was a heaven’s choir, a siren’s song, a mother’s lullaby. It was beautiful in all sorts of ways. The sound was cold and sent shivers down his spine but oddly enough, he welcomed it.

“Do you think he’s… mad?” Robin asked. He felt strangely serene as he listened to the song of the stars.

“… hm?”

“Do you think Jason is mad that I’m Robin and that’s why he’s not coming home?”

Nightwing stared at him with such horror and disbelief that Robin quickly backtracked.

“It’s fine. He’s going to come home,” his tone was firm, hiding his inner insecurities. “The stars foretell it.”

Time passed and Jason’s star remained as a protostar, his own star often twirling around her in happy circles. Both sisters were cute to look at, especially because one was so big and the other was so small. The two of them spun cheerfully around each other, being fed nebula by their family, and Robin watched it all.

Of course, while the stars were in stasis, he was not.

He continued his duties as Robin, made secrets between only Nightwing and the stars, helped others and lived on, even when his mom was killed and his dad was paralyzed and in a coma. He could not prevent it because he had not known.

It was a cruel, cruel fact that the heavens did not care for civilian lives when they were lost.

(The stars did not care much for anyone but the Robins. It was a thought both flattering and terrifying.)

When his dad found out about him being Robin, he was forced to quit. He handed his uniform to Stephanie to keep safe for him, and then he was… normal again.

His protostar seemed unhappy with the decision, but thankfully not with him, because when he climbed onto the roof of the Drake manor to talk to her, she responded back just as eagerly as always. However, she had stopped moving, a sign of either displeasure, discomfort, or something from the future.

“Do I come back to being Robin?” He remembered whispering to her one night, and her answering twinkle made his heart swell.

He liked feeling important, but he also never truly wanted it. The pain and suffering that came from being a hero truthfully scared him. It was only the thought of Batman and Nightwing, as well as his star, that kept him from quitting all together when he first found out that Jason was back.

But he could admit to himself that he liked the feeling of flying through the air, beating bad guys, and saving people. He liked the feeling of recognition and attention.

He didn’t mind not being a hero for a little while. At least he knew that he would come back in the future.

Soon, Stephanie donned the Robin uniform, and at first, Tim could admit that he had been worried. She was reckless and foolhardy, but she was a good person with a keen eye for puzzles and problem-solving. He wanted her to succeed and in order to do so, she needed to meet the cluster.

It had been him who introduced her to her own celestial object and he was also the one who taught her about the Phantom Cluster and their abilities.

The both of them bonded over endearing and anthropomorphic astronomical bodies and Tim was the one who taught her to be Robin too, since Batman seemed insistent on kicking her down. It was difficult to make plans while Tim’s dad was also adamant on driving Stephanie away, but they made it work.

It was a peaceful night, as Tim snuck onto his roof and Stephanie quickly followed with a picnic blanket that was spread over his house shingles. It had been years since the both of them first met and then began working together in the hero scene, boosting each other up with their stars by their side. Now they were good friends after dating for a while and then Tim breaking up with her due to his change in status from a vigilante to civilian.

As they were chatting under the moon, with a tablet holding footage of their respective celestial objects, everything changed.

The song of the stars had cut off slowly, grinding to a halt and making both of them pause in their conversation.

“Uh. They just stopped singing. What does that mean?” Stephanie asked nervously.

Tim stared at the tablet and reached over to bring it closer. “… sometimes it means that there’s something we need to know or something is happening. I wonder what’s going on.”

He knew that Dick was also mostly likely noticing something was up as well.

Both Stephanie and Tim stared at the tablet in silence, tension building as nothing happened yet. The stars and planets slowed down and Tim’s star even stopped spinning, motionless.

Tim’s eyes were drawn to Jason’s quasar-turned-protostar.

There was another beat of silence, and then the camera’s feed turned to white with a sudden screech.

Both of them flinched from the loud scream and then watched a supernova consume the vision of the camera. It took a while before the brightness lowered and the shrieking of metal stopped ringing through their ears.

“Oh my gosh! Look!” Stephanie shook Tim’s shoulder, but it was unnecessary because he couldn’t take his eyes off of the screen.

Jason’s quasar had turned into a frighteningly enormous star. Almost 20 times the size of Dick’s star, Jason’s star had turned into a star that was so blue, it was white. She floated in space for a moment, before she then began a slow cycle around the cluster, carefully avoiding the planets so they would not burn in her luminosity. The rest of the cluster paused, as if taking in the sight of her before following suit and then…

Song burst from the feed again.

“Whoa,” Stephanie said, in a hushed whisper, “it’s beautiful.”

Dick had once described his and his star’s growth into adulthood with new identities. He had said that his star went supernova and transformed from a black hole to a giant star.

He had mentioned how the song had changed, with the addition of a fully mature voice of an adult star.

It happened the same way this time too.

Jason’s star had a light and delicate voice, distinctly feminine and quite high. She provided a soft harmony to the song alongside Dick’s star, with the both of their adult voices enriching the sound of the other stars, who were still children.

Stephanie gave another soft sound of awe.

Tim was more focused on what this meant.

It had been four years since his death. Now that his star had changed, it meant that Jason had also changed his identity, like how Robin became Nightwing. Whatever had happened, Jason had now grown up into an adult. He had come into a new identity in the four years he had been gone, and now he had found himself and alongside with it, his star.

But a question still remained.

Where was he?

————

Tim bopped his head to the music as he bent over his desk. It was another night of peace as he stayed in his room to do his school assignments, while his dad and Danna went on another date.

He was finishing up the last of his homework when he heard the door opening in the faint distance. He took a reflex glimpse outside the window, where he saw a cloudy sky, and then poked his head out of his room.

"Dad! Are you home?"

Silence.

Tim immediately tensed. He patted his pockets for weapons but found nothing. He inched back into his room and picked up the bat that was by his door. When he finally left his room again, he tried to go for nonchalant as he called out, "Dad! Did you bring home the wings I asked for?"

He carefully made his way to the foyer. But before he could turn around the corner and look at who had entered his home, he was knocked back by a fist.

He cried out as pain bloomed on his face. He squinted through the tears, silently wondering how they could hit so hard before he swung the bat. It was stopped with a hand, but Tim maneuvered his body and then lunged forward to kick the assailant back.

He darted backwards to get some distance and stared.

It was a muscular man, all clad in leather and black kevlar with a red helmet on his head.

Tim catalogued his appearance and could not figure out who this person was.

The only person with this kind of memo was the Red Hood, which was an alias that the Joker used, but that couldn’t be possible.

"Who are you?" He snapped. "What are you looking for?"

"What? I'm looking for a who," the man hissed, his voice coming through as electronic. "I'm looking for a Robin."

Tim's stomach dropped.

He said slowly, "I think you're looking in the wrong house. Robin isn't here."

"I heard you quit, Timothy Drake. I heard you quit being Robin and gave it to some other kid. Do you think it's that easy? Do you think it's that easy to leave being Robin behind?"

Oh crap.

Tim scrambled away as the man then lunged at him. He swung the bat again and as the man blocked with a fist, Tim lashed out with another kick. The man grabbed him by the ankle with the other hand and then threw him to the side.

Tim choked on his breath as his back hit the wall, knocking down some picture panes and shattering them on the floor. His back was already starting to ache, but he didn't have time to worry about that when the man struck again, punching him in the stomach.

Tim gagged on the bile rising up his throat before he attacked back with a jab to the throat. He then kicked the man twice in quick succession, making him grunt, and darted up on his feet, dodging a hit from the man's fist again.

"Who are you?!" Tim cried out, his blood freezing in his veins at the thought of Bruce and Dick's secret being known to others.

Would this man reveal their identities? Take Tim as a hostage? Use him to blackmail Bruce?

The man laughed mechanically. He reached behind his head and unlocked the helmet with a faint hiss of air. Then he dropped the helmet onto the floor and brushed his hair back with bright green eyes and a wild smirk full of teeth like he wanted to tear Tim apart.

Tim's eyes widened.

If the familiar face shape didn't key him in, it was the four pointed star on his cheek, unmistakeable and alight with bloody orange and turquoise, that told him just who had came into his house with the intent of attacking him.

"No..." he whispered in disbelief, scrambling backwards again as his breath came out quick and panicked.

Jason had come back?

Jason was back!

If he hadn't just been beaten by him with his fists, he probably would've been happy. Now he was just extremely confused and frightened.

"Oh yes," Jason purred. He was fully grown now, well muscled and clearly trained by someone other than Batman for the last four years. "You're in luck, Robin. You're the first one I saw after being back in this hell hole."

Tim was mentally making a list of the things he needed to do.

Finally, he replied slowly, "But why? Why did you see me first? And where were you?"

"I was dead, obviously," Jason scoffed. “And I came here to ask you a few questions.”

“Okay, cool,” Tim said nervously. “Did you need to punch me to ask me questions?”

Jason didn’t answer, but instead, swung to punch him again. Tim yelped and rolled to dodge. He was barely back on his feet before Jason grabbed his hair and pulled him down, kneeing him in the stomach.

Tim coughed but also took that moment while he was bent over to drop and kick out his legs, knocking Jason off his feet.

Jason fell and Tim jumped over him to get away. He flew down the stairs and barely reached the entryway when he was pounced onto by Jason, who felt like a damn elephant as he pinned him onto the floor with his body weight.

They wrestled but Tim was so out of Jason’s weight class that it wasn’t even funny. Tim could feel the panic within him rising as he struggled and tried to get away from the previous Robin, a once beacon of hope and light for Gotham.

“You have it so easy,” Jason hissed, as he started wrestling him to the ground. “A dad, money, a good home. You never had to dig through trash for scraps. You never had to take care of your dying mom while you were starving yourself. You never had to fight for your life while being tortured!”

Tim kicked Jason in the stomach, allowing just enough space for him to throw back his elbow to his chin. Jason made a faint noise of pain, and punched him once more, but before it could escalate, the most intense feeling of nausea struck Tim.

For a moment, he wondered if he was going to throw up over the previously dead Robin’s hands, but when Jason also paused and moved away from him with a gasp, he realized that both of them were struck with the same condition.

Tim blinked rapidly as the both of them stared at each other in thinly veiled confusion and distrust. Jason suspiciously stared at him, and then looked up out the window that was placed over the door. As Tim blinked away the stars in his eyes, he was beginning to realize that it was not just stars in his vision, but also stars in the sky.

The night was now clear, allowing them both to see a patch of sky with two distinctive lights.

Both Robins, old and new, stared at the rapidly twinkling lights in the distance. There were two flashes, blinking over and over, as if trying to get their attention.

The two sat there in silence. Then Jason looked down at his wrist, which held a watch that was now projecting the image of his star. She was spinning and bursting with solar flares like crazy, enough that Jason gave a disbelieving, almost angry laugh.

"Okay, jeez, I get it, Princess. You want me to keep your sister's fucking host alive."

Tim exhaled in relief, casting his eyes over to the night sky, which held his star in the distance.

Thank the stars that she helped him.

He didn’t want to know what would happen if her and her sister couldn’t get their attention.

He silently mouthed, "Thanks, partner."

The sky twinkled noticeably one last time before it stopped.

Tim jolted when Jason suddenly bent down and started taking off his shirt.

“Excuse me?!” He shrieked, feeling the bruises ache as Jason started undressing him. He struggled weakly, but Jason was still pulling apart his clothes.

“Shut up. Where’s the damn mark?”

Just to spare himself the indignity, Tim pulled his t-shirt to present his side and snapped, “Here.”

Jason stared at the four pointed star, colored with baby blue and butter yellow, for a beat and then stood up in a huff.

Tim glared at him. He loved the Robins and he loved Batman, but that didn’t mean he was just going to forgive him for almost killing him!

"Where are your medical supplies?" Jason asked, looking around his room.

Tim grimaced and said, "The kitchen."

“Where?”

He eyed him with distrust. Jason put his hands on his hips and waited.

“…. In the left cabinet next to the stove.”

Jason went off to look for it, probably, and Tim slowly sat up, rubbing his shoulder that had been knocked against several surfaces this night, while he lifted his eyes to the window again.

His star was still there, faint due to her distance from Earth, but she was still just barely bright enough that he could find her through Gotham’s smog.

Thank the heavens for her and her sister.

Jason came back with a stomp and the emergency medical kit in his hands. He sat down next to Tim and raised a hand, palm up.

"Hand."

Tim gave it to him.

Jason opened the kit and then began to inspect, clean, and wrap up his wounds. Even for his back, Tim was asked to take off his shirt and Jason applied bruise gel all over it. Tim was tense at first, but eventually, he just kind of melted underneath Jason's hands and closed his eyes as he was taken care of by the previous Robin.

Sometimes he would ask Tim questions.

“So what do you call your star?”

“Partner. She calls me partner back too.”

“Ha! You’re like cowboys.”

“You sound like Dick.”

“Like hell I do!”

But Jason didn’t hurt him again. Tim was full-on relaxing by the end of it.

When Jason was finished, Tim was lightly dozing from the warmth of the numbing creams and the fact that it was a late night on a school day. The fact that he hadn’t been hugged or touched in a while certainly aided his sleepy haze too. Jason snorted at the sight of him and said, "Aren't you too trusting? I just beat you up."

Tim grumbled as he opened his eyes and uncurled from his position. "You're an asshole, y'know that? What was all of that even for?"

Jason sighed and said, "I changed. And... I guess… sorry. I wasn't in a right state of mind when I came here."

Tim twisted to look at him. Looking at him closer, Jason's eyes were still green, though noticeably less bright.

The shade of green was so familiar that Tim stared for a long time before he suddenly blurted out, "The league. You were with the League of Assassins!"

Jason narrowed his eyes. "I was."

"Was it Talia? Did she revive you? What happened?"

Jason looked exasperated but he nodded with a deliberately careless shrug. "I died, crawled out of my grave like a zombie, and then she picked me up. I went with her to the League and she threw me into the Lazarus Pits before training me. Now I’m here again to take back what’s mine.”

“Robin?” Tim blurted again. “I’ll give it back to you. I was going to— but someone needed to be Robin and my dad made me quit so I gave it to a friend and she became Robin for a little while, but I don’t think she’ll mind if you get it back.”

“Breathe,” Jason deadpanned, eyeing him with an unidentifiable emotion. “And I don’t care for it anymore.”

“You sure? You definitely cared about it 20 minutes ago,” drawled Tim.

Jason glared at him and Tim narrowed his eyes at him right back.

Eventually, Jason rolled his eyes and looked away. “Well, I stopped caring.” He pointed at Tim demandingly. “I don’t give a fuck what happens next, but if you tell anyone I’m here, I’ll break your damn face!”

“But why?”

Tim could understand that Jason was angry. Whatever had happened in the League had changed him for the worse, but there was still that familiar, charismatic, and caring boy inside, evident by Tim's carefully bandaged wounds (despite being the one to inflict them, but whatever). He could see that Jason was feeling vengeful too, but he didn't want Jason to be estranged from Dick or Bruce.

"I have plans," Jason said with a sneer. "Plans for Gotham that can't have B and Dick interfering."

"... are you trying to get revenge?"

"So what if I am? I died. Better yet, I was murdered. It doesn't matter what you think, I'll do what I need to do and because you're the host of my star's sister, I'll let you go this one time."

Tim thought of Bruce's brooding and endless self-blame at Jason's death. He thought of Dick's almost desperate attempts in training Tim and his neverending grief from the loss of a brother and the loss of a possible future knowing him. He thought of Alfred's silent sorrow, his eyes full of fear when Tim used to suit up in the Batcave. He thought of that period of time where Batman brutalized every criminal he came across, even the petty ones, turning Gotham into a city of rage and pain.

".... They all mourned for you," Tim said, not really knowing what outcome he was looking for by saying this,"B and Dick mourned for you. It was so bad that I had to force them to make me Robin because Batman needed him. Batman needed you."

Jason stared at him, his eyes flickering between greenish hues before he looked away, eyebrows furrowed.

“It doesn’t matter,” Jason snorted coldly. “They clearly didn't care enough if the Joker is still alive. I’m going to stay here and I’m going to kill the Joker. No one else avenged me, so I’ll just have to do it myself.”

The Joker?

Tim's breath hitched as he froze so badly that even Jason paused and raised an eyebrow at him.

Tim stared at Jason with wide eyes.

He could not help but look down slightly, at the four pointed star that covered Jason’s cheek, a mark of the heavens that bound him to a star.

Jason snarled, “What?!”

Tim said slowly, “The… The Joker’s not alive.”

When Jason’s tense posture and aggressive stance slackened into shock, Tim had to continue and say, “He died a while ago.”

Jason grabbed him by the shoulders, fingers digging into his skin as he roared, “Who did it?!”

Tim pursed his lips.

Jason could probably keep a secret, right? He didn’t believe that he would go and tell anyone, especially because….

“Nightwing did. And I helped him hide the body.”

|||||||||||||||||||||||

Check out my CB!Jason art here

Tim and Dani are partners!! Hooray!

I'm sure you can guess who Steph ends up with, hm? She’ll get her own story, dw.

Tbh, I wanted this to be a 3+1 thing with all of the other Robins bc I thought it'd be short, but then it became longer than I expected, so I just... continued writing.... 😶 I think I got too excited again.

I'm trying to write in chronological order, but the history of the Batfam is so ridiculous that idk if I can do that, but if I don't do that, I'll get confused myself, y'know? Someone please help.

The scene where Jason beats the shit out of Tim apparently comes after he reveals his identity to Bruce… so I’m going to switch it for it to make sense. He was also supposed to choke Tim in this fic, but then it got too dark… so I changed that too :9

“How come none of them could figure out that he was with the League?” They knew he was revived in the coffin, so no one thought of the Lazarus pits bc they didn’t think he was basically a zombie (suspend your disbelief, please!). Also, more info on Jazz will be in the fic with Jason’s return.

Tim was originally supposed to go with Tucker, but then I thought about it and I changed it because 1) like Dick and Jason, his star is sort of the opposite of their personality, 2) I don’t see how they’ll encourage each other to grow, 3) a secret third thing

A deeper explanation of reason 2 is on AO3.

[plaguedocboi]

(Heyyyy this is a very personal post that includes discussion of mental illness, mentions of suicide and related topics!! I don’t usually post things this personal!)

Over the past three years since I read Moby Dick, I’ve obviously been absolutely fucking enamored by my horrible little man Ahab. Recently, with whale weekly ending and my dashboard being filled with posts about it, I’ve been thinking even more about him and considering exactly why I relate to him so much. I can’t diagnose what’s wrong with him due to the fact that I don’t know him personally and also he’s fictional, but I’ve (at some point in my life) had almost every mental illness symptom he displays over the course of the book. I’ve been severely depressed, paranoid, anxious to the point of having disabling panic attacks, irrationally angry at the universe and lashing out at everyone around me, developed insomnia due to the terrifying nightmares and hallucinations I was having, and even had delusions that I had been to hell and was sent back to fight god (yes I’m being serious). My life felt out of my control and I couldn’t imagine my future because I was blinded by my own pain. I never expected to survive this long either because I imagined something horrible would happen to me or I would eventually kill myself. And, honestly, that thought didn’t bother me very much.

The main difference between Ahab and I is that I was a teenager in the 21st century so I got professional help and medication instead of fucking off the sea and trying to kill god. Watching him get worse and die during the story is like watching a horrifying alternate version of myself. I absolutely understand why he made the decisions he did, even if I know logically that they were the wrong decisions. If I hadn’t had access to modern mental health resources, would I have followed a similar path, eventually destroying myself and everyone around me? If he had lived today, could he have found peace? Maybe. But we will never know because our circumstances were different, regardless of how similar we may have been. I don’t think I’ve encountered another character to whom I relate so deeply and see so much of myself in and that’s why I will probably never be normal about this stupid 200-year old book, but it feels so strange to admit that because he is widely regarded as a raging lunatic and not exactly someone you “should” relate to or even particularly like. Maybe I’m more like Ahab than is socially acceptable to admit. I survived and I’m better now but that will always be part of me, and it’s not a part I’m ashamed of. Let’s get this whale, boys.

[somethingvicked]

Forget me (not) pt 3

warnings: female reader, talk of memory loss, angst to fluff

You stared at Eddie, your head pounding from the sudden overload of information that just broke through the wall that had been there.

You felt the overwhelming love you had for Eddie, had had for so long. But you also remembered what he had told you, how he had pushed you aside like you were nothing, for Chrissy.

You pulled back, as if he had burned you and Eddie looked at you in panic, like a deer in the headlights.

“Easy, sweetheart, easy…” he started and you suddenly saw red.

“Don’t call me that!” you snapped and he paled. “I’m not your sweetheart any longer, don’t you remember? Because I sure do.”

But at the same time… Eddie had been at your side practically all this time. Why had he? Wasn’t he scared what Chrissy would think?

No, of course he wasn’t. Because he wanted to stay friends with you, he just didn’t want you to have feelings for him. And then you forgot them, a small voice in your head said.

Well, it worked out quite well for him, didn’t it?

You rose to your feet and Eddie quickly did the same, still looking at you like you were some unstable lunatic with a ticking bomb.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” you said, your voice tense. “It clearly worked. And so I guess you better go back to Chrissy, since I now remember everything.”

“Wait, no, Y/N, it’s not like that…”

“I’m back to my old self now, Eddie,” you growled at him. “You don’t need to protect me anymore or do your duty as a friend.”

“Sweetheart, me and Chrissy broke up!”

That made you stop dead in your tracks and you turned around. “You did?”

“Yeah,” Eddie nodded, panting as if he was in pain. “About two weeks after… your accident. She didn’t like that I spent all my time with you…”

You hadn’t thought it was possible for you to be more angry at him, but lo and behold!

“Are you saying it’s my fault she dumped you, Munson?!” you screeched, grimacing as the loud sound made your headache worse.

“No!” Eddie all but squeaked, “I… I’m trying to say that… being at your side was all I wanted. What happened… it made me realize… how much you mean to me. And I know I was an idiot, an insensitive dolt, a goddamn jerk! I hate myself for treating you that way and making you feel like you were not the most important person in my life! Always had been.”

By now he was nearly sobbing, tears brimming in his eyes. “When I heard what had happened… you have no idea… I thought you had died. And the last conversation I had with you was that I wished  you forgot everything.”

“And I did,” you said, shaking your head, still angry with him, but his tears and broken puppy eyes had made it go down a little. The fucker, even when he didn’t try he knew how to play you like a fiddle.

“Yes, you did. You didn’t remember me. I know I deserved it. To have you looking at me like I was a stranger, not being allowed to tickle you or carry you on my back… you remembering everyone else, but not me. I deserved that. But Y/N… please believe me when I say that you are the most important person in my life. When you left that day I sat and contemplated who I would miss more if I would never see them again – you or Chrissy. And… me never seeing Chrissy again, it didn’t made that much of a difference. But the thought of being without you, it made me… I felt shattered. I was going to call you, but then they called me and told me what had happened.”

You rubbed your temples. All of this… it was too much for you to handle right now.

“I… I need to go home,” you got out. “Think about all this.”

“I’ll drive you,” Eddie said, but you shook your head. “I want to be alone.”

“I don’t care,” Eddie said with a frown. “I’m not letting you walk home after regaining your memories and had such a shock. What if something happens? No, get in the van. I’ll drive you. We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to, but you’re not walking.”

A part of you wanted to smile, both at his stubbornness and with how he cared for you. But the rest of you were still so shaky after everything that you just pushed it away.

A little while later you sat in your room, back at your desk with the photo album in front of you. Eddie had kept his promise and not talked to you the whole way home, even though he had glanced over at you at least one time every minute.

Despite having your memory back completely you felt more confused than ever.

Thankfully your mother had gone to the grocery store, thinking you were spending the day with Eddie, so you didn’t have to go through the roller coaster to tell her you were back to normal.

You weren’t sure what to do with Eddie. Remembering how he had treated you when he got together with Chrissy and his reaction when you told him how you felt about him… it made you feel heartbroken all over again but also angry.

And then… then you remembered how he had supported you and stood by you these last weeks, never quitting on you despite you not remembering anything about him, no matter how he had tried.

It felt like your head was about to explode. This was just too big and complicated for you to take on by yourself.

Usually you went to Eddie if you needed advice and talk something out but obviously that was a no go.

You didn’t want to talk to your mother either, it was enough you had to tell her your memory was back – your parents had been through hell, probably more so than you these last couple of weeks, you didn’t want to worry them even more.

After some time of contemplating you decided to call Steve. He was Eddie’s friend, he was your friend, and he knew the history between you two. He seemed like a good choice.

Steve didn’t dawdle, he arrived less than twenty minutes after you hung up. The first thing he did when you opened the door was to give you a big hug.

“I’m so happy your memory is fully recovered,” he told you with a smile. “Although I still would’ve hoped you forgot about me being King Steve forever.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at that as you two walked up to your room.

You and Steve sat at the floor on your bedroom, backs leaned against your bed as you told him about the moment when you remembered everything, your reaction to Eddie, and how you felt so lost on what to do now.

Steve was quiet for a moment, running a hand through his hair, clearly deep in thought.

“You know I think what he did to you was really shitty. I seriously could have beaten him up for being so insensitive,” he told you, making you snort.

“But, he did tell me the same story – that even before you crashed into the tree he was imagining his life without you and without Chrissy. It was you that he almost broke down over losing. And this whole time… please forgive me for this, Y/N, but I actually told him that perhaps he should give you some space, do something else when the time went on and you didn’t remember a single thing about him. It was slowly draining him, he… he couldn’t fall asleep without looking at old pictures of you, crying.”

You were shocked. “Really?”

“Yeah. And – let me just say I didn’t exactly agree with that either – but he didn’t even look at Chrissy after your accident. Couldn’t stand to be near her. I think… I think he felt like it was his fault, what had happened to you, because he had been with her.”

“But I didn’t want him to do this because he felt guilty!” you protested.

“That’s what I said too, but he insisted that’s not why. And you know what? I believed him.”

Steve smiled at you and patted your shoulder. “Y/N, love is not easy. Everyone keeps saying it is but it’s really a fucking mess. When I was with Nancy I spray painted the sign of the cinema, calling her a slut. All because I thought she had cheated on me. The first girl I loved and I did that to her.”

You shook your head. You remembered that very clearly. It was before you and Steve became friends but you had still heard about it from the others.

“What I’m saying is… yes, Eddie was a goddamn idiot. But he realized he was and what he did wrong. And he has tried to make it right, and he will keep trying to make it right, if you let him. So… only you can decide whether you want to forgive Eddie or not, Y/N. But… perhaps you should try and do what he did. Try imagining the rest of your life without him. Does that feel like something you would be okay with?”

Your felt your breath hitch and your stomach turn into knots. A life without Eddie? It felt like… like suddenly the same feeling from your memory loss was back. Only now it wasn’t the past you missed but the future. It was only blank.

“No,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“Then there’s your answer,” Steve told you softly.

Steve drove you to the trailer park and you walked up to the Munson’s trailer and knocked on the door.

Eddie opened, and you got the feeling of dejá vu from the last time you had come here. But Eddie sure looked different.

He looked as if he had cried, his hair a nest, as if he had ran his fingers through the curls multiple times, his knuckles bruised as if he had punched a wall.

“Y/N?” he wondered in surprise when he saw you.

“Hey,” you said, smiling weakly. “Look, Eddie…”

“Is this the moment where you… you’re going to tell me that you never want to see me again?” Eddie interrupted, his voice trembling, and it honestly broke your heart.

“No,” you told, reaching out a pushing a curl out of his face. “I… I’m still quite angry with you for what you did. But… it feels like this whole thing, what happened… it was some sort of lesson for both of us. A lesson for you to have me forget you. And a lesson for me, how it would feel to have no connection to you. The feeling, when I think back of how it felt, not knowing everything that has happened between us… it was horrible. I don’t want to be without you again, or ever forget you again. Not even the stupid thing you did, even though it makes me want to shake you.”

Eddie let out a gasp and then he all but squished you against him, holding you so hard you were sure you would have bruises.

“Oh, sweetheart…” he whispered, carefully kissing your temple. The bruises were healed but he remembered them all too vividly, kissing every spot where they had been.

“I’m so sorry for what I did. And for how I behaved when I started dating Chrissy. I just… I guess I got caught up with how it felt that someone popular actually wanted me. And in the back of my head I always thought you and I would have more time. I was an idiot, I know that. I will never make that mistake again.”

He inhaled before he continued: “And I’m so sorry that I never realized… that you loved me. I… I wished I had realized it sooner but I didn’t…”

You shushed him. “I know. That’s what I mean, that maybe the accident happening… it was a wake up call for both of us.”

Eddie nodded. “Yes. I’ve always loved you, sweetheart. But it’s more than that. You… you’re my person. The reason why it has never worked out with any other girl. Why I couldn’t see a future with Chrissy. Because you were the one.”

Now it was your turn to blink back tears.

Eddie suddenly pulled something from his pocket. Your eyes widened when you saw it was the dried flower from the scene of the accident.

“I found it in the van, on the passenger seat,” Eddie said. “I want you to have this and save it. As a reminder, that you will never forget me again. And as a promise from me, that I will never forget you’re the only one I want.”

You smiled, and placed the blue Forget-me-not behind your ear.

“The only one?”

“The only one,” Eddie promised, sealing it with a kiss.

please, like, comment and reblog!

Your likes are wonderful but reblogs expand my reading circle.

@ali-r3n @quinnyficsy @animechick555 @h-ness1944 @eddie-is-a-god

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@amandahobblepot @xplrnowornever

[corpses777]

Daddy Issues

𖤐 angst / fluff | fem!reader x late seasons daryl

This was exactly what Daryl didn’t want to happen. Sitting the girl down in front of him to have a ‘talk’ with her in his own house in Alexandria that didn’t even feel like his in the first place. 

 

It felt too serious, adult-like; he had figured that talking with kids actually wasn’t a problem, but teenagers? He didn’t know a thing about that. 

 

The girl in question was young—way too young for her behavior. Based on looks, Daryl would say the girl was maybe 15-17ish. She would send him seductive glances with those doe eyes but still be the sweetest kid around Alexandria, but Daryl couldn’t see her like that anymore. He had had enough by now. 

 

He didn’t want to hurt the girls feelings, but it had got to stop before he wouldn’t be able to say no anymore. 

 

“Listen, kid... you’ve got to stop, okay?” He starts off easily, hoping she’d get just this hint at least. 

 

“Stop what, Mr. Dixon?” She replies, in Daryl’s mind, acting dumb. 

 

“Don’t be stupid.” He says more sternly, and she swallows. “You know exactly what I mean.” He adds. 

 

“But-“ She starts, but Daryl interrupts. “How old are you exactly?” He asks, forearms resting on the dark wooden table. 

 

“Who’s askin’?” She answers a bit smuggly. 

 

“I am??” He raises his voice a bit, getting pretty damn annoyed now. 

 

But she goes quiet, not answering.

 

“Answer me, for fucks sake!” He slams his fist into the table, and she sits up a bit straight in shock, her eyes widening. 

 

“Sixteen ..?” She mumbles quietly. 

 

“Sixt-, kiddo, you know what you’re doing is totally wrong and inappropriate, hm?” He felt like Rick right now, but this had to be done. 

 

She blinks, shrugs shyly. 

 

“No, don’t you just shrug; I know you’ve got problems, but you can’t act like that around old men, yeah?” And with that, the young girl tears up, her bottom lip trembling. 

 

Daryl cursed himself out in his head before sighing and standing up. His intentions weren’t to make an ‘innocent’ teenager cry. Even though the girl made him angry and annoyed, she worried him just as much; this wasn’t normal behavior for young girls. 

 

He walks over to the girl, kneeling down on the floor beside the chair to cup her face and wipe the already fallen tears with his broad thumbs before pulling her closer, tangling his hand in her free hair on the back of her head. 

 

“Shh.., I ain’t wantin’ to make ya cry, baby, ya know that...” he mumbles into the air beside her head, his cheek pressed against hers. 

 

She sniffles, her voice wobbly. “Im so sorry, Mr. Dixon... I didn’t mean to make you angry.” she sniffles. 

 

Some people would probably say that she was overreacting, but who knew what she had in her baggage from the past? It could be anything, and in this moment Daryl could make some pretty accurate guesses. 

 

“Don’t go apologizing.. but this is wrong, and you know that, princess.” He tries to comfort her and confront her without being too harsh. 

 

“But I really like you,” she sniffles into his shoulder. 

 

“I like you too, but not like that, okay?”

 

She nods; she promised herself to stop since Daryl asked her to. She’d always do what he said, trusting him blindly. 

this is so shitty but uhm .. me core!! 😝

[hobisexually]

x

[tyrianlynch]

When ur disabled and ur bosses start being shitty to u and it’s very clearly bc theyre annoyed ur disabled and everyone in ur life is like “oh we’ve all dealt with bosses being shitty” but they don’t get the huuuuge different between bosses being shitty and bosses being shitty purely bc ur disabled

[criminalamnesia]

that 141 x reader you just did was so good! i need to know what happens next. like after reader is better, do they stay in the military? stay in 141? or do they take a discharge? I’m not the original ask but it was just so good.

love your writing btw!

thank you! here’s part two :)

ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE

you were beginning to hate the infirmary.

the white walls. the moans of pain. the smell of bleach and blood.

the reminder of why you were here. of who put you here.

your friends. your family. your team. john. johnny. kyle. simon.

you’d told the doctor to not let your teammates in, and she had tried, but there was only so much she could do. she couldn’t monitor the door all the time, and so a week after waking up from your coma, john price is sitting at your beside once again.

his hands are clasped together, knuckles white with the intensity of his grip. he’s leaning forward, elbows resting on the bed, hands under his chin. his position conveys his regret and worry. he looks like he should be in church, knelt between the pews and spewing silent prayers to a god that isn’t listening.

you haven’t spoken to him since he sat down ten minutes ago. the second you saw him step inside the infirmary, you knew he was there for you. there to try and speak to you, to apologize.

fuck him and his apologies.

you turned your head to the side, eyes staring at the white curtain separating your bed from the next. you studied the stitching while you listened to him breathe next to you. he hadn’t spoken either— just sat down and watched you.

it made your skin crawl, how he thought this was okay. how he thought this would be the way to get back into your good graces.

he clears his throat then, a sound you’ve heard a million times before. it makes you want to gag now.

“love,” his voice is soft, caring. you want to hit him in the jaw.

“can we talk? please?”

you don’t turn over, don’t even spare him a glance. you keep your gaze trained on the curtain. the only giveaway that he has your attention is the fists you clench at your sides.

he takes the silence as an invitation, that bastard.

“what happened—” he begins, then grunts. stops. takes a second, then begins again.

“what we did,” he says, and you roll your eyes. “it wasn’t right. the intel was from a trusted source. we—” he sighs then, and you can tell he’s rubbing his temple. he did that when he was stressed. when he was anxious.

“we were wrong to believe them over you, love. and im— im sorry.”

silence ensues. you don’t give him any indication that you’ve heard what he said. he sighs again, inhaling deeply.

“you’re still part of this team. johnny and gaz, they’ve been sitting outside this damn room like sentries. can barely pry ‘em away for drills.” he chuckles then, but it’s sad. pitiful. mournful.

“there’s nothing we can do to make this right,” he tells you. you’re still mulling over what he said about johnny and gaz. still hung up on the fact that he didn’t mention simon at all.

simon, who did the most damage to you, both psychologically and physically. simon, who shared your bed. simon.

simon, who is too much of a coward to face you for his crimes.

“but we want to try,” price is speaking again. “if you’ll let us.”

he stops talking. waits a beat, then two. then, you hear his chair scrape. he’s getting up, and that’s when you turn your head to face him.

he looks bad. bags under the eyes, skin pale, beard overgrown. you think he deserves this. deserves worse than this. his eyes meet yours, and they widen the tiniest bit at the attention you’re showing him.

your voice is full of venom as you speak.

“nothing,” you seethe, angry tears blurring your vision. “will ever undo what you did to me. what he did to me.”

price knows you’re talking about simon. the whole team knew you were a thing. hell, when they’d strapped you to that chair and debated who would ‘interrogate’ you, they hadn’t even thought to include simon. why would he want to torture the person he loved?

to their surprise, he had volunteered to take point.

“when i get out of this bed,” you continue. “im gone. and i never, never, want to see any of you again, or else im putting a fucking bullet between your eyes.”

the captain doesn’t speak. you can see the remorse on his face. you couldn’t care less about his feelings.

he gives a short nod, and without another word, he turns and leaves the room.

after john’s visit, no one else tries to visit you. you no longer catch glimpses of kyle or johnny outside the infirmary door. you’re glad they’re starting to get the hint.

but you’re still getting flowers. you don’t know where they’re coming from. sometimes they’re dropped off by a nurse, other times they appear in the morning after a restless sleep. there’s never a note. never anything to suggest who would be leaving them.

you know it’s one of the 141, but you don’t know exactly who. you feel certain it’s not simon.

but, unbeknownst to you, it is him. he knows you don’t want to see him— to see any of them. price had told them all about what you’d said to him during your talk.

price had also told them that he’d already started preparing your transfer papers. that had caused an uproar from soap, who’d quickly been quieted by a saddened price.

simon had expected it. expected worse, actually. he knew that if the roles had been reversed, he wouldn’t have been as merciful as you. it made him hate what they’d done to you so much more.

there had been the tiniest doubt in his mind when all the evidence pointed to you. he hadn’t believed it at first— and then things became damning. everything pointed to you. trusted sources were pointing their fingers at you, and everyone listened. he had listened.

he had volunteered to torture you because he’d been angry. rage he hadn’t felt in years bubbled to the surface of his skin, and he wanted to tear you limb from limb. how dare you come into their lives— his life— and betray them so substantially?

simon didn’t trust easily. he was battered and broken and scarred. shattered and malformed pieces hastily glued back together. he let the team in. let you in. let you see his face. let you into his bed. let you into his fucking heart.

and you turned around and drove a dagger into him. or so he thought.

he thought his anger and actions had been justified. thought he was doing the world a favor by butchering you. but he was wrong. the team was wrong.

he finds himself regretting how he hadn’t listened to your pleas, but there’s nothing he can do about it now.

he knows the chances of you forgiving him, of letting him back into your life, are slim to none. but how could he not at least try?

you’d know each other for years. been together for years. all of it thrown away because he still knew the hurt of betrayal all too well. because it was too easy to fall back into the mindset that it was him against everyone. that the only person he knew, the only one he could rely on, was himself.

so he left flowers. your favorite ones. and he did so without making you face him, without apologizing or groveling. it was the least he owed you.

a month after your coma, you were finally allowed out of the infirmary. you were still healing, skin still tender and bruised. pink, jagged scars lining your skin; eternal reminders of the pain you’d been subjected to.

you’d been given a t-shirt and a pair of jeans, which you’d pulled on with much fuss. every time you struggled or stumbled, you found yourself getting angry. angry at the men who did this to you.

the anger was going to eat you alive, at least that’s what the psychologist that had been dropping by to see you had said. she’d told you you need to let it go, and you’d laughed in her face.

how do you let something like this go?

you didn’t know. you didn’t think you were strong enough to do that. not a good enough person to forgive the men that had carved into you.

once you had dressed, you shuffled out into the hallway. you’d profusely denied an escort, and the doctor had reluctantly acquiesced. she’d let you go, with just the promise that you’d keep your iv hooked in.

so here you were, trudging down the halls of the base, iv pole rattling along behind you.

you could feel eyes on you, but no one dared to get too close. you were glad. you didn’t want more empty apologies and sympathetic words.

you still remembered the way to price’s office like the back of your hand. you doubted you’d ever forget it.

time and time again you’d found yourself here. sometimes, getting reprimanded. others, congratulated. a few times you’d shown up in tears, and price had let you in without a word.

now you were standing outside his door, trying to contain the rage in your veins.

you raised a hand. knocked once, firm and loud.

“come in!” price called from inside.

you were already twisting the door knob, pushing into the room.

your eyes found price first. he was leaning against his desk, arms crossed over his chest. his hat was absent from his head, instead resting beside him on the desk.

and then you noticed simon.

he was wearing all black. his hands were covered, bones decorating the black gloves. gloves you’d seen many times before. gloves that had been pressed to gunshots, trying to stop the bleeding.

the lower half of his face was covered, allowing you to see from his eyes up. his sandy blonde hair was ruffled.

you quickly turned your attention back to price.

“love, what are you doin’ here? you should be in bed—” he began, but you waved a hand as you stepped further into the room. you pulled your iv pole in behind you, then kicked the door shut.

“don’t talk, just listen. i still mean what i said when you came to visit. the only reason im here right now is because you haven’t put in for my fucking transfer.” you hissed.

the captain’s eyes widened, his face taking on a sheepish expression at the revelation that he’d been caught. simon stood quietly beside him, eyes trained on you. you ignored him.

“love, i didn’t want to do anything before you were ready—” he began. you cut him off.

“bullshit! you didn’t want to do anything because you don’t want me to leave. you want me to forgive you, right? hear you all out? come back and be a happy little family again?”

the room fell eerily silent as you stared at the captain. your heart was roaring in your ears.

“put in the fucking transfer, john.” you finished.

he reluctantly nodded. he inhaled, his eyes glancing at his lieutenant briefly, before he spoke again.

“of course, love. ‘m sorry.”

you didn’t say anything else. you turned to go, your back to the men, when simon’s voice cut through the air.

“you should be respectful to your captain, sergeant.”

you froze as you took in his words. was he fucking serious?

you didn’t turn around. you trained your eyes on the door as you spoke words through gritted teeth.

“you should watch your tongue, lieutenant, before I fucking cut it off.”

with that, you pulled open the door and stepped into the hallway, slamming it loudly behind you.

author’s note:

apologies for the wait! I hope everyone enjoyed! (this is being posted before proofreading, so I hope it’s okay— I’ll read through it later, it’s just late and im tired lol)

[call-memissbrightside]

“Papa, you love mama?”

Katsuki Bakugo continued walking beside his son, but the hitch in his breath was a sign that he heard the question.

Katsuma looked up to the older man, little hand held by his father’s more calloused one. The little boy was a carbon copy of Katsuki, but that also meant he was smart— and just like Kats did as a kid— Katsuma wasn’t shy to ask adults hard questions.

The six year old knew he had a mom that loved him, and that was enough for him. She cared for him, made him breakfast and dinners, and let him jump on the bed for a bit as long as he promised he’d burn out all his energy and go to bed on time. Katsuma knew not having a dad was odd— his classmates always asked why he never drew a daddy when he drew his family.

Yet, you made it your life’s mission to make sure Katsuma never felt unloved because you chose to be a single parent— you were his mama and his papa, and Katsuma loved that.

Yet, now Katsuma had a father, and his little brain worked overtime trying to understand if now it meant he had a full-family, finally. He had a mom, and a dad, and they loved him. Yet, did that mean they loved each other? It was all confusing for the boy and he needed answers.

“I love your mom.” Katsuki’s ears burned from the simple confession but his son wasn’t done asking questions.

“Why didn’t you know about me until I was five?” Katsuma’s brows furrowed.

The older blonde sighed, before stopping. Katsuma looked even more confused as Katsuki kneeled down to meet his red eyes.

“Look bud, your mama and I—,” Katsuki scrambled to find the right words. Katsuma started to chew on his thumb, a habit Katsuki picked up on when his little boy was nervous. Carefully pulling his hand away from his mouth, Katsuki held his son’s hand instead.

“We love you so, so much,” Katsuki squeezed his hand. “Sometimes adults can make mistakes, and I’ll always wish I was a papa to you when you were little but never be angry at your mama for that, okay?”

Katsuma nodded dramatically, the thought absurd to the six year old.

“I will always love your mom— “ Katsuma started jumping in excitement.

“Mama and papa are gonna be together forever? Like married?”

Katsuki took hold of his son’s shoulders, stopping Katsuma’s excited hops.

“Not exactly buddy.” It hurt the older man to see the utter disappointment on his son’s face.

“We… uh—,” Katsuki didn’t even know what was happening between you two. Hooking up on and off and coparenting blurred the lines of labels.

“But you two love each other, and you guys love me, right papa?” Katsuma asked.

Katsuki smiled, ruffling his son’s unruly blonde hair.

“That’s right buddy, and that’s enough for me.”

Katsuma might’ve looked like his father, but he had your smile— the same expression Katsuki loved on you growing on the little boys face.

“That’s enough for me too papa!”

[maxtermind]

baby, would i still be your lover?

★ : summary :: when he accidentally insults you during an argument ★ : feat :: max verstappen, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris ★ : genre :: angst ★ : word count :: 2.9k ★ : a/n :: as much as i love making the crack texts, i'm just an angst addict 😔

Max Verstappen

Everyone, people who weren’t even in Max’s close proximity, knew that he was impulsive and a little reckless. With you, on the contrary, Max was usually a think first, act later kind of a lover. That wasn’t to say that when arguments happened, they were a pretty sight to look at.

It was a single thing that you said which suddenly turned into a huge blown out argument, leaving your head throbbing as Max continued to vent his frustrations about unrelated issues.

"You're so hot-headed, you can't even have a normal conversation without blowing up."

"Attacking me now, are you?" Max retorted, his tone defensive.

He was quick to bite back and the ball in your throat made it scratch-y to talk. You were sure that your eyes were welling up with tears but he was too far away to see it.

"I'm just stating the truth.” You started after taking a shuddering breath. “Every time we talk, it turns into a fight because you can't control your temper."

"Well, maybe if you didn't push all my buttons, we wouldn't be here."

He was talking in the same decibel at least and for a second you had hope that everything would be better. Then his words registered and the hope vanished as well.

"I'm not the one who flies off the handle at the slightest provocation!"

You had to stop and take another breath, otherwise, you were going to start crying and this conversation was inevitably going to get left in between because Max wasn’t an asshole who was okay with his girlfriend crying just because he was angry.

"You know what? I'm sick of your constant criticism."

"And I'm sick of walking on eggshells around you!"

He took a moment to say the next thing. The silence indicating that he was thinking it over first. Max's next words hung in the air, heavy with implication.

"Fine, maybe we should just call it quits then."

The suggestion hit you like a punch to the gut. Was this really that easy for him? He just ripped your heart out and splashed it on the ground. Your chest hurt so much and he was just sitting there? Was he not at all affected by the way you looked close to crying now?

"Fine. Enjoy being single and available," you retorted, your voice trembling with suppressed emotion.

Your boyfriend rolled his eyes looking over at you, indicating how he didn’t really think that you guys were breaking up. Though in your head, this was the last time you were ever going to look into his eyes again.

"You're too sensitive, always getting upset over nothing."

You were already on the edge, not having even processed that you guys almost- probably did break up over you trying to talk something out with him.

“Us breaking up is nothing to you?”

The weight of his words crashed over you, the tears finally spilling down your cheeks. Max's expression softened, regret flashing in his eyes, but it was too late. The damage had been done, and the fragile bond between you felt irreparably shattered.

Lewis Hamilton

How can one tell if they really are in a good relationship? Is it the security and sense of peace? Is it the frequent love confessions? Honestly, the explanation might differ person to person but one thing you always believed that made a relationship was being level headed even during arguments when emotions were running high

Needless to say, you were very glad you found solace in Lewis. A person who was prone to recognizing the impact of his words. Arguments between you two were rare, and when they did occur, Lewis prioritized finding solutions rather than escalating the conflict. His ability to remain level-headed during disagreements was a cornerstone of your relationship.

Everyone has those days though, when acting out of character seems more suitable than the usual. Moments when emotions override reason.

You were more worked up than usual. Your insides were burning with this desire to get answers because your boyfriend wasn’t there with you on the day you needed him the most.

You drove back home from your conference, dismayed despite it being a very successful session, given that your proposal got accepted as soon as you were done. You just wished your chocolate eyed man was sitting in the crowd looking at you with his signature proud smile.

After a shower, you sat on your couch to watch some show and just move on from the bittersweet day. It was an hour later, when your boyfriend showed up with a bouquet in his hand. Lewis walked over to you and leaned down to kiss your head.

“Congratulations, love," he greeted, oblivious to the storm brewing within you. “Saw it on the news, sorry I couldn’t join you. Got caught up with work.”

Usually, you would have avoided the argument till you felt like you could understand his side too. That was one of the things that helped you guys the most. You both waited to discuss stuff till you knew you were calm and ready to get what the other was saying.

“Aren’t you too busy with work lately?”

He gave a humorous huff in return, not catching on.

“You know how it is once the season starts.”

“You literally got home last night and you had to go in again early in the morning?”

“Missed me?”

He had a playful grin on his face and it killed you to spoil the good mood.

"Of course, after all you're more committed to your cars than you are to me."

The words left your mouth and you were too far gone to be caring about it at this point. Lewis has been such a passionate lover so this sudden shift was hurting you.

“What was that?” he responded, his tone sharp with surprise.

However, you were done and already up to call in early but his words stopped you on our track.

“Wow. You're so insecure, it's exhausting trying to boost your ego all the time."

Tears immediately welled up in your eyes but you didn’t turn around and with a deflated sigh, walked into your bedroom before locking the door while Lewis stood frozen in his place, not believing his own words.

It was like he was in a stance and all he could do was listen to you cry through the closed door on a day when you guys were supposed to be celebrating each other’s wins.

Carlos Sainz

Carlos was the perfect man. His mature yet easy going demeanor was exactly what you needed in a partner. You hadn't been together for that long to be at the altar but just enough to know that you were going to last.

You understood the demands on Carlos's time, with his career in the spotlight of the racing world when you decided to say yes to a date with him. Carlos was left with very less time away from all the glam, media and the track. Making it precious because of how rare it was.

You mostly accompanied him and let him drag you around to wherever he wanted once he had the break. So imagine your surprise when the only time you made some pretty important plans and he refused to tag alone.

"I can’t believe you’re saying no to this," you protested, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

“I’m not saying no to anything, Carina.” He kissed your knuckles to un-knot the strong fist you’ve made of them. “I’m just suggesting we do it some other time.”

"But this is the third time, Carlos!" You stood up, unable to contain your hurt and disappointment. “Sorry if meeting my parents is such a chore for you.”

“You’re putting words in my mouth now.” Carlos responded with a sigh, attempting to pull you into a hug, which you reluctantly accepted. “It's not about it being a chore. You know I'd do anything for you, Y/N."

"I do know that, but actions speak louder than words, Carlos. My family is important to me."

“I promise that I want to meet them. I do. It's just… the timing."

"I don't want promises, Carlos. I want actions. If you can't even make it to meet my parents, what does that say about our future?" You insisted with a heavy heart, putting distance between you two.

"You're blowing this out of proportion, Y/N." Carlos countered, frustration evident in his voice.

"Out of proportion? I just wanted you to meet my family, and you can't even do that!"

“Well, I don’t have time to waste on this! If you want to go, just go alone!” His words hung in the air, a sharp pang of hurt piercing through you.

You immediately took a step back and saw him do the same. Both of you standing there as the silence stretched, contemplating in silence what exactly the next course of action was going to be.

“Y/N, I…” He trailed off as you glared at your foot, trying to hold the tears in before one eventually slipped and fell down your cheek.

“Baby, no! Don’t cry!” He panicked about extending his hand, about to touch you but you flinched away and shook your head.

“Carlos, if you think I’ll just ignore what you said ten seconds ago then you’re very wrong.” You whispered, your voice thick and husky.

Guess you were the only one from you both expecting this relationship to last. A second later, you were clutching your bag in your hand and walking towards the exit, speaking up before Carlos could beg you once again to ‘sit and talk it out.’

“Don’t,” you interrupted, your voice barely a whisper. “Thanks for letting me know that our time together was time wasted for you.”

You walked out with his heart in your pocket, your own splashed on the floor of your apartment.

Charles Leclerc

Charles was the love of your life, the very time you saw him smile at you from across the room igniting a spark in you that shaped your future together.

He walked over to you with a pretty girl hanging onto his arm, leaving the impression that they were more than friends. Everyone around you was also convinced at the time that they were dating but Charles bluntly flirting with proved just how different the real life scenario was.

Pippa was just his ‘best friend,’ someone who throws side eyes at you every time you and your boyfriend are in close proximity to her. Despite nearly a year together, her hostility persisted, the woman was a different kind of vicious. Hell bent on draining your energy.

It was physically exhausting being around her with her catty sarcastic tone that Charles always failed to notice. It was just another one of those days and Charles dismissed your concerns as usual, leaving you frustrated.

This time it was pissing you off greatly.

"Doesn't she realize we're together?" You rolled your eyes.

Charles remained silent and that drew your brows together.

“Charles, does she not think we’re serious?”

“I don't think so. She's always been oblivious to these things.”

And honestly? That fucking hurt. It hurt to know that Charles noticed this but was still rather quick to defend her every time.

"But we've been together almost a year?”

"Baby, she just never pays attention.” His arm pulled you closer to his chest. “Or maybe she doesn't want to see it."

"Do you think she has feelings for you?”

There it was, the truth out in the open. As much as it made you want to die to say it out loud and acknowledge it, your body felt lighter while the comforting arm around your waist began to feel heavier.

"I don't know. Maybe?” Charles’ chest heaved with a deep sigh, "It's complicated?"

The heart beating in your chest stopped for a long second because of how unconcerned your boyfriend seemed right now. Was he seriously just going to accept that a person he has shared so much history with wants to steal him from you?

“It’s not that simple, darling. she's been a friend for years.”

“Yeah, well, friends don't act like that. She’s just what? Waiting for the right moment to swoop in and steal you away from me?”

Charles did not like it because the arm was moved away from you in a second and he was sitting a bit straighter now. He looked furious and ready to defend his best friend and all that was running through your head was how he would probably not do the same for you in front of her.

"That's enough, Y/N. You're being paranoid."

"Paranoid? Or realistic? Face it, Charles, you're so blind when it comes to her. It makes me feel so small compared to her!"

Charles, frustrated and defensive, ran a hand through his hair and shot back,"Don't flatter yourself thinking Pippa gives a damn about you or me."

Lando Norris

No one could deny the magnetic pull Lando had on everyone around him. It was, after all, what drew you to him in the first place. You had your biases but he broke through them all with his shameless at worst and awkward at best flirting.

However, as you stood in a quiet corner to hide from the crowd, you couldn’t find it in yourself to sympathize with Lando. He had brought you to this glamorous social event, flashes of camera and expensive drinks overflowing all around you.

You were extremely excited to accompany your boyfriend especially since he had such an amazing season but throughout the evening, Lando was constantly pulled away by enthusiastic fans and demanding media, leaving you aside feeling like an accessory rather than his partner.

Standing in a quiet corner, you couldn't help but feel a pang of envy as you watched other couples bask in each other's company. You didn’t even know where Lando was at this very second.

Then, suddenly, his arms enveloped you from behind, his lips pressing gently against your head. "I'm sorry, babe. Everyone here just wants a piece of me," he murmured, attempting to console you.

You sighed and tried to calm yourself so you wouldn't explode in front of everyone, "I understand, but I miss spending time with you."

"I promise, I'll make it up to you tonight." Lando winked, keeping the conversation light.

That was all he said before someone from your left approached him again and your safety haven spot under the stairs was crowded with journalists a second later. You rolled your eyes before walking away, with half a mind to grab a cab and leave.

It was on your way back home when your patience finally ran its course as you listened to your boyfriend go on and on about how much of a success the event was.

“Why did you even take me with you?” You interrupted, your tone tinged with hurt and watched as the smile on his face got replaced with a frown.

“What?”

“I mean… you barely clicked two pictures with me and then left me to fetch for myself? You didn’t even come stand with me for more than a minute?”

"Babe, I'm sorry, but this is part of the job."

"I get it, but it doesn't make it easier.” You felt your own body shudder because of how overwhelmed you felt. “You were there talking to everyone but me!”

Lando opened his mouth to say something but you weren’t done yet.

“They were all strangers to me and you didn’t even acknowledge this! I was standing there alone the whole time, watching others and wondering why my boyfriend wasn’t there for me!”

The weight of your words hung heavily in the air, and for a moment, there was silence. You stopped to take a breath and not start crying. Then, Lando spoke, his words struck like a knife to the heart.

“This isn’t… This isn’t about you. Why are you always making it about you?”

Your body froze after that and your mind went blank. You didn’t care that the tears were running out of your eyes or that apologies were falling from his mouth. His own eyes were welling up because he knew.

He knew what he said was unacceptable.

You were so zoned out that as soon as the car stopped, you got out of the car. Thankful to catch the glimpse of yellow among the traffic before you hailed a taxi, the distance between you and Lando growing with each passing moment.

He attempted to hold your arm, his own tears falling down his face. You just wanted to put your point across but with his reaction, you were certain you guys were done for.

“I guess I expected a little too much from you, Lando.”

With a heavy heart, you walked away, knowing that sometimes love wasn't enough to mend the fractures in a relationship.

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[wilwheaton]

When I was a kid, and I was 14, 15, 16 years old, my home life was terrible. I was really sad and abused and having a terrible time at home, and the only place I was happy and felt safe was at work. I went to work and I loved my Star Trek family, and they loved me and I loved being there. And then the work we did, people were mean to me about it. People who didn't know me, who I didn't know, got on what was Usenet at the time, and they were awful. They wrote angry letters to Starlog, and they were really mean to me. They were cruel to this child at conventions and stuff in ways that would never fly today. I think that a narrative took hold — “Nobody likes Wesley.” That is empirically false. That is completely unsupported by decades of data. The truth is the kids who Wesley was meant to bring into Star Trek loved him! A lot of them grew up to work on Star Trek, right? [Laughs] What happened is, at that time, the kids who loved it weren't writing letters, they were not using Usenet. They didn't even have modems! They were just loving the show. It took me 30 fucking years to hear them and meet them and know, “Hey, buddy, you're not the person your dad said you were. You're not the person that those fans made you believe you were. You're that guy, and he is you, and there's a bunch of you together. You inspired a generation of kids.” I am so relieved and happy for my younger self. I wish I could just, like, pop through time real quick and just whisper in my ear, “Buddy, I know how much it hurts right now, but I promise you there's a day coming where it's really okay. You're not even gonna remember this.”

Wil Wheaton Reacts to the Positive Reception of Wesley Crusher's Star Trek Return: "It’s 35 Years Overdue"

[roturo]

HERE ME OUT

Toji, Gojo, Megumi (choose one, i dont mind) realize spanking isnt doing much for a punishment anymore (youre enjoying it too much) so they come up with other ideas

ex. watching you get fucked by a fuck machine in a mirror while u cum over n over begging for the real thing, seeing how many sex toys you can get away with wearing in public, switching between making you cum over n over to not letting you cum every hour or something ALL NIGHT, etc

BRAT - JJK MEN

warnings: smut, overstimulation, semi-public sex, edging, ice cube play, cunnilingus, slapping, pussy slapping, degradation, spanking, oral (f & m receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, dumbification, sub-space, dom/sub dynamics, humiliation, bondage, bdsm, handcuffing, use of vibrator, throat bump, tummy bump (idk how it's called), bratty reader, objectification, jealousy, mirror sex, breeding, unprotected sex, penis in vagina, there's more warnings but idk.

Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Toji Fushiguro, Megumi Fushiguro & Sukuna.

Gojo Satoru

He first realized spanking you as a punishment isn’t working when your bratty remarks started becoming more usual after 3 or 4 spanks, you moaned at the feeling and teased him even more for him to do it again. 

To say he’s angry at this is an understatement, because he hates brats. Hates not having control, and your behavior being the last drop of breaking was all he needed to give you a real punishment.

You thought he was being mean? Oh no, he was being nice right now.

You pull on his white locks and the only answer you receive is a disapproval grunt from him. You sob, so overwhelmed and tired, but you can't deny how good his tongue feels on your naked core.

The feeling of his tongue abusing your overstimulated hole had you feeling dizzy, but the vibratory he had on his hand teasing your swollen nub made the pleasure more unbearable than before. 

He already got two orgasms out of you, one with his fingers patting gently your sweet spot and the other by sucking avidly on your clit while he fingered you and used the vibratory to tease your other hole. You don't remember which one came first and maybe they both happened at the same time. You don't really know.

And the worst thing of all? You were in a public space. 

You never noticed he brought a vibrator, it's like he knew you were looking for this, for a punishment, but he also knows you don’t see spanking as a punishment anymore, so he had a change of plans.

You were a little bit too flirty with Nanami tonight, he couldn’t take it, so when he saw you going to the restroom he didn’t care it seemed so obvious, he followed you behind.

Your pleas for him to stop went to deaf ears, not taking care in the world and not having any hint of stopping this.

You already had your makeup messed up, you’re sure about that, tears coming out your eyes, smudged lipstick, messy hair, he made sure for everyone to know he fucked the soul out of you. Making visible hickeys on your neck, he wanted to humiliate you.

And if like that wasn’t enough, once he finished he left the vibratory inside of you, so when the both of you walked out, not only everyone knew you two fucked at the restroom, but they’ll know you’re struggling to even talk or walk.

“Ah-ah, you acted like a bitch, i’ll treat you like one.”

Geto Suguru

This man is RUTHLESS. He would tie up your arms and legs on the bed so you can’t move. Using an ice cube toy tease your body, saying is “what you deserve for being too fucking horny all the time” 

The vibrator inside of you wouldn’t stop at any moment, making you come with no break, his tongue playing with your nipples, licking your tummy while going down on you till he found your clit. Grabbing another ice cube and tracing near your cunt.

He would spit on you or slap your pussy every time you told him to stop, making you even a messier moaning mess. His words would be hard too, not accepting any type of bratty behavior coming out of you, it’s what you earned.

He was angry, he couldn’t contain watching you dance with another man, knowing he was right there. You aren’t anything serious, yet, but he makes sure for everyone to know you’re his.

You felt dizzy, coming into subspace once he finished giving you your last orgasm of the night. Needing some time more to adapt to your surroundings. He made sure to cum in your stomach once he felt he couldn’t contain it anymore, and that’s when he knew he had to stop.

Because this man has self-control, he wanted to prove a point and he made sure of doing it. Treating you like a slut. Fucking you like a slut.  You’re no one’s slut but his.

Toji Fushiguro

He’s the opposite of Geto, he’ll make sure to have all the pleasure for himself and just him.

You were about to cum? too bad, because he’s the one coming, not you. He would even edge himself just to make sure you don’t come. Using you like a fucking toy in front of his mirror, pinching your nipples and biting your shoulders.

Your pussy would be so full of him you could even feel a small bump in your tummy, filling you up with his cum, the slickness of it making it easier for him to thrust into you.

Every time he touched your g-spot with his cock, you were almost screaming, begging for release. Every time you close your eyes he would grab you by the chin, threaten to not let you cum for 30 minutes more if you close them again.

Wetting his fingers with your liquids and mostly his cum just to insert them in your mouth. “You want to feel that too, huh? You want to taste yourself too?”

Nodding your head like you could, trying to say yes but every time you opened up your mouth a moan came out of it, just being able to call his name and little ‘please’

But he just laughed at how fucked up you look right now, continuing thrusting into you, one of his arms wrapping around your waist while the other one grabs you by your throat, making sure you’re looking at the two of you in the mirror.

Depending on how good you behave, he’ll decide if he’ll let you cum or not. You might spend the whole night without coming until the next time both of you have sex, thrusting you to make this punishment again if you cum without him.

Megumi Fushiguro (My man, my husband, my boyfriend)

He wouldn’t show he was angry at you, noticing you were enjoying the slaps on your ass, he just suddenly stopped. Analyzing what he should do.

Your smirk disappeared once you heard the silence, not feeling his hands on your ass. Looking through your shoulder, you found a blank face megumi looking at you

You were laying down on his lap and the couch, your ass displayed for him while he manhandled you. You were about to ask what’s wrong until he pulled you by the hair looking at your face before he switched positions, you’re now sitting on his lap.

With his cursed energy, some snakes came from the shadows and made sure he grabbed you by the wrists, putting them on your back so the snakes could simulate a handcuff.

Megumi is a silent man.

But this silence felt really different from the others, his dark blue orbs seemed almost black, his gaze showing no emotion other than seriousness.

He grabbed you by the armpits and positioned you on the floor, kneeled in front of him, while you watched him unbuckle his pants.

Lowering down enough his pants and boxers so his cock was displayed, pinkish tip with a small pearl coming out of his tip, a vein coming from the base on the left side, and slightly curved.

“Open your dirty mouth slut.” 

You did as he said, and he wasted no time in inserting his cock inside of you, giving you and your poor throat no time to adjust while he bobbed your head.

Your nose touching his pelvic bone, his free hand traveled down your face until he felt your throat, a small bump appearing and disappearing each time he thrusted inside of you.

A smirk appeared on his face while he groaned and left small whimpers at the pleasure of using you like a cum dump.

He has a lot of stamina, he doesn’t give up for nothing, not on a fight, not on smacking your bratty face out of your sight.

He felt that tingly feeling on his stomach, ready to cum, with just some more thrusts he dumped strips of cum inside your mouth.

You coughed a little, sore throat, trying to regain your posture when his cock left your mouth, it was still rock hard.

“Don’t have big hopes i’m going to fuck your pussy, i’ll continue fucking your mouth till you can’t even speak.”

Sukuna.

He has you sitting on his lap while he’s on his throne. Different mouths coming out of his body, one on his pelvic bone playing with your nub while he bounces you on both of his cocks. Feeling so full of him, you swear you couldn’t even talk, moans and whimpers only coming out of you.

His head was resting in one of his hands, while two of them were gripping your tits with a mouth on them while they sucked your nipples.

“You fucking brat.”

He would sometimes groan everytime your cunt clenched around his cock, or when he felt one of your holes a little bit too tight.

He had you cumming for him for 5 times now, not stopping his movements any time soon, bouncing you up and down on his cocks while he admired your body and face.

Tears staining your blushed cheeks, sweat covering your whole body, purple marks adorning your body and a bite on your shoulder from the first time he came.  Your sore and sensitive nipples bouncing in front of him, little begs and pleads coming out of you.

And all because you didn’t want to take your punishment like a good girl and challenged him with your bratty behavior.

You looked fucked up, not any kind of thinking behind your eyes, not even words to say, you were completely defenseless, used like a toy.

“If only you behaved like a good girl I would treat you like one. But right now you’re just my little whore to play with. I can stay here all night watching you lose your sanity and body control to me.”

[hottestvirgin]

𝐈 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆.. | 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍

he might have just discovered another side of you and to be honest.. it turned him on

warnings(17+). smut, meandom!sunghoon, unprotected sex, name calling (bitch), creampie, backshots, dumbification

your best friend had just found your secret blog on tumblr where you wrote about all of the sexual desires you’ve had for him.

you had thought that you made the blog so discreetly, faking your own identity and who you were writing about. you had thought. nevertheless, sunghoon managed to find out that the blog belonged to you.

and it was unhinged; you wrote about how you would imagine him leaving wet kisses all over your aching body while he’s balls deep in you. or how you couldn’t even stare at him without thinking about fucking him.

how soaking wet your panties would be every time he would come over to chill. or how when you’d watch a movie with him, you would spend the whole time thinking of dirty scenarios: shower sex, angry sex, make up sex, floor sex, wall sex, pool sex, sex, sex, sex.

and you documented it all.. because why not? you wanted all your girlies who interacted with you to know how you felt about that man. you had no shame because of course he would never find the blog.

but damn, were you wrong.

it made your blood run cold when your “secret” username slipped past his lips. all the air in your lungs were stolen from that simple sentence.

“so that’s not you?” he cocked his head with that stupid know–it-all look on his face.

how.. when..?

“i read the stuff you wrote about me and it’s…” he paused, trying to find the right word, “wild.”

“it wasn’t even about you.” you argued, trying to act as nonchalant as fucking possible. it wasn’t working. sunghoon could see right through you.

“so the S guy you write about isn’t me?” he questioned.

well.. in your defense you were one-hundred percent sure that he or anyone else wouldn’t figure out it was about sunghoon just by the first letter of his name.

“you have a really big ego. what if i was talking about sunoo?” you interrogated, trying to flee from the scene but he took a step forward, firmly gripping your arm.

“d’you really think i’m dumb?” he furrowed his eyebrows and licked his lips as he spoke, “hm?”

“i-i said it wasn’t about you.” you said again. his grip on your arm had your stomach churning in arousal. your heart was racing, and you were certain that he could feel your pulse through your arm.

sunghoon tsked at your lie, “cool.”

maybe it was manifestation, or just pure luck. but that same arm was yanked behind you as sunghoon plunged his hips into you, splitting you open on his thick cock.

he cooed at your cute attempts at trying to squirm away from his staggering thrusts. “none of that— quit trying to run from it..” sunghoon grunted, voice trembling from how soft your walls were around his cock, “you was talking all that on your blog and can’t even take it? tsk.”

you hummed at his word, spit pooling in your mouth from being fucked so good that you couldn’t even remember to swallow anymore. “m’ s.. sorry, fffuck!” you squealed, but it didn’t stop his harsh thrusts.

he pushed your head into the mattress, treating your aching body like his personal fleshlight, “you’re such a dirty bitch. made to be fucked, huh?” sunghoon groaned at how wet you were and the sounds your cunt made. it was so filthy and only got him throbbing more and more inside of you.

he shoved two slender fingers into your mouth, sliding them down your throat as drool spilled down your chin, fingers digging into the mattress beneath you. you remembered writing about how much you’d love for this to happen. and it happened.

clenching hard around him, sunghoon pulled his fingers from your throat and wiped your own salvia across your face. “nasty girl.” he grunted, breathless.

you delivered a guttural scream when he smacked your ass, repeatedly. your thighs quivered as you tried to escape the pain, only to be forced still by his large hands. “c-can’t, i can’t! please..” you wined, screaming into the bedsheets.

“this is what you wanted, right?” sunghoon teased, referring back to your blog, “you greedy bitch, stay still and take this dick.”

you’re sooo full of dick that you can’t breathe properly. you were certain that you were taking all of him, but you can feel him sinking deeper and deeper into you as time passed. “i-i love your cock.. h-hoonie. s’ good, l-let me cum.” you whined.

“shiiit, go ahead.”

it took a long, hasty few seconds before you were convulsing around him and coming hard, harder than you’ve ever came in your life; everything cut to white noise and clear liquid spilled out of your cunt as his hips shuttered against you.

“that’s right.. keep squirting that filthy pussy for me.” sunghoon moaned. then he pulsed inside of you and shot his thick, sticky load into your cunt, painting your walls with his fluids.

it was like every muscle in your body had stopped working, body falling limp onto the bed. sunghoon stilled above you, pulling out to watch his cum flood and drip out of you.

“next time when you lend me your laptop, close your damn tabs Y/N.”

[darnell-la]

𝗜'𝗟𝗟 𝗚𝗜𝗩𝗘 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗧 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗪𝗔𝗡𝗧

pairing: old man!logan howlett x young female!reader

warnings: staring, rude people in public, Logan with no emotion, begging, oral (male receiving), riding, doggy, neck kisses, slightly forced cream pie, multiple orgasm, moans from both sides, very rough sex, angry animalistic Logan, etc.

request: Hi! I love your work, Could I request Oldman!Logan x young fem!reader (22 years) that has a baby fever and really wants to have Logan's baby (also to shut the mouths of those who make fun of her dating an older man), she decides to prepare a surprise for him so that he can get her pregnant soon. Reader is needy and Logan is rude.

note: Logan as always is mean and an over-thinker, but he can’t seem to not give what his perfect girl wants. A breeding session.

teaser - Logan gets kinda subby in here. can’t stop cumming…

———

How do you guys feel about an X-Men story with the reader? Logan is rude Logan at first, then slowly shows small affection towards the reader. Jealousy and things of that sort. They soon hit it off, and after Logan starts acting rude again because he’s scared of the love he grew for her. It’ll be a long story, but something to read at night. ALL ON WATTPAD! Comment below, please!

———

“Stop gettin’ in your feelings, Bub. They ain’t gon stop,” Logan said, talking about the people looking their way in the expensive restaurant Logan decided to take y/n out at.

“But, isn’t it rude? Why do they care so much about who I’m with? Or who you’re with!?” Y/n tried whispering and keeping her facial expressions normal. She didn’t want them to know she was bothered, but it wasn’t hard to see.

“Just relax, Bub — Ain’t nun gon happen with a few eyes lookin’ attcha,” Logan had picked up the menu to continue searching through what he wanted to order for himself and his girl.

“Are you two ready, or shall you get more time?” The man asked in an accent that made Logan roll his eyes. “Just appetizers for now. Gonna get the cheese bites with a side of marinara sauce, and two Caesar salads,”

“And drinks?” The waiter asked as he looked at y/n, wanting to hear the young lady talk as he was done listening to the older grumpy man.

“I’ll have a whiskey, no ice, and she’ll have water for now,” Logan ordered for her, eyes still on the menu as y/n faked a bright smile on her face so at least one of them looked like they wanted to be here.

“Are you sure that’s all you want? We have a lot of cocktails. Even mocktails if you’re not feeling alcohol going lady,” Logan laughed at the small sign the water gave. They always go.

“She’s fine, trust me,” Logan said, leaning his girl from head to toe. He knew her like a book. He knew her life at the back of his hands. He loved showing it too.

“I’m fine, thank you,” y/n smiled at the man as he looked at Logan. He wanted to speak, say something, but he couldn’t. Logan wasn’t actually doing anything to make the man complain.

“Get a load of that guy,” y/n rolled her eyes as he walked off. “Yep,” Logan said, not really caring. “Why are you always so calm? He was disrespecting us. Disrespecting you,” y/n said, confused about why the man never cared.

“I’m still alive, aren’t I? You’re making it seem like that fetus of a man shot at me,” y/n rolled her eyes and sat back as she crossed her arms, upset at the lack of care Logan had. She felt like she was the only one who cared about things.

Throughout the night, Logan made small talk with y/n to ease her mood. She tried to stay upset at the man, but the hand grabs, foot nudges, and complements made her melt

“Said you had a surprise for me, Bub?” Logan asked as the two made it into the hotel that Logan bought for the night. The top floor had a good view, a view he knew y/n would love.

“Yeah, but I thought we were going back to the house,” y/n pouted, a bit tipsy as Logan carried her through the door. “I know, and I apologize, princess. If you left it at the house, you can give it to me tomorrow. Or I can go get it now?” Logan suggested.

“No, no, you don’t have to do all that. I-I got it. I got it,” Y/n said as she kicked her heels off and walked towards the bed with Logan.

He had a few drinks, but that never affected him. She prayed it would tonight so she wouldn’t have to work hard, but she’ll deal with it.

Y/n knows Logan’s a hard one to crack, but the man loved her. He’s so anything for her, so a long session of begging or anything of that sort, would make him crack. Only for her.

“Get comfortable — I’ll be back,” Y/n said as she stumbled to the bathroom. Logan chuckled as he got undressed, already knowing y/n wanted to have sex. She always does, and he never says no.

Y/n didn’t take long to get stripped and walk out of the bathroom slowly. The lights were dim, and Logan sat up against the headboard of the bed, legs spread and waiting for his perfect girl.

“I-I know you’re against it, and I know you always shut me down, but tonight is special. I-I really, really want you tonight,” Y/n said, slowly crawling on the bed as Logan’s chest rose.

“You always get me, Bub, so what’s there to beg about?” Logan said as he rubbed his thighs. “I want you to cum in me,” y/n looked at him with those eyes he could barely say no to.

“Y/n, don’t start tonight. Ian tryna ruin the night,” Logan has rolled his eyes with a sigh. “Baby, please,” y/n begged, trailing her hands up his legs until they were mid-thigh.

“Keep beggin’ for that shit, and ima turn around and go to sleep,” Logan warned the girl, but she ignored him and put his cock in her hand. “C’mon, daddy, please,” y/n said, bringing out the word she used in once in a blue moon.

“Nah uh, get off, y/n. I told you what was gonna happen-“ Before he could finish, y/n wrapped her wet mouth around his tip, sucking down hard as her tongue moved up and down his slit.

“F-Fuck,” Logan’s legs shook as he gripped the sheets. “Y/n, remove your fucking mouth,” Logan demanded, but she ignored him, looking into his angry dark eyes as she slipped down onto his cock, taking all the inches in that she could.

“Y-Y/n!” The man groaned loudly, hips bucking as his hand went to her hair, pulling her up to get her off, but not strong enough. He was physically stronger than her, so she knew if he wanted her off, he’d get her off.

“Fuckin- Fuck, you’re so fuckin’ bad,” Logan said as his other hand cupped her cheek. “But you take my cock so well,” Logan admitted with a chuckle as he slowly began moving her head at a pace he wanted her to suck in.

“Always so fuckin’ needy — Needy little slut can’t just enjoy my cock. Always needs my cum to satisfy her,” Logan said, now moving his hips, allowing his cock to thrust up into her throat.

“That’s it, kid — Fuckin’ suck me up since you want it so bad. You ain’t gettin’ it in that cunt. You ain’t earn it yet,” Logan said, watching spit spill from her mouth.

Y/n did her best to look up and into his eyes. Her was glossy, streaming tears as he grew dark. He couldn’t hold back his deep groan at the sight of her taking his cock like this.

“Don’t fuckin’ look at me like that,” Logan said, getting angry at her. He hated how bad she was, but loved that she’d do anything to get what she wanted from him.

“Fuckin’ brat,” Logan growled, snapping his hips faster to make her gag and cough on his cock. Maybe if she was too busy trying to focus on taking him, she’d stop silently begging for him to breed her.

It’s not like the man didn’t want to. He was just insecure. Yeah, he and y/n had been dating for a while, but the people roaming about are right. At least that’s what he thought at the time.

What if he is too old for her? He’d basically be baby-trapping her if he gave her what she wanted. He swore she’d regret it.

He forced himself to think that way, but every time y/n took his cock, rather that was with her mouth, cunt, ass, or anything, she’s beg him to breed her. Something in him knew she wanted it, but the other part held him back.

“Fuck, y/n, stop it! Stop fucking looking at me like that!” Logan shouted at the girl, an animalistic tone slipping out as he fucked her throat.

Y/n didn’t stop. She continued, whether her eyes could barely stay on him or not, she kept looking up at him, begging him to breed her.

“Y/n, I can’t — I fucking can’t,” the man had thrown his head back, whining as he felt himself near. He’s me we did that before, but him trying to yell her no but also seeing her beg, was too much for him. He was overstimulated by his thoughts.

Y/n slapped Logan’s hands off of him and quickly crawled onto him. She grabbed his cock and aligned herself with him before sitting down.

The moan that escaped her mouth made his eyes widen. “F-Fuck, kid, stop it!” Logan said, but his hands came to her waist and kept her in place. She tried to bounce, but he didn’t even allow her to do that.

Logan’s feel curled as his fingernails dug into her sides, causing her to feel in pain, but also pleasure. “Do it, daddy, please,” was all had to say on his cock before he jumped over the edge.

Logan’s mouth parted as his whole body stuttered. No noises came from his mouth for a second as y/n felt his warm seed coat her walls.

“Yes! Yes, daddy, yes!” Y/n cried out with happiness before she buried her face into the crook of his neck, sucking into his skin hard. That pulled all of his groans and moans out.

Logan’s hands wrapped around the girl's back and waist, pulling her into his body as she grinned against his pelvis, letting her swollen bud feel all the affection it needed.

“Please, more, Logan. Please. Please,” y/n continued rubbing against him as her whole body felt numb. She was going to cum, and Logan knew it. Damn her.

“Fuck, kid — F-Fuck,” Logan’s legs kicked as he tried keeping himself in, but he couldn’t. She squeezed him so hard for him not to do what she’d been begging for, for the longest.

“Y/n,” Logan’s voice cracked as his nails broke the skin on the young girl's back and waist. “Yes, yes!” Y/n almost cried as her body kicked up and she came, sucking the man too hard. To damn hard.

Logan’s mouth parted once again as his eyes crossed, feeling too much pleasure as he spilled into y/n for the second time and took the love bites y/n gave him on his neck.

Logan was pissed. He was so damn pissed at y/n for not listening to him. He wanted to punish her, but how? How could he after he bred her? He wouldn’t be able to pull out. And fuck a condom. He was fucked. He broke the promise he kept to himself. He really fucking loves her to let her do this to him.

“You’re so fuckin’ bad, y/n,” Logan breathed out into y/n’s ear, alarming her. He wasn’t relaxed. He was angry. “You like gettin’ what you want?” The man asked as he slowly lifted y/n off of him. She was being held in the air.

“Then ima give you what you fucking want,” before y/n knew what he meant, the man flipped the two, allowing him to hover over her.

“S-Sorry, I just- I really needed you. I-I love you so much, and I-I — I want you to give me a baby. I-If you don’t want it, I-I’ll just take the plan b tomorrow. I promise,” y/n couldn’t stop stuttering.

She felt a slight fear. She knew how Logan got, and now that he’d already come in her, he’d be worse.

“Fuck that plan b. You wanna baby? Then deal with the fucking consequences,” Logan turned y/n around and forced her onto her hands and knees. Before she could process anything, he plunged into her.

“Fuuck!” Y/n screamed at the new angle and the hard thrust. “Shut the fuck up, and take it,” the man groaned as a hand came down on her ass. “Take my fuckin’ kid, since you wasn’t em so damn bad,” he added.

Y/n cried into the sheets, thinking he couldn’t fuck her hard until his claws came out. He’d never done this before, but she knew what he was up to.

The man’s claws punched into the wall right in front of the two. He gripped tightly, making sure he wasn’t going anywhere before he pounded her into the mattress.

The young girl's neck and back belt pain. He was breaking her and didn’t care. She wanted this.

“Lot,” y/n whined, not being able to say what she had to say. She was beyond fucked. “Don’t worry, Bub — You’re gonna make a damn good mom,” Logan said, making sure she knew he was up for this.

Y/n slightly smiled as her cunt quivered, finally letting out another orgasm as her eyes closed. “S-So good,” she said as she slipped away. “I know, baby — I know,” the man growled.

Logan never stopped his thrust, making sure she’d feel the soreness when she woke up. And the loads he was going to leave in her.

[notafunkiller]

tying you to me

Summary: When your boss, Bucky, apologizes for being rude to you once again, things take an unexpected turn.

Pairing: boss!Bucky Barnes x marketing director!female reader

Warnings: 18+, teasing, dirty talk, pet names, sir kìnk, breasts insecurity, protected séx, bøndage, a little degrading, praising kìnk, language, implied aftercare, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 5.2K

Bucky Barnes masterlist

A/N: I really hope you'll enjoy it!

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

He’s well aware he went too far. He noticed right when he finished talking and took a look at you, but what is said is said. And the last thing he wants is Steve annoying him about the meeting.

“I don’t question the way you deal with employees, do I?” Bucky snaps, tired and really wanting this day to be over.

“What has gotten into you? What bothers you so much about her? I just don’t get it.”

Bucky sighs deeply, rubbing his hand across his face in frustration. “It’s not just one thing,” he mutters, his tone weighed down by a mix of tiredness and anger. “It’s a culmination... She’s fucking impossible.”

“Bucky, I get you’re upset, but taking it out on her isn’t fair. She did an incredible job, but you didn’t even listen to her. What’s really going on here?”

“I feel like she’s not seeing the bigger picture. We disagree constantly, and it’s making things difficult. Maybe I overreacted, but it’s been building up for a while.” Bucky leans in as he speaks, with his shoulders slightly hunched forward. His voice carries an edge that Steve notices immediately. He knows there is something about you that affects Bucky, but he can’t quite put the finger on it. Ever since he hired you, Bucky’s been angry with him too, which has happened only two or three times over twenty years of friendship.

“I can see this is really affecting you, Buck. If there’s something personal or if my decision to bring her on board has caused you any discomfort, talk to me. I just wanna make sure everything’s okay between us.”

He leans back a bit, surprised. “Personal? No, it’s not… it’s not about that,” he stammers, searching for the right words. There’s a subtle shake of his head, almost as if he’s trying to dismiss his own thoughts. He wishes there was a personal connection so badly that it messes with his head…

“Then what is it? I didn’t mean to jump to conclusions. I know you hate when things are not under your control, but I made the right call to hire her. And you were really unfair to her, look,” Steve waves around as he speaks, and Bucky turns to look at you through the glass door. You’re still there… working. “She’s not just smart and creative, but also ambitious and hard working. I know how much you value this as well.”

“I didn’t mean to come off unfairly. It’s just…” Bucky sighs, moving to shift his gaze back to Steve. “Our ways clash, and it’s hard to manage it. I value her skills, but finding a middle ground seems impossible sometimes.”

“Look, Buck, I understand it’s tough, but it’s important to listen to her ideas too,” Steve responds, his voice carrying a firm yet empathetic tone. “Today? You didn’t even look over the outlines. Try giving her ideas a chance or just suggest new things without trashing all of her work. You’d be offended too.” He pauses, and Bucky’s focus is back on you. His eyes narrow slightly, studying your determined expression as you delve into whatever you are working on that he dismissed today. And for a few seconds a pang of guilt flickers across Bucky’s expression, which Steve immediately catches. He clears his throat and continues. “I understand it’s not easy to step back and apologize, but it’s not about who’s right or wrong. And, to be honest, you were wrong anyway. It’s about ensuring a healthy workplace.”

“I appreciate your perspective, Steve,” he begins with a calm voice. “But I don’t think it would make a difference.” His gaze briefly flickers towards you before returning to Steve.

“Trust me, it’ll make a difference, not just for her but also for the team. Give it a shot.” Steve smiles, patting him on the chest before standing up. “I’ll leave you to it. It’s so late.”

“Alright, lovebird, off to your nest?” Bucky teases. “Natasha’s waiting for her captain. Better not keep her waiting too long.”

Steve chuckles. “Well, someone’s got to keep the romance alive around here. Good night.”

“Night...”

*

The audacity of this man is unbelievable. After all that shit he pulled on you today, he has the nerve to order your food! He’s the reason why you’re still working at eight pm instead of lying on your couch.

You are so close to crying out of exhaustion and anger, but you won’t give him this satisfaction. And you won’t eat his food.

“Are you seriously gonna starve yourself?”

“I’m not hungry,” you retort, your voice sharper than intended as you give him an annoyed look.

Bucky’s expression softens instantly, a hint of concern flickering across his face. “Come on, you’ve been working the whole day” he insists, trying to reason with you. “You need to eat something. Did you even drink water?”

You shake your head weakly.

“Look, I-”

“If you don’t like Pizza, I can grab you something else.”

You raise your hand, waving around. “I appreciate it, but I’m fine. I’ll eat something when I get home.”

The idea of accepting anything from him like this feels wrong. You don’t want his pity.

“Stubborn as ever,” he sighs, muttering under his breath, and you look up to meet his gaze. For a moment, there’s a silent understanding between you, an unspoken acknowledgment of the tension lingering from earlier.

What did Steve tell him to make him actually try to have a decent conversation?

“Look, sir,” you say through your teeth. “I don’t want your pity. I appreciate your concern, but I’ll manage. I just need to finish this.”

“This isn’t about pity.” His tone is firm. “You’re exhausted, and I’m just trying to help.”

“I said I’m fine. I’ll be done with these.” You lift your papers to emphasize. “And get home.”

“You’re not fine!” he shoots, surprising you. “And you’re too stubborn to see it!”

You’ve never seen him screaming before. Even when he is angry, he’s always the silent type.

“Don’t you dare!” you fire back all of a sudden, unable to hold back. If you’ll get fired, at least you should speak your mind properly. You can’t take more of this. He can’t step on you without consequences. “You are the reason why I am here anyway. Don’t play the concerned hero, just take your food and eat it...” You pause for a second before sarcastically adding. “Sir.”

“This isn’t just about the food, is it?” Bucky’s voice softens slightly despite his impulse to raise his voice again. “It’s about the meeting.” You keep looking him in the eyes, not denying the obvious. Of course it’s about the meeting. “Look, I am sorry, I know I should have handled things differently, but I’m trying to make it right.”

“You think a wannabe apology and food make everything okay?” You ask bitterly, standing up. “You humiliated me, Mr. Barnes. You didn’t even hear me out, you didn’t even listen to my ideas, what the team and I managed to do in the last few months. You disrespected them too! And I don’t get it...” You hate how tall he is. How perfectly his suit is ironed. How nice his hair is. Fuck him! “Ever since Steve hired me, you refused to communicate with me. It’s like you have decided who I am and what I’m worth without even giving me a chance, without acknowledging my efforts and results!”

“That’s not true,” he begins, trying to defend himself even though you both know you are right. “I made a mistake, I admit it, but I want to fix it.”

“A mistake?” You laugh humorlessly. “For months you’ve been treating me like shit, excuse my language.” You shake your head. “Actually I don’t. You should be the one apologizing! You look at me as if I am a scum, as if my presence bothers you. I come to you only when I have to, and you act as if I want to waste your time. Well, I wasted mine for months in this company. With you!”

Bucky snaps, feeling the frustration taking over him. “My decisions are based on what’s best for the company. It’s nothing pers-”

“That’s just a bullshit excuse to maintain the status quo!” you interrupt him, the tension escalating. You don’t care about this job anymore. Whatever will happen, let it happen. “You’re a stuck-up asshole, resistant to change and blind to new perspectives! My perspectives only, to be clear.” You see him clenching his jaw before his left hand covers his jaw. Oh, he’s angry. Good! “And it’s not even out of misogyny since you get along just fine with Shuri. So what is it? What is it, Mr. Barnes, that makes you hate me?”

“It’s not about you,” he insists, his voice strained with the effort to keep calm. “It’s about maintaining stability. It’s about-”

“Bullshit! You’re threatened by anything that challenges your authority! You’re just frustrated and insecure. You’re scared that someone else can do better things in their own way. You’re just a tyrant! I don’t know how Steve is friends with you. He’s such a great man, and you’re a dick.” You laugh. “God, I wanted to tell you this for so long. And if it’s not clear, I fucking quit!”

You’d smile widely if it wasn’t for his snort.

“You’re not quitting,” Bucky’s voice is low, but you still hear it.

He doesn’t believe you, clearly. But he will because you’re not joking or backing off. You can’t take another humiliation session, especially when you did nothing to deserve it. As much as you admire Bucky’s intelligence and company policies, he’s a fucking douchebag. To you.

“Watch me,” you retort instantly. Your heart starts racing as he takes another step toward you. He’s so close that you only need to get on your tiptoes to kiss him.

“No, you’re not quitting. And you’re not walking out that door until we settle this.”

“Settle what, Barnes? Your ego?” You try to maintain your composure, but the closeness makes it hard for you to focus.

He sighs, and your eyes find his lips again. They are pink and wet from his tongue. If only he was less of an asshole and not your boss, maybe you would...

“This isn’t just about me and my authority.”

“Then what is it?” You're confused.

“It’s about you challenging everything I’ve built here,” he admits, looking straight into your eyes.

“And you can’t handle that?” Your voice is filled with sarcasm, but for once he doesn’t focus on that.

“It’s not that simple.”

“Then make it simple, Mr. Barnes.”

“I... I don’t know how to do this.”

“Do what?”

“Deal with this... with you.”

“Deal with me?” You puff. “You’re insufferable, I am the one who has to deal with you and your constant checkups. With your: that’s not good enough, that needs to be changed, do this, do that over and over again.” You mimic his patronizing tone. “You don’t give me real suggestions-”

“I just... struggle with change.”

“And I’m the change you can’t handle?” The question hangs heavy between you, and his eyes drop to your lips this time.

“You challenge me,” he admits, his voice barely above the whisper. “You and your crazy ambition, your undying dedication, and your incredible ideas...” He pauses just to take a deep breath. “I feel like I’m suffocating every time I look at you.”

“Suffocating?” You roll your eyes. “How am I suffocating you? Just because I have an opinion and give you arguments-”

“I am fucking attracted to you, woman!”

You shake your head. He cannot just pull this lie and expect you to fall for it as if you are dumb. “Yeah, sure. Can you be a man for once and fucking take responsibility for your real thoughts and feelings? Just admit that you hate me!”

“Jesus Christ, are you that blind? For a woman so perceptive, you surely don’t see what’s right in front of you.”

You feel the anger take over your whole body. “Fuck you!”

“I wish! This is the whole point, the whole fucking point...”

“You want to fuck me for real?” You gasp, surprised and take a step back so you can look at him properly. He doesn’t seem to be joking.

“Deadly serious. And no matter how many times I tried to push this desire away, it just doesn’t work. You suffocate me. I imagine taking you all over my desk and couch. I imagine so many things, and I cannot focus.”

Before you can stop yourself, you slap him on the face lightly. Your palm is itching and gets red instantly, but you don’t care. As much as the info makes you happy, the context makes you super angry.

“So my team and I had to be humiliated just because you’re mad you want to get laid?”

“W-what? No!”

“No?”

“No. I deserved that,” he says referring to the slap. “But I meant what I said earlier. These are separate things.”

You cover your face with both your hands, not knowing what to say. What can you say? What should you think?

“I am sorry,” he sighs, and you hear him slowly walking away from you. “I should have said nothing. I am sorry. Please, don’t quit. You won’t have to work with me or even see me after this. Steve can take over, and you like him. I apologize not only for this, but also for my lack of… skills. I should have been more open to your ideas. And about tonight, I will wait for the HR email. I am sorry once again.”

Your head is spinning with all the things he’s just said. He wants you, but he’s also a bitch who cannot handle other opinions.

But you also want him. And you’ve wanted him despite how annoying he was. And he’s genuinely apologizing.

“Fuck it,” you whisper before going straight to him, pulling him by his tie toward you to kiss him.

He doesn’t hesitate at all, bringing his hands to your ass so you can feel each other better as he deepens the kiss instantly.

You shamelessly try to thrust your hips up a little as you let go of his tie, and his tongue feels like heaven in your mouth. His moan is low and hot, but you don’t let him breathe more than a second before you kiss him again, making sure to grab his hair and pull with force.

“Fuck me, Barnes. Fuck me right fucking now.”

He groans in your mouth once again, and you shiver.

“Jesus Christ, I’m gonna fuck you so well you won’t remember or think about anything else but my cock for days.” You instantly drop your hands so you can reach for his pants. Unbuckling them isn’t hard, but the zipper gets a little stuck, so Bucky has to finish the job for you.

“God, James,” you moan at the sight. “You’re leaking.”

He’s not embarrassed by this at all. On the opposite, he grabs his briefs too and pulls them down, letting them fall along with his pants.

You’re staring, but you can’t help it. His cock is so hard, and it even twitches as he grabs it to show it to you. It’s so thick.

“For you. This is all for you.”

Without waiting for a response, he suddenly grabs your shirt by the front placket and rips it in two. The buttons fly everywhere, one almost hits him in the face, but you don’t care. You’ve never been more turned on in your life. He’s so hot!

“Oh god, James,” you whisper, unclasping your bra before he can destroy it. It’s your best one, and you still need it.

“Yes,” he groans at the sight of your breasts, but you cannot ignore the wave of self-doubt that takes over you. They’re a little bigger than they should be for your height, so the sight is not the prettiest, in your opinion. This has always been an insecurity of yours, and even more after your last boyfriend made sure to emphasize this before you broke up. But Bucky seems fascinated. With his eyes glued to them and his mouth semi-open, he leans in, bringing his hands to both of your breasts before cupping them. You get goosebumps as he folds them eagerly, and you hear him groan when they spill over as soon as  he tries to pull them together.

“James!”

But it’s like he can’t hear you, too engrossed in watching your nipples hardening even more, and before you tell him what you wanted to, you feel his wet mouth sucking in one of your nipples.

You’re taken aback, so he uses his gloved hand to make you stop moving by placing it on your waist firmly.

He’s suckling at this point, making low whimpers as he’s looking at you.

You swear you never saw a more beautiful man in your whole life. His blue eyes are hypnotic.

“F-fuck,” you curse, bringing your fingers to his hair. You need to grab something before you fall.

He switches to the other nipple, and you feel yourself throbbing. You need his cock so much. You need his mouth... you need him to make you come. And you want to do the same to him. He’s driving you crazy.

“F-fuck me! RIGHT NOW.” You’re screaming, but he’s not surprised, rather amused as he takes his mouth off your breasts with a pop.

“Easy there, you sound quite desperate,” he giggles as if he’s just made the funniest joke ever. You are desperate.

“Fuck me or I’ll finish myself off, and you won’t be able to touch me as I do. Your choice.”

You know he doesn’t like or do ultimata, but you have no alternative. You crave to be taken on his desk as hard as he can go.

“How can I fuck you if you still have your pants on?” He asks you extremely calmly, and you’re shocked. You expected a more... intense reaction. “Earth to you?” He waves his hand when he sees you zoning out.

“You didn’t take them off.”

“I don’t take your clothes off, love.” He smirks. “I rip them, so if you want them intact, you better do it yourself.”

You nod, enjoying how raspy his voice is, and take them off without looking away from his cock. Not that he could stop staring at your breasts. His eyes are glued to your nipples. Your underwear falls, and only when you step out of the pool of clothes and finally free your legs from the high heels, he brings his hand to your pussy.

“Oh God, look at this… drenched!”

You moan, moving a little into his palm as if you’re trying to ride it. You need him so badly.

“James-”

“I know.” He smiles, spreading your lips more. “I know. So needy, my poor baby needs her cock so she can relax.”

You whimper loudly as you close your eyes. “Take me, sir. Make me your little fuck toy. Take out your frustrations. You can... you can show me how I was wrong for quitting by fucking me until I feel your cock every time I walk. I need to,” you moan again as you keep grinding onto his hand. “Come on! Show me!”

Bucky’s eyes get so grey as he suddenly pulls his hand away, making you whine. You’re about to curse him, but what he does makes you stop. He starts to take off his tie quickly, and you smile.

“Good boy.”

That remark makes his snort, and he cryptically replies:

“Ah, ah, we’ll see about that later.”

“Take off that shirt faster, and your glove, too.”

That surprises him, his eyes immediately widening, so you decide to do it yourself since he’s not fast enough.

He freezes as soon as you pull off his glove, revealing a black with golden accents  prosthetic hand.

“This is so fucking pretty, oh my God! Why do you keep this hidden?” You turn his hand around, and you gasp, realizing what you’ve just said. “I am sorry if I seem insensitive, it’s just that...”

Bucky snorts, amused, not hurt, which makes you feel like you can breathe again. The last thing you wanted was to bother him.

“You got a kink for my arm now?”

“You talk too much,” you murmur at the same time you start to unbutton his shirt as quickly as you can. Your hands are trembling.

When he’s finally naked, you let out a whimper, instantly reaching to touch his chest with both of your hands.

“You shave,” you say, surprised.

“Come on, love.” He smiles. “Touch my arm while you still can.”

You don’t question what he means by that, not wanting to worry too much. You expected this to be a one-time thing anyway, so you better enjoy every second of it. The arm is seamlessly integrated into his shoulder, and it's colder than the rest of his skin.

You trace a gold pattern all the way from his shoulder to his hand.

“I have a kink now,” you giggle when you see the sides of his neck getting pink.

“Well, I hope you have this kink, too, because…” He doesn’t finish his sentence. Instead, he reaches for the tie he had on today and smiles. “Turn around and put your hands behind your back.”

“W-what?”

“Hands behind your back.”

“You want to tie my hands?” You ask, taken aback by his demand.

“Did you try it before? Do you hate it?”

No, you didn’t try, but it doesn’t sound bad, surprisingly.

You usually hate not being in control, but it’s Bucky, and as annoying as he might be as your boss, you trust him. Plus, you quit after all, you should enjoy this as much as possible. The thought of him tying you up is really sexy for some reason, so you simply turn around and bring your hands together above your ass.

He doesn’t hesitate and quickly makes a knot.

“Too tight?”

“No,” you whisper. It’s not tight at all.

“You can tell me to stop any time, okay?” He wraps his hands around your waist and turns you toward him. “I’ll stop immediately.”

You nod, trying to get used to not being able to raise your hands.

“Words, please.”

“Yes, James.”

“Good girl.”

You’d lie if you said it doesn’t turn you on like crazy. You’ve been indirectly fighting with him for so long without getting any kind of approval or praise for your work. He made you angry and stressed more times than you could count, but you still respected him. You wanted his approval and you craved him...

You got yourself off thinking about him, you imagined choking him out of anger, but then it turning into a completely different thing. And it feels surreal this is actually happening, and he finally calls you a good girl.

“Are you clean? Anything-”

“I always used a condom, and I do checkups every six months. I assume the same about you.”

You nod, not bothering to tell him you don’t remember the last time you had sex, all thanks to him and his impossible to please ass.

“Do you have a condom?” You ask, moving closer to him again.

“In the car,” he curses, but before you can tell him that you can try without one since you are on the pill, he speaks again. “Wait!”

You giggle as you watch him run out of the office with his ass wiggling. No way he goes to his car naked, right?

You jump on top of his desk, pushing a few docs on the floor with your knee. It’s quite difficult because your hands are tied, but you don’t mind. You wait excitedly for his return just to tease him, but you’re speechless as soon as you see him unwrapping the condom package with his teeth before he quickly rolls it on.

“Won’t the neighbor mind?”

“What he doesn’t know,” he grabs your legs as he speaks. “Won’t hurt him. You’re not gonna run your mouth now, are you?” There is something about his patronizing tone that makes you hornier. Maybe because you know you’ve been on his mind so much he couldn’t focus on anything else.

“Why? You want to keep my mouth occupied with your cock?”

You don’t expect to be turned around on the table instead, with your ass in the air. Holy fuck!

“How about I keep this pretty wet pussy of yours occupied, hmm?”

You close your eyes when you feel his cock at your entrance before he finally pushes in.

He’s crazy, he must be crazy if he thinks you can take all of his cock like this.

“B-Bucky!” You arch your back without realizing, fighting against the material of his tie so you can get free. The impulse to touch his back is absolutely overwhelming, and the coldness of his left hand drives you crazy.

“What happened?” His other hand goes up until it’s in your hair. “You got nothing else to say? Are you already cock drunk?”

“More!” you whimper. “I can take more of you, please.”

“Ah? So greedy for my cock.”

“Need it deeper, James. Need you to move faster.”

You don’t care how desperate your voice is or if you’re pathetic. “I just wanna be stretched open until I cry. P-please.”

You don’t realize he is holding his breath until you hear him exhaling loudly against your back before kissing the same spot.

“You wanna be fucked like you’re my good little toy, baby? You want-”

He stops speaking when you moan, trying to move your hands so you can touch him and push him deeper inside you by grabbing his ass.

That hot ass…

“Want you, sir. Please, make me a mess.”

And he does. He fucks you harder, making your eyes roll back, and you can’t help but try again to touch him.

“Just like that,” you cry out when your face hits the desk more forcefully than before. You can sense Bucky’s hesitation so you shake your head. “I’m fine, I’m... k-keep going.”

He doesn’t stop, he even goes faster yet somehow deeper than before, a combination you’re not used to, that makes you feel like he’s splitting you in half. Neither of you can properly talk anymore. You can hear him cursing and saying your name along with: your pussy’s drowning me, so wet, think you can t-take it harder, but there is a long break after every word so he can thrust back inside you. You can’t even call him James, your voice is so hoarse, and he’s so deep you cannot even breathe.

You don’t need anything more the second he pulls your hair harder than you’d ever expect. Before you know what’s happening, the pleasure explodes inside you, making you scream. You don’t even realize that’s your voice at first, too focused on trying to prolong this feeling as you push your ass back frustrated you cannot grab his thighs, while he keeps thrusting inside you. His balls hit your clit, and you moan, a little sensitive.

“Sir, please, c-come,” you whisper, turning your head to the side on the desk. “Come for your little fuck toy. U-use me.”

You flinch, shocked, when you feel a light slap on your ass all of a sudden, but it doesn’t hurt at all. Quite the opposite. You don’t have time to say something about it, though, because Bucky’s already burying himself inside you again as deep as he can, and you moan at the same time he does.

“J-James...”

He pulls your hair even harder while he comes, groaning your name and a low fuck, that almost makes you giggle.

“Jesus...” It’s the only warning you get before you feel his chest on your back.

“Barnes, you’re heavy!”

His laugh is adorable, but he’s indeed heavy, plus you also have your hands tied. When he finally moves, you hop off the desk, almost falling since your knees are weak. Now you can feel your thighs aching too. But it was all worth it.

Quickly, Bucky unties you, without saying a word, which only makes you more nervous.

“Thanks,” you whisper as you turn around to face him. Then, you watch him take off the condom and place it on top of one of the papers you knocked over with your knee earlier.

After wiping his hands on his thighs, he grabs your wrists gently, making you almost moan at the feel of his cold hand. You’re not hurt, but they’re quite red, probably from the times you tried to get free.

“Gonna buy some cream.”

You shake your head. “No need, I am sure I have something for this.” You try to sound as casual as you can, not wanting to be clingy in his eyes even after you quit. Even after this. “Can you hand me my underwear and pants, please?”

Bucky freezes for a second, but he still gives them to you. “Are you back to hating me?”

“What?” You ask as you start to get dressed. You don’t have the blouse, but your coat is warm. You won’t freeze.

“Why are you so cold now? Did I hurt you? Did I do anything wrong?” His concerned voice and look surprise you. You know he is nice, but you didn’t expect him to be attentive after.

“No, you didn’t. I assumed this is,” you wave around when you finish zipping up your pants. “Just wham, bam, thank you ma’am.”

He doesn’t laugh.

“I told you, you’ve been on my mind for so long. Why would I... and even if it was just a one-time thing, why would I treat you like trash? Especially since we work together.”

“Worked,” you correct him before he hands you his shirt. You raise your eyebrow surprised.

“I’m not gonna help you get dressed, Barnes. You’re a big boy.”

“Put it on, it’s freezing.”

“I have my coat,” you protest, but he won’t take no for an answer, and you know it.

“On.”

“Fine!”

He helps you with it since your hands are, for some reason, still shaking. “Look, I was gonna invite you over to my place, but if I make you feel uncomfortable, or if you don’t want to see me...”

You can’t help but raise your eyebrows.

“Really?”

“We have some things to discuss, and I have a bath to run for you.”

You roll your eyes, fighting the urge to smile as he finishes buttoning the shirt. “You want me to sign a contract to fuck you again?”

“Ha, ha. No.” He leans in a bit to kiss your forehead. “We have many things to talk about that don’t involve a contract.”

“Yeah? Like what?” You start to collect the documents from the floor. “The process of writing my resignation letter?”

You hear Bucky puff behind you. “You’re not quitting.”

“No?” You bite your lip as you look at him. “Who’s gonna stop me?”

“Me.”

“Hmm,” you whisper playfully before placing his papers on the desk. “How?”

“Let’s get home and we’ll see about that.”

[that-sarcastic-writer]

A Ballad of Lost Souls

Eric Draven (2024) X f!reader

Summary: what happens when two lost souls find each other? Cling to each other? Love could be a very dangerous drug indeed. You and Eric meet during rehab.

Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, p in v, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, brief handjob, hair pulling, choking, size difference, size kink if you squint, bit of inexperienced!reader, Eric is actually a sweetheart, unhealthy coping mechanisms, mentions of substance abuse, addiction, mentions of suicidal thoughts, this movie is dark what do you want me to say

Reader has tattoos, but has no further specifications, y’all get to be tattooed girlies today, you’re welcome

WC: 5.7K I’m sorry

Inspo creds @kingkat12, she also posted an Eric fic with the same concept and some of the elements of this story like some of the dialogue bits were inspired after reading hers. Please give her some love! She’s a great writer

A/N: NOBODY LOOK AT ME. idc, I love Eric okay, stfu. I just had to write him. He just needs love man. That’s all. I want to give him love. So here you go. I might make a part two if there’s enough interest. When I tell you the Eric fic supply is LOW, I’ve never seen one so LACKING. So I just had to yk? Enjoy and don’t cancel me alright.

You didn’t often dwell on the past. You had a live in the moment kind of mindset. You didn’t know where you’d be tomorrow so you made the best of the moment. But sometimes, you wondered just where your bad decisions were taking you. You didn’t mean to end up here, in this awful bubblegum pink sweater and sweatpants, surrounded by people who didn’t care why you were here, or if you got better or not. The disappointed words of your mother played in your head, and the angry words of your father hammered in the back of your head. You were a fucking disappointment, and that’s why you were here. 

You thought about ending it. This mess your life had become. It wouldn’t be too hard to find a razor around here if you truly tried. Who would miss you anyway? What even was the point of it all? By day two you couldn’t take this shit anymore. And then you saw him in the yard. You were almost entranced by him. He was so tall, he towered over everyone he walked past, you couldn’t imagine how ridiculous you would look standing next to him. You could see his ink cover his hands and fingers, and you wondered just how far the ink traveled. You were intrigued by him, he was quiet, morbidly so, he didn’t say a word to anyone, no matter how much they pressed or tossed him around, he just stared. Whether it was the doctors, the counselors, the guards. He always chose silence. And he always had this look of defiance, of apathy, he took everything with a locked jaw and deadpan eyes. And that intrigued you.

Should you try to entertain anyone in this facility, let alone the loner covered in tattoos? No, absolutely not. But lord, something about him drew you in. 

You caught glimpses of him for a few days, in the cafeteria when you walked past him to your table, maybe he thought you didn’t notice, but you caught him turning his head to watch you walk by. One time, your eyes met, they were a pretty shade of green. It was brief though, as soon as he realized you caught him, his eyes were in front of his plate, but not before you managed to flash him a tiny smile. Welcoming, playful. 

Eric remembered that. 

The next time you saw him was out in the yard. They encouraged exercise in this place, for some dumb reason. The most people did around here was stand in a corner, feeling completely miserable under the scorching sun. But much to your surprise, after some time walking around the yard you found Eric, lingering by the gym equipment. It wasn’t much, just a pull up bar and that was barely tall enough to accommodate him. No weights, of course, because someone could hurt themselves, or someone else with them. It wasn’t much, but you couldn’t help but watch as he pulled his sweatshirt over his head, revealing even more tattoos going up both of his arms. You stood in a corner like a fucking weirdo, watching as he did pull up’s, as best as he could having to bend his long legs to accommodate the short bar. Why were you just staring at this man you’ve never even spoken to? Of that you had no clue. But you couldn’t take your eyes away. He had his back to you, but even under the material of his white t-shirt you could see the muscles in his shoulders tense, his arms flexing with each pull. And you could only I magine the true sight of him. Sweat dripping down his forehead, lips pulled between his teeth as he did each pull. God, you felt like such a pervert. You shouldn’t be eye fucking him like this, but you couldn’t help it, something about him twisted the most secluded corners of your mind.

Ultimately your trance was cut short, since it didn’t take long for a group of guys to take interest in whatever Eric was doing and went straight to push him around some more. You frowned, almost upset by the sight of him getting tossed around and hazed like this. You couldn’t hear what was happening, but Eric had his head down, chest heavy as he clenched his fists at his sides, but he otherwise did nothing. You didn’t care, any fucks you still had to give were gone the moment your parents and your ex-boyfriend conspired to send you here. You were about to walk over there, not caring about what weird opposite sex rules this place had. But when you started walking, Eric did too, getting shoulder checked as he pushed his way past the group of guys. You felt awful, you wanted to say something to him, but you were frozen when he walked past you, his green eyes shooting a quick glance at you, a bit of curiosity laced in them. But you were more focused on how his shirt was clinging to his sweaty chest. And just like that he was gone.

The next time you saw him was during a group meeting that afternoon. You were almost disappointed at first when he didn’t show. You sulked into your seat for the first minute or two, upset you wouldn’t get to see him today again. And then you saw him. His expression as apathetic as ever, like he would rather get beat up than sit through this bullshit. His hair was soaking wet, small droplets of water still falling from the tips of his raven hair. Great, now the image of him in the shower was ingrained into your brain. As if you didn’t feel filthy enough.

You bit your lip softly, sitting up as he sat across from you, his expression blank with disinterest as his tattooed fingers played with the hem of his pink sweater. You weren’t paying attention either, you were more entertained by the way his long legs spread open as he slouched on his chair, taking as much space as possible. You thought about how nice it would be to sit on his lap. You glanced at his hands, they were huge. How easily he could grab a hold of your ass, or hold you still by your neck. How his long fingers would feel so deep inside you. You thought about how easily he was doing those pull ups, and you thought just how easily he could hold you down, throw you around to as he pleased with you. Truly, you would happily let him use you. You could feel heat rush to your face as you crossed your legs, trying your best to ignore the heat pooling between your legs. Why were you lusting so hard over him? You didn’t even know his name. 

Almost as if he could hear your pounding heart, Eric looked up to find your eyes lingering on him, one leg crossed over the other tightly. He tilted his head with curiosity, and his fingers twitched around his sweatshirt as your eyes met. He didn’t feel like looking away this time. The longer his hooded eyes were on you, the more nervous you became. You could feel your breath hitch in your chest as his eyes burned you. You only looked away when the counselor said your name, followed by stares. 

Shit, were you supposed to say something? 

You opened your mouth, immediately closing it as you had nothing to say. You didn’t even hear the question. You pursed your lips and shook your head lightly. The counselor sighed softly and looked to the girl beside you instead. It was common for most people here to refrain from speaking so he didn’t think too much about it. But when your eyes found Eric again, there was a small hint of amusement in his eyes, a ghost of a grin tugging at his plush lips. For the first time since you’ve been here, you saw something other than disinterest on his face. 

Perhaps he was just as drawn to you as you were to him. 

~~~

You pulled your lips into a disappointed pout as you searched around the cafeteria for his black mullet, not being able to find him. And here you thought today would be the day you finally spoke to him. You were about to sit at the nearest empty table when you found him. Even sitting down he stood out. You smiled to yourself, your heart pounding in your chest with anticipation. You looked around for guards, none were paying particular attention to you so you did it. 

He lifted his head slightly to glance at you, a quick second before his eyes were back on his plate. You saw the way his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. You smiled to yourself.

“I like your ink.” Were the first words out of your mouth. You said them in one breath, afraid he would get up and leave. His eyes lifted from his hands to meet yours, his eyes then fell to your own hands, one of them covered in distinct patterns and colors from your wrist up to your fingers. He wondered what else you were hiding under your sweater, like him.

“Hm.” He gave you a small nod, his plush lips pulled between his teeth in a way that had you clenching your thighs. “I like yours.” 

You smiled, the first genuine one since you’ve gotten here.

“I have more.” You whispered, leaning close to him, like it was some secret only for his ears to hear. His eyes flickered with amusement and he gave you another hum, his eyes now looking everywhere they could in hope of finding said secrets. 

“Me too.” His lips curved up the slightest bit as he lifted one of his sleeves up enough to reveal more tattoos going up his arm. Your eyes lit up as you excitedly leaned down closer with the excuse of getting a closer look. Your proximity was certainly way too close for this facility.

Leaning impossibly close to him without actually touching him, you looked up at him and with a playful smile you pulled down the collar of your sweatshirt to reveal more designs along your collarbone, the rest of the design hidden by your sweater as the colors continued down your shoulder. 

“But don’t tell anyone.” You chewed on your bottom lip, trying to hide your smile. He gave you what sounded like a chuckle and he shrugged.

“Who would I tell?” Though his face remained expressionless, his eyes had a glint that mimicked your eagerness, he welcomed your proximity. “Here he comes.”

You were confused by his words and you opened your mouth to question him as he sat back, his head lifting in the direction behind your head. 

“Males and females can’t sit together!” One of the guards, one you had noticed had a particular thing with Eric shouted, roughly grabbing the back of his chair to force him up on his feet.

“Huh? Wait, why are you taking him?” You talked back to the guard. “Hey, he didn’t do anything! I was the one that sat here. I—I’ll move. Don’t be such an asshole! Leave him alone!” You tried to help, even going as far as standing up but the guard was already taking the new owner of all of your attention away. Your heart sank as you watched the guard shout at him as he dragged him away.

He had managed to turn his head back for a second, and when your eyes met, he half smiled at you. He was almost proud of the fact that you tried to stand up for him. “I’m Eric!”

You smiled. 

~~~~~~

“Found you.” You skipped into Eric’s room, finally seeing his door open.

You hadn’t seen him since you got him in trouble at their cafeteria the day before. You got in some trouble too. You had a one on one meeting with a counselor about your choice of words and your “temper” but it was nothing more than just a slap on the wrist. Truly, you felt worse about getting Eric in trouble more than anything. You didn’t mean to, you just wanted to talk to him. He must have gotten punished because you didn’t see him during gym hour. You leaned against the doorframe as he turned around to find you. Curiosity filled his otherwise empty eyes, and a glint of amusement replaced the usual apathy in his gaze.

“I never left.” He answered with a shrug as he shuffled through the mess that was made of his artwork. Sketch papers were scattered all over his room, torn off the walls. Perhaps after getting in trouble during lunch they used that as an excuse to go through his room. 

“I’m sorry for getting you in trouble.” You expressed with genuine regret, shooting back a glance to the hallway before inviting yourself into his room. Much to the protest of the rational voice in your mind. You looked at the floor as you almost stepped on a piece of paper, you happily picked it up, admiring the black charcoal coating the page before you set it on his bed.

“Is that why you’re here? To apologize?” Eric asked almost cynically as he glanced over at you, not moving from where he stood.

“Well yeah. I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.” You said sheepishly, a bit intimidated under his intense gaze. There was always a look of defiance in his green eyes, determination even. He gave you a sarcastic hum, which made you roll your eyes.

“Why did you yell at the guard? You got in trouble too, didn’t you?” He asked lowly, his head slightly tilted as he searched for that little thing you did around him, when you clenched your hands at your sides, or your thighs on your seat. His eyes irked with amusement when your fingers twitched at your sides and your lips parted open.

“‘Cause… You didn’t do anything wrong. You never do anything, or say anything. And everyone around here always pushes you around. It’s fucked up.” You answered quietly, daring to meet his eyes. He pulled his lips into a small pout and nodded slowly. His silence was always so nerve wracking to you.

“Yeah, so?”

You scrunched up your face, sighing heavily at his questioning. What did he what you to say? You didn’t know why you cared. You shrugged, picking up another piece of paper by your feet. You half glanced at it as you spoke.

“I dunno.. I just.. Oh my—” You cut yourself off as you gave the drawing in your hand a proper look. You narrowed your eyes, giving the drawing a closer look, and your jaw fell open. It looked like you, your hair falling over your face, dark scribbles covering your body symbolizing the unknown designs on your body, the only intelligible one being the patterns on your collarbone, the same one you had shown Eric. But what truly caught your eye was that you were in fact, completely nude. Truly, his imagination surprised you, he had imagined every curve of your body well, despite not having seen any part of it.

Based on your flustered expression, Eric could only assume which drawing you had picked up. He swallowed, his cheeks flushing pink being caught red handed. But he didn’t look apologetic, at all.

“This what you do in your spare time? Draw naked girls?” You asked with big eyes, the still working rational part of your mind screaming alarms, but a part of you also filled with excitement at his perverted mind. Almost as if you were on his mind as much as he was on yours.

He shook his head. “Just one.” He answered with a shrug, a challenging look in his eyes. 

Either you walked out right then and there, and that would be that, or you would go all in. He was trying to figure out which one it would be.

“You are very talented, this is—” You dragged your tongue over your lip as you walked closer to him, catching glances at his other artwork. Your heart pounded in your chest as you approached him, his gaze making you shudder. He said nothing as you stooped in front of him, now having to tilt his head down to meet your gaze. God this man was so goddamn tall. “You could totally sell this for some money.”

“But,” you continued, swallowing hard as you looked up at him, and the way his green eyes looked at you made your mind all fuzzy. God, you haven't felt this euphoric since you got here. This rush of adrenaline made you dizzy, but you pushed through it. “I see one flaw in your creativity.”

“Oh?” He bit down on his plush lip, head tilted with curiosity. You hummed and nodded, daring to bring your fingers up his chest. His breath hitched in his chest, but he said nothing.

“I fear you don’t have the full picture. My tattoos are more than just a scribble of ink.” You stated matter of factly, making him breathe out a small laugh.

“Sorry. I work with what I have.” He shrugged his shoulders, trying to ignore the feeling of your hands itching up his chest.

“Maybe I should give you more to work with?” Your hands found the back of his neck and you instinctively stood on the ends of your toes, itching to get closer to him.

Eric glanced down at you, his eyes lingering on your own for a split second before glancing at your parted lips, soft breaths escaping you as you anxiously waited. He didn’t have to think about it, he didn’t want to. His mouth was on yours so hard you whined. His large hand found your hair, tilting your head back to meet your lips better. 

You weren’t sure when you ended up against the nearest wall, your legs wrapped around Eric’s slim waist as he held you up. You were right, he could hold you up like you were nothing. Truly, the oversized clothes you were forced to wear didn’t do him any justice. You wondered what he was hiding under his sweatshirt.

His lips were messy on yours, his heavy breaths joining your soft whimpers. You were so caught up in the delicious feeling of his mouth claiming yours and his hands touching everywhere he could, you didn’t hear the loud voices of guards calling your name and patient number. Reality dawned on you when you heard shouting down the hall for everyone to get out of their rooms. You patted Eric’s shoulder, forcing your lips away from his. 

“Eric—Eric.” You said his name with urgency, making him look at you, eyes filled with greed as he chased your lips. “I have to go. I don’t want to get you in trouble again.” 

He nodded after a second, setting you down on your feet after pressing one last kiss to your lips. You had a stupid smile on your face as you successfully sneaked out his room, the guards being distracted as they probably ransacked some poor bastard's room like they had done Eric’s. You glanced behind you as you hurried down the hall, catching a glimpse of Eric peeking his head through his door. He smiled. And it made your heart race.

You could not wait to see him again.

~~~~~~

“Eric!—” You slapped your hand over your mouth, attempting to quiet the desperate sounds leaving your mouth. But the way his tongue lapped at your sensitive clit and his long fingers rubbed against that one spot within your walls that had you squirming.

You didn’t mean to end up in this position, ass naked on top of one of the washing machines in the laundry room, with Eric on his knees and his face between your thighs. Truly you didn’t, you knew you would be in a lot of fucking trouble if you got caught. But the way his lips claimed yours, his tongue lacing with yours, his large hands grabbing at every part of your body like he didn’t know which one he craved to touch more. He just wanted you so fucking bad, your kisses and little rubbing here and there for the past few days wasn’t enough for him, or for you.

“I wanted to taste you so fucking bad.” He muttered against your clit, a groan rumbling in his throat when you pulled at the hairs on the back of his head, inadvertently holding his face closer against you. Not that he minded, he would stay here, with his fingers scissoring you open until you dripped on the surface underneath you. 

“Please—fuck. That feels so good.” You didn’t remember the last time someone made you feel this good. Not that you had much experience in this area, but this sure felt right.

Eric wrapped his free hand under your thigh, pulling you to the edge, closer to his mouth. He lapped at your pussy like he needed it, like it was the air in his lungs. The sounds leaving his mouth as your juices seeped around his fingers were almost as filthy as yours. 

You felt like such a slut, chasing his mouth with your hips, heaving like a bitch in heat, and quietly begging him to grant you your release, as quiet as you could be with his fingers so deep and his tongue drawing delicious circles around your clit. 

“Just like that baby… Just like that.” Eric mumbled, his fingers slipping and crooking against that perfect spot. 

Your release was so sudden, and it hit you so hard you were shaking, sobbing violently into your hand. Your head was thrown back, eyes rolled into the back of your head. Eric dug his fingers into your thigh, his tongue slipping into your hole when his fingers left you. 

“Shit—Eric—” You gasped, your thighs shaking as you weakly reached to grab his face. 

With a grunt he peeled himself from the warmth of your thighs, he stood to his full height before leaning down to capture your lips. The taste of yourself lingering on his tongue made you moan. Disoriented, you reached down to rub where his cock was straining against his sweatpants. He groaned into your mouth, his large hand flew to catch your wrist.

“It’s okay.” He gave your lips a soft kiss as he pulled your hand away. You gave him an adorable frown, your mind still spinning from your orgasm. 

“But you—” He pressed another kiss to your lips, shutting you up. He moved his lips to your neck, latching on to that one spot that had you whining. Neither of you cared if everyone saw the mark he left. 

“We’ll have time for that.” He mumbled against your skin. The way he slurred the words made your breath hitch. “Right?”

He pulled back to meet your eyes, blinking slowly as he waited for your response. You licked your lips softly, breath soft as you thought, how could he still question it. You were past the lusting. This was something else. You needed more of him, and it wasn't just sex you were craving. You wanted every part of him, even the parts of himself he didn’t want.

“Of course.. This isn’t.. Can’t you tell? What you do to me. I’ve never..” You couldn’t even form the right words, your mind still fuzzy with all these feelings you had no name for. You didn’t need to explain. Whatever it was, Eric felt the same. And he smiled, he genuinely smiled. And what a pretty sight that was.

“We should go.” He pressed his lips to the side of your head, smoothing down your hair and fixing your sweater. “Can you stand?”

You half nodded, gasping when he set you down on your feet and you instantly leaned on him for support. The sly smile on his face made you want to slap him. But deep down, you wanted to smile too.

~~~~~

The next time you saw Eric, he was walking down the hallway, his tall frame towering over the majority of people he walked past. He wasn’t hard to find. You bit your lip, unable to contain your excitement as you hurried after him. Your fingers brushed his, and almost as if he knew your touch by heart, he wasn’t startled, he didn’t flinch either. When he turned his head, his eyes grew big at the sight of you, the corners of his lips curving into a tiny smile. You flashed him a whole smile, unapologetic about how happy it made you to see him. Your obsession with him over the past two weeks wasn’t something you could explain, you knew it probably wasn’t healthy. But when were you ever known for having healthy coping mechanisms? You found something that filled you and you clung to it.

“Where are you going?” You asked him quietly as you walked beside him. He walked slower, but didn’t look at you much, as not to bring unwanted attention to yourselves.

“Laundry room.” He said quietly, his eyes dropping to meet yours. And you shared that knowing and malicious look. You couldn’t hide the smile on your lips. This time of day usually meant you could sneak off for a little while since most patients were having their once a week visitor, or phone call, which meant less guards were in every corner.

“I’m supposed to be out in two weeks.” You told Eric in between kisses, his lips trailed your jaw as his hands grabbed at your ass. 

“I’m out in four.” He answered as he pressed you against the nearest wall. He grabbed your face between his large hands, pulling you to meet his eager mouth. You whined, fists clenched around the front of his sweatshirt. You couldn’t go two weeks without seeing him, you would go fucking mad.

“I don’t want to wait a month to be with you.” You breathed out, your chest heavy as the words left your mouth. “I’m supposed to go back to my parents when I get out. They agreed to take me in to follow my treatment, but I don’t want to go. They’re the ones that put me here.” 

“I don’t have anywhere to go.” You barely heard him as he spoke, almost as if the words pained him, broke something deep inside him. It broke something in you, too.

“You can come with me. I have a little place and some money saved. It’s not much but.. If you want.. We could.. We could try something for real?” You trailed off, afraid he would reject you. It was one thing to mess around in here, where neither of you had anything else, anyone else to cling to, but this being anything other than a desperate bond by two lost souls was a different story. Outside of these walls, he could find anyone else, he didn’t have to keep the broken girl he fingered in a shitty laundry room.

“I would like that. I would like something real, with you.” His words were soft, as were his hands holding your face as he pressed his forehead against yours. You breathed out a laugh of relief. “Fuck this place. We’ll do it tomorrow, during shift change. There’s a vent up here that leads to the yard.”

You pulled him down by his sweatshirt, your lips crashing against his. He laced his fingers in your hair as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. You welcomed it, lips parting as you locked your arms around his neck. 

“Eric.” You said his name softly in a quiet plea. He opened his eyes to find your desperate gaze. He told himself he wanted to be better, he knew you deserved better, but when you said his name like that, when you looked at him like that. He was no better. “I don’t think I can wait anymore. Please, I… I need…”

“Need what?” His words were coated with arousal, he knew fucking well what you meant. But he wanted to hear you say it.

“Fuck—” You kissed his lips roughly, any sanity and restraint you might’ve once had, completely. You can’t trust an addict to have good self-control, now could you? “Take me. I’m yours, just take me.”

“Fuck.” Now it was his turn to lose his sanity. He gave your lips one last kiss as he squeezed your cheeks between his fingers, licking your lips before he spun you around to face the wall. “You’re a sweet girl, don’t forget that. I swear I will fuck you properly on a bed, with flowers and shit.” 

His words were rough in your ear as he pressed his lips to your jaw, his hands making quick work of pulling down your sweatpants and panties. They pooled around your ankles as he kicked your legs open as far as they went.

“I like carnations.” You gasped as the cool air hit your exposed cunt. You heard him chuckle beside your ear.

“Those are pretty. They’re pretty like you.” He hummed as he brought two fingers up to your lips. You happily took them in your mouth. Eric almost moaned at the sight. One of these days he needed to have you sucking his cock. One of these days. 

Eric pulled his fingers from your lips and with a kiss to the back of your head, he sunk his coated fingers into your hole. Your mouth fell open, your forehead falling against the wall. You were instantly chasing his fingers, soft whimpers leaving your lips as you happily rode them. You didn’t know how he did it, how he could have you dripping around his fingers in a matter of a minute or two. You were clawing at the wall, silent moans spilling from you when he pulled his fingers from you. He watched almost proudly as your slick coated your thighs. 

“Can I take this off?” He asked quietly, tugging at the hem of your sweater. You made a humming sound, as best as you could. As if he needed to ask. Eric was happy to rid you of your sweater, more happy to find more hidden tattoos going all over both of your arms. He craved to find every single one of your tattoos, and kiss every one. But he knew it would be best to be quick.

His own sweatshirt met the same fate, and with a kiss to your cheek, he grabbed one of your hips as he pulled down his sweats enough to free his cock. A groan left his lips as he dragged his cock between your folds, coating himself in your slick. You gasped, not being able to see him, but already knowing he was big. 

“Let me know if it hurts, hm? I’ll take it easy, I promise.” He pressed his lips to your jaw, inhaling your sweet scent as he slowly sank himself into you. Only his tip was in and you could already feel the sting of his cock stretching you wide open.

“Fuck. Fuck, oh my god—” You squeezed your eyes shut, fingers clenching around nothing as he slowly filled your further, inch by inch.

“It’s okay. You want me to stop?” He asked, shushing you softly as he sat still, allowing you to adjust to the burning feeling of his size. Fuck, you should have known someone as tall as him would be this big. Somehow, it didn’t occur to you.

“No. ‘m okay. Keep going.” You reached behind you to touch him, your fingers gracing over the side of his face. He nodded into your neck, one of his hands sneaking to the front of you to play with your clit to ease you as he sank into you until his hips rutted against your ass. He sat still, speaking filthy words into your ear until you were whimpering, needing to feel more. “Eric, please.”

You didn’t need to tell him twice. His pace was slow at first, slow strokes that allowed you to revel in the feeling of his cock in and out of your walls. But as you both began to grow desperate, pathetic sounds leaving your lips and groans of pleasure leaving him, his pace picked up. It was grueling, how he fucked you against that wall. You braced yourself with one hand, the other holding his face behind you as he leaned his head to capture your parted lips into a messy kiss. He swallowed your sweet sounds as the sting of his cock had you squeezing the life out of him.

“Fuck, I have been dreaming about this since I saw you. You always looked so pretty when you looked at me.” He whispered in your ear, his hand wrapping around your hair as he forced your head back, exposing your neck. You cried out, his roughness making you clench around him. He cursed, covering your mouth with his large hand. “I need you to keep it down for me, baby. You don’t want us to get caught, do you?” 

You shook your head, doing your best to contain the sounds he was pulling from you. His hand slowly left your mouth, trusting you could keep your sounds to a minimum. You bit down on your lip, eyes squeezed shut as his cock split you open. You swore you had never been this utterly fucked out, so cock drunk before. You had never needed anyone so badly. You had never felt so strongly about anyone. You had always found something to cling to, pain, tattoos, in your more miserable and recent years—drugs, and now him. But him? This feeling he gave you, it was like nothing you had ever felt before. You wanted to hold on to him until your final breath of air left your lungs.

“I wanted this—you—so fucking bad. I needed to have you.” Eric grunted, lips latching on to that spot on your neck where the previous hickey he had left was starting to fade. “I’m so crazy about you, no amount of rehab could fix me.” 

You moaned at his words, letting them sink in. He was down so bad for you, probably as much as you were. Two addicts, seeking refuge in each other, craving this adrenaline, it was a kick you had never felt before. It was a kick only lust and passion could bring. And he ignited that deep within your soul. 

“Me too.” You panted, lips parting in ecstasy as one of his tattooed hands loosely wrapped around your throat. Fuck, the way his whole hand covered your entire neck made you gush all over his cock. “I’ve never wanted anyone this bad. You—ah!—I need you all the fucking time.”

“Then you can have me,” His fingers squeezed your throat tighter, his thick cock so deep you swore you could feel him in your fucking cervix. “All the fucking time. Forever.” 

Tears filled your ears as you could feel your release near, your thighs shuddering as you felt your legs start to give out. Eric was quick to press you further against the wall, his back flush against your chest, sweaty forehead pressed against your cheek as his cock rutted against you, over and over, until you were chanting a string of uh-uh-uh’s, your mind too overcome with the pleasure he was giving you to even speak. 

“I want you to come on my cock so fucking bad. I need it.” Groans fell freely from his chest as he once again slipped a hand to your swollen clit. The pressure of his rough fingers made you gasp, your throat closing under his grip. Your release hit you so hard you were sobbing, though mostly muffled by his tight grip. Tears fell down your cheek as your orgasm left you a shaking mess. You had never felt this way before—so overcome with pleasure you cried.

“Shh, it’s okay baby. Good girl.” The hand on your throat left to wipe at your tears, soothing you as you came crashing down. 

Eric fucked you through your release, frantically chasing his own. His name left your lips with praise, sobs of your remnant pleasure as he pushed you to the point of overstimulation. But it wasn’t until he felt his own release near that he pulled out of you. Without saying a word, he grabbed one of your hands and wrapped it around his thick cock, his own hand guiding yours up and down his slick length, sweet praises leaving his lips until he was spilling himself. 

Heavy breaths and pants of exhaustion filled the small laundry room, the air smelled like sex, and the remnants of your forbidden times were left as evidence. Eric eventually spun you around to face him, a soft smile on his lips. You had only ever seen it once, after he ate you out days ago. It was rare to see Eric smile, but you made it a vow to yourself that you would always make him smile like this.

“How fucked up are we? Finding comfort in each other like this. Did it ever cross your mind?” You said softly as Eric helped you dress. He was bending down to grab your sweater and he stood up to his full height, towering over you, and his eyes were laced with an indescribable feeling.

“When I first saw you, I didn’t know what it was, but I was so drawn to you, I looked for you everyday, and I thought I would go mad if I didn’t have you. And right now, I can tell you it’s not just lust. I’m entranced by you, I need you all the time. And if there’s one thing I learned from this fucking place is that you have to latch on to something, otherwise you’ll drown.” 

You were speechless, nothing but your soft breaths could be heard. A smile fell on your lips and you leaned into his chest. Eric sighed softly, wrapping his arms around you, holding you close to his chest, he’d be damn if he ever let you go anywhere but here.

“Addicts will be addicts, no matter how much they try to fix us. But it’s not always to drugs we’re addicted to.” You sighed softly, closing your eyes as you sank into the feeling of his arms. “This feeling? I never want it to stop.”

“It doesn’t have to.” He mumbled into your hair, in his head reminding himself of your limited time, but he refused to let you go just yet. “Forever, right?”

“Yeah, forever.”

[yourmidnightlover]

forever?

pairing: mob!bucky x reader

summary: after being forced into a marriage you didn’t want, you become very cautious of your new husband out of fear of what he’s capable of when one of his employees makes a move at a dinner meeting.

warnings: anxious reader, threat of domestic violence (reader is just worried abt it), groping, please let me know if i missed something or need to add anything!

a/n: reader is very timid in this. i know a lot of people like a reader who doesn’t take shit and stands up for herself, but i often find myself in situations where i just shut down and don’t know how to respond… so this is kinda inspired by that feeling

pt 2 -> control

two months out of forever.

two months of what seemed like wedded bliss from the outside.

in reality, that “bliss” included sleeping in separate rooms, never even seeing each other unless necessary to make appearances for either of your parents. 

the ones who arranged for this to happen in the first place. 

you were just glad you were able to have your time for yourself. you thought you would use the time to continue writing for your book, but you’ve hit a serious case of writers block. so lovely. 

on the bright side, he wasn’t as controlling as your few friends had made it seem he would be. 

they had painted this picture of a monster in your head. a man who would loom over your presence during every waking second. a man who was controlling and wouldn’t let you have a personal life or secrets.

so far, he’s been the opposite. 

for some reason, that still leaves you unsteady. 

because they also painted him in a very violent, angry, red light. 

but maybe he had a mistress. if that were the case, he truly didn’t respect you or your family. it didn’t seem like bucky to do that, though. he wouldn’t ruin a business deal that benefitted him so much. 

the reason you married him was because your father’s finance business was going under, drowned in debts while the only options were to sell to the barnes’ or the rumlow’s. the barnes’ seemed the lesser of two evils.

the only way to smoothly transition your father’s business to be under the barnes’ control without raising any question of your father’s capability was to marry. if any questions were asked about why your father sold his company, the not so good side of the finance industry would trample after your entire family. the barnes’ would get a new company and their many clients, while your family wouldn’t become entirely blacklisted by the entire country, would be putting your family under the barnes’ protection, and there would be less questions asked as to why the company had been merged.

you had a few months of “leaking” images of you and bucky together into the tabloids to prepare the public for the news of such a big marriage. some were photos of you and bucky holding hands while walking. a couple of you at a restaurant smiling. a few staged kissing photos… those may or may not have been your favorite.

those times spent with him, in all honesty, weren’t bad at all. going for walks together at sunset, dinner dates, feeling his lips against yours…

you had gotten to know more about his childhood that the tabloids didn’t feel was important to cover. his favorite subject in school and how he actually lost his arm so many years ago. you learned each others’ fears and worries in life. your favorite thing to learn about him, however, was what he truly wanted in life. 

peace.

a couple weeks after the wedding, a few photos of the reception were once again “leaked” in order to sell the “too in love to wait” bit that everyone had started assuming upon seeing the first few photos of you and bucky together. 

but all of your history with him flew to the back of your mind as bucky knocked on your office door. 

“come in,” you replied hesitantly, not sure what he wanted from you for the first time since your wedding. he stepped through the threshold and stood at the doorframe. 

“there’s a work meeting tomorrow,” his hand remained on the doorknob, so stiff you’d think he might rip it off the precious white wood in seconds. “the men are meeting at the house. i wanted to let you know. the men in this business, they expect marriages to be of the… traditional values.”

you nodded with understanding, turning to face him with a forced grin. “so i should play the part of the doting housewife, huh?” no smile in return, so you bit back your humor in turn for matching his serious tone. “what food should i prepare, then? and uh, how many guests will we be expecting?”

“whatever’s easiest for you,” he shrugged lightly. “there will be 9 of us there.” with one final look in your direction, he left the office and didn’t return to say goodnight. 

-

the next morning you got to work setting the house up for the 6pm meeting your loving husband was hosting. 

you had decided to set up a buffet-style table outside of the main dining room where the meeting would take place. for the menu, you settled on simple grilled chicken with quite a few side options. roast potatoes, asparagus, sauteed carrots, green beans, and rolls. 

you were putting the rolls in the oven when bucky got home, seemingly entranced by the smell of all the food, heading straight to the kitchen.

“it smells amazing in here,” bucky called from the archway of the kitchen. you jumped slightly from the surprise, but swallowed down the shock and another weak smile. 

“thanks,” you nodded to the edge of the island where a large chalkboard sat, your handwriting neatly displayed on the board that listed all the food to be had. “the menu. i figured a variety would be nice, and who doesn’t like chicken, right?”

“vegetarians,” if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was telling a joke. but you knew better than that. “the men are coming in a little less than an hour. do you maybe want to change before they get here?”

you looked down at what you were wearing, a pair of blue jeans and a loose t-shirt clearly not worthy of someone who had married a barnes man. “right, of course. i’m sorry,” you finished setting the timer on the oven and ran upstairs to get yourself put together before bucky saw the tears trying to seep past your waterline. 

you settled on a black cocktail dress you had worn to one of your dad’s company events before the downfall… quickly swiping some makeup on to cover the exhaustion in your eyes and pulling your hair up to a more respectable updo rather than your typical messy bun. 

luckily you had become an expert at quickly getting ready from your time in university, as you were back in time to pull the rolls from the oven, but not before pulling on your apron. you’d be dammed if you got this stunning dress dirty right before this prestigious meeting. 

t-5 minutes before the meeting was supposed to begin and you could already hear lots of rustling from the formal dining room. you knocked on the closed doors before bucky opened the door for you. 

the men went silent as their gaze rested on you in the doorway. 

“the foods ready. buffet style?” your eyes didn’t leave bucky’s pretty blues, too scared to do anything wrong in front of his men. 

“that’s perfect, my love,” his hands gravitated to your waist before pulling your body taut against his, one hand moving a stray hair behind your ear before leaning in to whisper. “you look ravishing…”

as he pulled back, you were sure your blush was evident across your cheeks. you tried to hide it behind a smile, shrugging with a shy ‘thanks’ leaving your lips. 

“what do you say to my stunning wife, boys?” his hand squeezed your waist once more before turning to the other men, ‘thank you’s being echoed throughout the room as they stood and made their way to the kitchen to make their plates. 

in a matter of minutes, all the food was gone. you figured it was best they liked the food, even if you didn’t get to try any of it yourself like you had planned. 

you got started on cleaning everything up with earbuds in your ears, starting with the dishes already in the sink from when you were cooking. then, you were sure to place the dishes that the food was in inside the sink for you to clean before starting on wiping the counters, then sweeping, then mopping, and then back to the dishes. 

you didn’t realize that bucky had called for a break in the meeting, however. you were in for quite the rude awakening when you felt a pair of hands on your waist, but not the ones you were semi-familiar with. 

you turned around with a gasp, shock evident on your face as you tried to piece together whoever this man was. blond hair, blue eyes… definitely not steve though. you knew steve well and had seen him often. 

you pulled your earbuds from your ears in attempt to better understand what was going on. his hands were still gripping your sides, but you couldn’t necessarily escape his touch. you were backed against the sink. even if you could fight him, you’d likely lose to his strong grip. 

“is the meeting-is it over already?” your voice was so much more cowardly than you’d ever expected yourself to be. 

“no, no,” he shook his head. “just a little break, some of the guys were getting antsy.” you leaned back further, trying to create some semblance of space between you. “i figured i’d say a special thank you, on behalf of all of us guys in there.” he let one hand cup the side of your face and neck, his other hand trailing down from your waist, firmly grasping your ass with a sqeeze before you jumped at the invasion.

“i don’t-i’ve got it…”

“john,” he smiled grossly, as if he could convince you to go to bed with him.

“no need for a thanks,” you tried to remind him. “i did this for bucky. for my husband.” your eyebrows rose, trying to emphasize that his boss was also your husband. 

“i’m sure he won’t mind you getting a little bit of extra special attention, don’t you?”

then, a growling voice cut through the fear running through your veins. 

“i think he might mind.”

you turned to face bucky with wide eyes before facing john, wishing the tears welling in your eyes would just go away. 

his hands slowly retracted, stepping back with a chuckle.

“sorry, sir,” he smiled before turning to face your husband. “she was just telling me how she wanted some extra attention, weren’t you, toots?” he tilted his head expectantly.

your mouth opened, nothing leaving in spite of your brain screaming at you. what would bucky do? would he take his side? would he believe you? would he hurt you? 

you’ve embarrassed him now… humiliated him in his own home. surely he’ll take action against you for this. 

your mind replayed stories your old friends had told you about him. how he would lash out at men that betrayed him. how he never took shit from anyone who showed him any disrespect. how he was the kind of man to shoot first and ask quesitons later.

and now, in a way, you’ve both betrayed and disrespected him. or at least, that’s what he’ll think. 

you didn’t even realize tears were flowing down your face until your sobs were interrupted. 

“enough!” you finally looked at bucky before his eyes softened for a second before walking closer to you. “go to the room.” he ordered sternly. 

“but the dish-”

“i’ll take care of it,” he interrupted gravely, “go. to. the. room.” 

“yes, sir,” you nodded and swiftly left the room entirely, collapsing against the door once you had shut it, sobs wracking your body. you held your knees against your chest before trying to regulate your breathing.

he won’t hurt you.

he has to protect his image.

you’ve embarrassed him.

you’re his wife.

you’re his business deal.

you’ve humiliated him.

he’ll hurt you.

you didn’t know how long it had been since the incident. 

your sobs had subsided. you had, at some point, moved to your bed. you were still rocking your body back and forth, trying to self sooth. 

and then there was a knock at the door. 

your body instinctively jumped at the sudden noise, although it wasn’t harsh in any manner, at least not one that you were expecting. 

he twisted the knob, slowly opening the door with slow movements. 

“i-i’m so sorry,” you began apologizing as soon as he stepped through the threshold into your room. “i swear-i swear i didn’t tell him that. i didn’t even realize he was there, i promise. i wouldn’t lie to you. i’m so sorry, i’m so sorry. please believe me.” your body was still rocking and you didn’t even notice he was as close to you as he was until you saw his hand moving by your head.

automatically, you assumed the absolute worst, your head ducking into your body like a fucking turtle, the meekest squeal leaving your lips mixed with a sob. your arms went over your head protectively, as if a bomb were about to go off.

“sweetheart,” his voice sounded so broken, so torn, so unexpectedly soft. 

you finally looked at him for the first time since he came in your room. his flesh hand was holding his metal one as if it were something that could kill. in ways, it was. 

“you-there’s no need to…” after looking at him for a second longer, you noticed that his eyes had tears that almost mirrored your own. “i would never, ever lay a hand on you. i’m so sorry for scaring you. i can’t…” he sighed. “i can’t believe i made you believe i’d ever hurt you.”

“i’m sorry,” you pleaded with him once again. 

“you have nothing to apologize for,” he hesitated to reach for your hands before settling on simply grabbing a spare pillow. “i came up here to apologize. for my tone earlier… i know john. he never knows his boundaries. i should’ve… you never should’ve been put in that situation. that’s my fault. that’s on me. and i will spend the rest of forever to make it up to you.” 

“you don’t have to-”

“no, my love,” he shook his head. “can i-can i hold your hands? please?” you, without hesitation, grabbed his hands yourself. “i need to make it up to you. you’re mine. you’re my wife. it’s my job to protect you, to keep you safe. and to have someone ruin that? to touch what’s mine in my own home? i’m so sorry.” he brought your hands to his lips, pressing at least ten kisses to each hand. he was so gentle and careful it was a good thing you knew better than to think it actually meant anything.

you were surprised, to say the least, at how tender he was being with you. 

how could you have ever thought he would hurt you? that he would raise his hand and swing? that he would cause you harm? he was here declaring that he would make up this incident for the rest of eternity when it wasn’t even his doing… 

“will you stay with me tonight?” his eyes lit up at the request.

“are you sure you want that?” he became a touch more reserved. “i don’t know if it’s a good idea since you were worried i would…” his voice trailed off.

“i’m sure,” you nodded before scooting over in the bed. 

sure, your marriage was arranged and didn’t stem from true love. you may not have talked outside of when absolutely necessary. you might have even been terrified of him at one point. 

but now, the thought of forever with bucky barnes didn’t seem half bad.