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#it almost makes me wish i had the dolls when i was a kid
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Screw it, I've got time to kill. Might as well start watching G1
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gutsby · 9 months
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Wedded Bliss
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Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Reader
Summary: The marriage was arranged, and the sex is deranged. Bucky is so obsessed with your pussy that he almost forgets he’s meant to be faking this whole thing—and hating it, like sworn enemies are supposed to do.
Warnings: 18+. Dubcon. Corruption kink. Virginity loss. Arranged marriage between enemies. Brat taming. Breeding kink. Beefy, mob boss Bucky devolving into a fall-to-his-knees-just-to-fuck-you kind of horny mess.
Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5
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You kissed him and wished him dead in the same breath. You said ‘I do’ and meant ‘I don’t,’ exchanged your vows like your own last rites, and felt him slip the ring on your finger as if he’d just tightened a noose around your neck.
You didn’t want to be a bride, and you sure as hell didn’t want to be the bride to Mr. James Buchanan Barnes.
Frankly, you were mortified.
And terrified, too, now that you knew your groom might actually kill you in the kitchen of your honeymoon suite.
“Have you lost your fucking mind?!”
“I walked down the aisle, didn’t I?”
Another plate went crashing on the wall behind your husband’s head just as he managed to duck. He side-stepped a spray of porcelain and glass and probably crushed several hundred shards beneath his polished black oxfords when he walked—stalked—over to you.
You’d just reared back to hurl a serving plate at his face when you found your speed swiftly outmatched. Bucky had your elbow gripped between his forefinger and thumb in less than a second, and, pinching the bone like he might readily break it, he said, even as always,
“Put it down.”
You did as he told you and dropped the platter to the floor with a crash.
Rather than berate you for the broken china—or the four other pieces before it—your husband only smiled.
“Are we done?”
Hell, you wanted to be. Slide over a pen and a one-way plane ticket to someplace in BFE, and you’d be signing those divorce papers in a heartbeat. Unfortunately, your dear husband was just referring to the temper tantrum.
You weren’t totally sure if you were finished on that front, so you looked him up and down and shrugged.
“Now darling—” he started.
“Don’t call me that.”
“Light of my life—”
“I’ll kill you.”
Your cool, level-headed groom took each gibe like it was his sworn duty, and only when he yanked your wrists behind your back and shoved you toward the bedroom door did you sense that he might not be too pleased with your behavior.
Your knees struck the edge of the California King at the center of the room, and before you could will yourself not to fall face-first, Bucky nudged you hard again.
Still pinning your hands behind you, he followed your collapse on the bed and leaned over your prone body.
His breaths were hot on your ear; you could tell he was smiling as he started to hike your dress up your legs.
“It’s all part of the deal, doll.”
You wriggled under his hold and tried to angle yourself better to see him, hoping he’d see your scowl.
“The deal was to get married,” you reminded him.
“Mhmm,” Bucky hummed, just then starting to trail a finger up the uncovered skin of your calf with his other hand, “And what is it that married people do?”
You kicked your foot reflexively, paused, then said,
“Fight. Constantly. Probably resent each other for the better part of two decades before we finally decide that ‘making it work’ for the kids isn’t worth it at all, and I claim half of everything you own in a bitter divorce.”
That earned a chuckle from Bucky. He kept his roaming hand brushing up the back of your thigh and squeezed the flesh just below the swell of your rear.
“Don’t worry, my lawyer drafted a pretty good prenup.”
You opened your mouth to speak, but then he was tracing the contour of your ass with his palm, and you cut yourself short. Bucky carried on, careless as ever.
“But the kids you mentioned,” he said, “How are we supposed to get those?”
You pursed your lips and tried hard not to move when his fingers drifted inward—you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you squirm. The bottom of your dress was bunched around your hips now, leaving you sorely exposed. Had your bridesmaids not thrust that stupid white lingerie set upon you hours before the wedding, you probably would’ve chosen something a little more modest than a thong. But here you were.
At least the sight seemed appealing to your husband, whose eyes hadn’t left you once while his hands grew even hungrier to feel your warmth.
“I’m hoping a sperm donor or one of your double-crossing mobster friends will knock me up, honestly,” you said, feigning enthusiasm at the thought.
A tart slap delivered to your ass told you that Bucky hadn’t found that funny. After, he started kneading the skin a bit harder.
“No shot,” he shook his head, suddenly gliding his fingers down closer to your core and waiting for you to say something in protest, “Only one that’s gonna be pumping this thing full of babies is me, I promise.”
It was like he wanted your retaliation, whether that be by a thinly veiled look of disgust or a reactionary jab of your own. You weren’t keen on fulfilling any wish of his, but at this point, you felt you had no other choice. When you sensed he was distracted by the newly-discovered heat between your legs and had loosened his grip on your wrists, you flipped yourself over on the bed. Shoved at his chest before he knew what to do with himself.
Of course, the push didn’t send him far, but it was enough to get his attention—and his hands off of you.
“I’m not having your babies, Barnes! I am never going to fuck you, no matter how long we stay fake married,” you spat.
At that, Bucky just raised his eyebrows and wet his lips. You were cramming your wedding dress back into place, glaring at him the whole time, and were scarcely more aware of the bright, teeming city outside the window than you were of your husband’s own growing erection.
Finally, you’d said it. His new wife wouldn’t fuck him. The sound of your resistance was almost a pleasure unto itself, and the longer you stared at Bucky with growing contempt and resolve not to do that thing, the more determined he became to make it happen.
Cat-and-mouse games had long been a staple in his life, and he was pleased to see them carry into his marriage as well. Surely if he’d triumphed in every pursuit for the last twenty years—facing the likes of some seriously execrable bandits and racketeers—he could take on a bratty woman less than half his size. You said you didn’t want his babies now, but just wait until he’d fucked you full of his cum once or twice. You’d be begging him for it in no time at all, and shortly thereafter, he’d have you barefoot and pregnant as many times as he liked. Always swollen with one of his children and whining for more.
The woman before him now had a murderous glint in her eyes, but he could fuck that away easy. In fact, he would live to do it. He traced the outline of your thigh over your dress and smiled when you tried not to recoil.
“Surely you didn’t think we’d be finger-painting and reading poetry to each other on our wedding night, hm?” he asked, almost delicately.
“Thought you might have one of your other women lined up,” you snorted. When you tried to move away, Bucky pinched your leg to make you stay. You winced.
“That’s not funny,” he said, a little more consternation in his tone. Like he actually cared whether you thought him a profligate Lothario or not, “Now that we’re married, it’s only you and me. No mistresses, nothing.”
Yeah, and he was just as likely arriving to your marital bed a blushing virgin. You rolled onto your side and pretended not to feel him tighten his grip as you did.
“Try the carnal part of our marriage yourself and I’m sure you’ll find I’m an exceptional fuck,” Bucky continued, speaking low as he stroked the chiffon of your dress.
You didn’t doubt the man was good—certainly the extent of his sexual escapades as a twenty-something seemed to demand it—but exceptional? No fucking way. You knew men like Bucky, with the world and every walking pair of tits at their fingertips, and almost all were incurably selfish. Cocky. The kind to jackhammer a woman for three consecutive minutes, roll over, and say, ‘Did you cum?’
No, there was not a snowball’s chance in hell your husband’s sexual prowess was even half as good as he claimed it was. Deciding to bite your tongue for the first time that night, though, you just stared at him blankly.
What you didn’t know was that your silence only stoked the flames of his ego, prompting him to press the matter further.
“What? You think I can’t fuck?” he said, “Any woman lucky enough to bed me has cum at least twice. Every time.”
Sure they did, Bucky, you wanted to say, but were suddenly drawn into his lap before you could speak.
“But let’s pretend I can’t,” he said, heedless of the face you made as soon as you were straddling his hips, “You wouldn’t let your husband prove himself tonight?”
“I don’t fuck strangers.”
Bucky smiled at that.
“Everyone’s a stranger until you get to blow them, honey,” he teased, squeezing your hips when you didn’t seem amused at all. Then you let out a cry, feeling yourself thrown back on the mattress like a rag doll while Bucky moved off.
Before you knew it, he was tugging your ankles down the length of the bed and widening his stance just a bit. He stopped pulling once your knees were grazing his black dress pants and your feet were dangling off of the bed.
“You like skylines?” he asked.
You frowned and raised a brow that he was quick to interpret as a ‘yes.’ He hauled you onto your feet.
“‘Course you do. All pretty girls like pretty skies,” he rattled on, strolling with you step-by-step to the set of French doors at the end of the room.
Bucky led you out to the balcony. The air was warm as it ever was, dull gusts of the evening wind curling up from the coastline below. Just as your husband had promised, the skyline of Santorini greeted you on either side, and you had to admit, it was more than just pretty. The views from your villa were absolutely breathtaking.
You stood with your back to Bucky, hands resting on the marble balustrade, and you felt him there, behind you. You didn’t bother to tilt your head when he drew even closer.
“What do you like most about it?” The question was simple enough, punctuated with a kiss on your shoulder. Your eyes scanned the horizon, the sea, even the quiet little streets down beneath, and you racked your brain trying to think of an answer that might satisfy him.
Before you could, though, you sucked in a breath when you felt your dress start to come undone at your back.
Bucky was unzipping your gown, gentle as ever, and probably grinning from ear to ear as he watched you shift uncomfortably in place and try to hold the material above your breasts where it had been fastened all day. Presently, you kicked your heel backward and hoped it would land somewhere near his balls. You missed.
“James,” you hissed.
Bucky groaned at the sheer intonation of his name on your lips.
“Yes, dear?”
“Why are you undressing me?”
Bucky had successfully dragged the zipper all the way down to your ass, and it seemed he was trying to shimmy the dress off your frame. You held on tight.
“I’d like to fuck my bride over the balcony railing, if that’s alright with you,” he answered truthfully.
The man was nothing if not blunt and crass. You turned around to give him a look, yanking your gown even closer to your chest.
“I’ll— I’ll tell my mother, Barnes.”
You felt stupid as soon as you’d said it—using your go-to threat whenever you were in distress. What were you, eleven?
“Your mother?” Bucky repeated, words steeped in derision, “Last I recall, mommy dearest was practically begging me to get you pregnant at the reception.”
Your jaw clenched, and you internally cursed your whole family. Your parents were supposed to be on your side throughout all of this—it was bad enough they’d pawned you off to a mob boss of unrivaled infamy all to settle a debt, but this? Your mother had assured you just the day before that Mr. Barnes was bound to tire of you within the year. No mention of sex or babies whatsoever.
The same mother who had beat you over the head with the notion of your own virginity since you were old enough to read, the one who had underscored just how important it was to wait for the right man to give yourself body, mind, and soul to, turning around and telling this filthy criminal to have you any way he liked. And knock you up? The fucking nerve of that woman.
You were so preoccupied with thoughts of your own backstabbing family that you hardly felt Bucky drag your dress the rest of the way down your body. It was only when you were completely bare before him, and your husband had just started to skim his lips over your tummy that you tensed with surprise.
“I don’t have to fuck you just yet, doll,” he murmured, having sunk to his knees and only moving lower. Then the corners of his lips twitched, “Least not with my dick.”
You tried to pry his head from between your legs before he could stretch his tongue so much as an inch.
“James!”
Again with that name.
“You know, I love when you call me that, Mrs. Barnes.”
Bucky was peering up at you now, soaking in the sight of your body in a white lace bra, panties, and stockings.
“Is my bride feeling shy?” he teased, gently nipping at your inner thighs.
You weren’t sure what you were feeling in that moment, to be honest. Revulsion, betrayal, arousal, you name it—each crowned with an all-encompassing hatred for the man currently occupying the space between your legs—while a still stronger desire almost hoped he would stay.
“You can hate your husband all you want and still let him tonguefuck you,” Bucky growled against your skin.
Like he’d read your mind.
In reality, your husband hardly needed the powers of telepathy to tell him just how turned on you were; the sopping wet spot in your panties said as much. From his vantage point, Bucky saw the disgust in your eyes slowly eclipsed by lust, and with a single flick of his tongue, he knew he would have you exactly where he wanted you.
“Just let it happen, honey.”
He felt your fingers thread tight through his hair and the first stir of your hips in tandem. One small, delectable whimper crossed your lips, and it took everything in Bucky not to tear your panties straight off with his teeth.
Instead, the man opted for a soft, gentle lick over your clothed slit. Testing the waters.
Your whimper was quick to meld to a moan, and then, just as fast:
“N-no, Bucky.”
To your dismay, his tongue didn’t retreat, only making firmer laps against your centre while his lips grazed the lace. He gripped your thighs and wedged himself deeper, and again, you cursed the paper thin fabric of your panties for letting you feel everything his mouth was doing. He hadn’t even made proper contact with your cunt, and your knees were already starting to shake.
He pressed a kiss above your clit through the flimsy material, and you almost tore a clump of hair from his head.
“No. Please.” You hardly made sense to yourself; it was clear you wanted his touch, but something inside you wasn’t quite ready to submit to the idea that this was all okay. That your husband’s tongue and lips might be meant for something like this, and you didn’t have to feel so guilty for wanting it either. Fucking purity culture.
“My pretty girl,” Bucky presently murmured above the fabric, words sending a dozen little shockwaves in their wake, “My beautiful fucking wife.”
The man inhaled your scent and could’ve sworn he was in ecstasy. Blinded by desire as he was, he really wasn’t bullshitting in the slightest when he gathered you to him and said you were the best; he’d genuinely grown transfixed by the feel of you, in spite of every fibre of his being telling him not to. The marriage was arranged, fake, and fueled by hatred—and somehow, Bucky couldn’t get enough.
Nor could he wait any longer. One light swipe of his finger tugged your panties aside, and then he was latching on, no cover this time, to take your clit between his lips. Sucking hard, going fast, needing it bad.
A moan rang loud in his ears, and your hand on his head was instantly joined by the other. You yanked his hair like you never had before, pulling so tight at the roots as though your pleasure depended on it. Bucky smiled around the soft pearl in his mouth and flicked it gently with the tip of his tongue.
“Feel good, baby?” he breathed.
His head tilted up to you, and he could see you were struggling just to breathe, face painted with a medley of emotions.
You didn’t know if you could, or should, be feeling this good from a man so evil. Bucky flattened his tongue and licked a long stripe up your pussy to ensure that you would. Then he posed the question again, smirking.
“You like my tongue on this wet, needy cunt?”
His words were so damn obscene, but you nodded anyway. Feeling small and powerless beneath those big, broad hands as they pinned you back on the marble and spread you even wider for the taking.
He loved how innocent and lewd you looked at once, wincing with pleasure and still trying to keep your composure like you thought a good girl should.
Bucky wanted to break that resolve. He brought one hand closer to your entrance.
And, just as your breaths were starting to hitch and grow more ragged in your chest, he pushed two fingers inside. The act surprised your husband almost as much as it did you—not quite, but almost—upon feeling how tight you were, how resistant to even two digits you seemed to be. He hardly knew whether to shove them deeper or pull them out, so fast did your muscles contract around him.
When you whined a loud, protracted, ‘FUCK!’ he figured he would stick with the former. He grinned, having never heard you speak, much less swear, out of pleasure like this.
Your head lolled back and your body made an arch when his fingers curled inside you. You were panting, moaning, coating his hand with your juices, and Bucky knew you were close.
He started pumping his fingers in and out while his tongue worked your clit, chin practically doused in your arousal by now. A swell of pride rose within him: he could finally bring you home to that sweet release, have you a shaking, soaking mess above his face like you were wholly his and no one else’s. He moved his tongue even faster and sank his fingers straight down to the knuckle.
Then, unexpectedly, both were robbed of your touch.
Seized with fear, you shoved Bucky off and stumbled away from his glistening face. You took off toward the doors and fled the balcony before you could think.
“What the f— honey? Honey?!” Bucky sputtered. He bounded after you.
You’d thrown yourself in the master bathroom and locked the door behind you in the blink of an eye. Outside, your husband had only to stare in pure bewilderment and awe, mind reeling at what had just happened.
Fucking hell, he knows. He knows! You collapsed against the door and slid down a couple inches. Your hand reflexively flew to your mouth to stifle the sounds when Bucky began pounding the wood behind you.
“Baby, what’s wrong? What’s—what’s goin’ on?”
In truth, you’d rather chug bleach than divulge the thought that had just scared the everliving fuck out of you back there. It was stupid and senseless and should’ve been frightening you for weeks before it ever came to this, but here you were, panicked in the bathroom of your honeymoon suite because you’d never done this before—and you’d never reached climax in your life without bursting into tears.
Fuck, you felt stupid. How could you think this would be any different—or that Bucky’s tongue wouldn’t eventually attempt to wrest an orgasm out of you?
It’d just felt so good, you thought maybe a new climax brought by someone else’s fingers might free you from the same unsavory demise you’d met a hundred times before, but then it hit you, shortly after Bucky had plunged his fingers inside, you were going to cry.
You winced when Bucky’s knocks grew louder, his voice gaining more ire by the second, it seemed.
“Open the fucking door!”
He’d rake you over the coals for this. Getting so close to what he wanted, only to have his silly little bride snatch it all away and run hiding in the en-suite bathroom? Your stomach turned at the thought of what men in the mob were liable to do with women like you—what Bucky might conceivably do now that you’d sparked his rage.
Your eyes darted to the window just as his fist shook the doorframe behind you. You ran over to the tub, tucked squarely beneath the windowsill, and climbed onto it just to get a hold of the fastenings around the glass.
One click synchronized with the furious cadence being hammered on the door, and just as you started to slide the pane up the way, a heavy thud sounded outside. The weight of your husband’s body being thrust against the door, most likely.
You bit your lip and lifted one leg over the windowsill, shuffling your body even closer to the outside world.
Three floors up! Have you lost your mind? You could hear your father’s words ringing in your skull already. There was a ledge, you reasoned, no more than ten feet below, if you could just grab hold of the frame right there and slide down the cool stone you might—
“Fuck,” Bucky groaned.
You watched your husband heave through the busted door of the bathroom, wide eyes and a ‘Here’s Johnny’ flourish raging hot on his face. Your heart leapt to your throat, and you started to lower yourself out of the window, hoping desperately for that ledge below to be sturdy. But before you could make it even half of the way there, strong arms were circling your frame and yanking you back inside, hurtling straight into the bathtub with Bucky tumbling over you.
“What are you doing?!” he roared.
You wriggled under his weight, petrified of the fiery look in his eyes as he lurched over your frame.
He straightened up just enough to shake you by the shoulders—like a parent reprimanding a child.
“What the fuck was that?! Huh? You think that’s fucking funny, jumping out windows?”
No, no, not funny, you wanted to bite back, but found your mouth dry and unable to speak. When Bucky shook you again, you had only to whimper a pathetic sound.
The man was enraged. Stubble still damp with your juices and looking undeniably frazzled and spent, he drew closer to your face and demanded you look at him. When he took hold of your cheeks in both hands, the command couldn’t have reached you any more clearly.
“What— what was that for?” his voice lowered as he tried to catch his breath. You still couldn’t move.
“I-I don’t—” you stopped and hardly knew how to say it:
Sorry to cut our tonguefucking session short, I was just afraid I might burst into a fit of uncontrollable tears while you licked and sucked me through the best orgasm of my life. I’d rather jump off, or out of, a building than tell my mob boss husband that I can’t cum without crying. By the way, I’m a virgin!
Instead, you just blinked and stared back at him.
“Can’t…do it,” you murmured.
Bucky’s expression only grew more puzzled by the words out of your mouth. He squeezed your face tighter and leaned in even closer.
“Do what? Sex? Fuck, I— I didn’t mean to be that aggressive, hell, I’m sorry.” He stopped to run a hand through his hair, and for the first time, you could’ve sworn you saw the first glint of compunction in his eyes.
He looked away a few seconds, as if collecting what fragmented thoughts he could, then brought his head back down to your level and took your hands in his.
“Honey?” he tried getting your attention, just barely above a whisper now, “I know the whole thing’s fucked, I know.”
That was the understatement of the century. To your surprise, Bucky’s gaze softened when he saw a scowl cross your face.
“We don’t…have to do anything. I was just pushing your buttons earlier. Being a dick.”
His tongue moved to wet his lips once more, this time without the seductive, smug demeanor he usually wore and simply exhibiting discomfort. He swallowed. The bow tie around his neck appeared to him to be fastened far too tight all of a sudden, and then, haphazardly, he started clawing at the garment to get it off.
You didn’t know why you felt compelled to help. It was like all ten fingers just lifted of their own accord to join Bucky’s hands in trying to undo his tie.
The silk fabric wasn’t tied, but knotted, crudely and inflexibly, beneath the little black bow. You frowned. Still unable to meet his gaze as you worked your fingers under the tangled material and tried to pretend like the two of you weren’t still sweating profusely from the events that had just transpired—both the tonguefucking and the window-jumping.
“Who tied this, a five-year-old?” you muttered.
“I’m thirty-eight, thanks,” Bucky returned just as quietly.
Both of you indulged in a smile that lasted no longer than a second, but you felt the tension ease a little.
This was not where you thought your dreaded wedding night was headed before. Curled up in a bathtub with your hands around your husband’s neck—and not actually trying to kill him—while Bucky blinked almost nervously the longer your hands lingered on his collar. It seemed he’d found something especially tantalizing on the wall behind your head, because his stare remained fixed on that spot the whole time you fiddled with his tie.
Maybe that, along with the last ebb of alcoholic influence from the reception still coursing through your veins, had emboldened you to come right out and say it while Bucky was looking away. You couldn’t be sure.
“I’ve never had sex before.”
At last, the tie loosened a little.
Bucky flicked his gaze back to yours in a second.
“What?”
You lifted a brow, wondering if he really needed an explanation as to what it meant to have never gotten laid before, but you decided against indulging him any further. Bucky seemed keen on doing that all by himself.
“You’re a virgin?”
You nodded.
“Didn’t my overbearing mother make sure you knew?”
“Yeah, I thought she was full of shit,” Bucky answered bluntly. Then, catching sight of the semi-offended look in your eye, mixed with a tad more amusement than indignation, he added, “I mean— I didn’t think you’d, uh, wanna wait…twenty-five years for some action.”
He winced when he realized that sounded just as bad. His throat cleared shortly to make way for a new attempt at comity, but you cut him off, shaking your head as you finally got the knot to untangle.
“No, I get it. I don’t know why I waited this long either,” you shrugged.
As soon as you’d freed him from his bow tie, you started to stand from the bath tub. Bucky, too, straightened to his full height and started to close the window while you walked back to the bedroom.
You eyed the rose petals strewn across the duvet and felt a little more relaxed this time around. The weight of the V-word had been lifted from your shoulders, and now you had only to share the crying-while-cumming stuff to Bucky later on. Much later on, you hoped.
You crawled onto the bed and stretched out on your belly, playing with the soft red petals and wondering if room service was still offered at this hour.
Bucky had just stepped out of the bathroom when he halted at the threshold. Saw your body sprawled out on the bed, back arched and ass pointed in the air as you reached over for the phone on the nightstand. He stared for a second too long and felt a familiar stir in his pants.
Sonovabitch, he started to think, before chiding himself silently, Shut up, man, she’s a virgin. Be cool. Be cool—don’t make her jump out a window again.
He ducked back in the bathroom and eased the door to just a crack while you discovered a voice on the line:
“Hi! Hey, I’d like to order room service to, uh…” your voice trailed off. Then, covering the mouthpiece, “James, what’s our room number?”
Inside the bathroom, Bucky squeezed his eyes shut at the sound of his name. Already palming his erection through his dress pants as he leaned against the wall.
“We rented the whole building, dear,” he called back.
“Oh.” He could just imagine the slight pout on your lips as you spoke. Then you asked if he wanted anything to eat, Bucky thought only of the sweet nectar between your legs, and he answered aloud, no, he was fine, really.
For the first time in his life, the man felt positively ashamed he was about to rub one out in a bathroom, alone. It wasn’t like this was the first it had ever been done, but now there was you, innocent and oblivious in the next room over, while Bucky undid his belt and quietly freed his cock from his dress pants. It felt kind of perverted, in a way, but he knew he needed this release to put his mind at ease and not feel so affected by you.
While you scanned your phone for a menu and chatted with the concierge downstairs about various food items, Bucky was spitting in his hand and fumbling for his shaft. You talked American Wagyu sirloin, lobster thermidor, and seared Faroe Island salmon while he thought achingly about the way your cunt had tasted and how badly he wanted to try it again.
How did he feel about an artisan cheese platter? Bucky hardly had the wits about himself to answer beyond a strangled, ‘Whatever you want, honey’ and a tightened fist around his cock, stroking hard to get the filthy thoughts out of his head before the food arrived.
Ever sweet, soft, supple, and savory—his mind reeled with fresh memories of that place between your thighs, and he almost lurched forward in pleasure.
Your brute of a mob boss husband was irreparably pussy-whipped and hadn’t even fucked you yet. He gripped the bathroom sink beside him and sincerely wished it wasn’t his hand doing the work right now. But of course, he had to be patient, had to be kind—couldn’t force himself on a woman who clearly wasn’t ready.
Again, he spit in his palm and jerked himself fast.
Any minute now, he thought with some relief.
Your feet padded softly into the living room as the pleasure inside him was starting to crest. Still pining for your warmth and the way your legs trembled around his head, Bucky was all but fucking his hand at this point. He’d snagged his bottom lip between his teeth in a lopsided smile and groaned, too low to be heard, and pumped himself even faster for his impending orgasm.
A thought crossed your mind as you stopped ahead of the sofa. You pivoted.
Suddenly, you were skipping back to the bathroom, wanting to know Bucky’s wine preferences before you placed another order.
You barged in and froze.
“Sorry!” you squeaked, darting out just as fast.
Five seconds slower and you probably would’ve seen Bucky blow his load all over the sink. As it was, the man was left sorely at a loss for any form of release and heaving fast, ragged breaths from the colossal scare you’d just given him.
Good fucking going, Buck—your wife wants to cuddle and eat cheese and you’re out here beating your meat.
Bucky shoved himself back in his pants and waited an excruciating minute for the sound of your second window exit of the night. A slammed door, a frantic phone call, a few sobs into your pillow as you realized how dirty and depraved your husband was, anything.
He was only met with silence.
Taking one more shaky breath, Bucky reached for the doorknob and started back out. Cautiously.
The man took his slow, silent leave of the bathroom with his gaze trained toward the doors—half-expecting to see his bride rappelling from the balcony—but then quickly shifted to the bed. Finding you kneeling at the edge.
“James?”
Your voice almost pained.
A word was all it took. Bucky was back on his knees.
“I’m sorry. I just wanted it to go away, honey. I’m sorry.”
Go away? You quirked a brow and couldn’t hold his gaze much longer; just trailed your vision down his torso to his pants, then his erection, still standing prominent as ever.
Bucky struggled to decide whether you were ticked off or intrigued, seeing your eyes make their painful appraisal of his length beneath his pants. Your brow was pinched, but your head was cocked. Almost curious.
“Are you mad at me?” you asked, gaze fixed on the spot.
Immediately, Bucky rose to his feet and crawled back on the bed, seizing your body with both of his hands.
“No! No, not mad at all,” he mumbled as he sidled up beside you. Pleased to see you hadn’t recoiled, “I was just, uh…missing you, ‘s’all.”
If his men could see him now, Bucky was sure he’d be the laughing stock of all the town. Doting and kind, eyes softened beyond recognition, he just watched you and wanted nothing more than to repair the smile that had ebbed from your face. Come ridicule, hell, or high water, the man was infatuated with his bride—all broken plates and attempted window escapes be damned.
Presently, you brought your hand down to his bulge.
Bucky stiffened but didn’t speak. He wanted you to do this on your own, of your own volition.
“You seem kinda mad to me.” You hardly knew what you were doing. Just rubbing his length and hoping it was something he’d like.
Where Bucky had wanted to see you smile, you just wanted to hear him grunt and whine—maybe grab your hips and beg you to do something, please. You’d never felt any such degree of control, and you suspected Bucky had never not felt it himself. You wanted him desperate.
You were playing a dangerous game, you knew it, but something inside those baby blues said he wanted to do it, too. Do anything for you, quite frankly.
You watched the rise and fall of Bucky’s broad chest and stroked his length even softer.
“James.”
“Uh-huh?” His mouth hung open with a gentle grunt, fighting every instinct to buck into your touch.
At last, you squeezed his shaft and prodded him on. Let your head drift closer to his so his lips would graze the apple of your cheek, and just when you sensed he wanted a taste, you tilted your face toward his own,
“We haven’t even kissed since the ceremony.”
Bucky stared blankly at you, enrapt with the pulse of your fingers. You could tell he was aching to move.
“Oh yeah?” he murmured.
You nodded a wordless affirmation and slid sharply back in bed as Bucky lunged after you. Your hands flew from his pants to the plush mattress behind you as you shifted—or, rather, scrambled—back in place and felt your husband climb over you hungrily.
“That what my wife wants?” he murmured, frame slotting tight between your legs.
You nodded again, and had only to suck in a breath before Bucky was devouring your lips. The kind of flushed, frantic, filthy kiss that would’ve doubtlessly wrought looks of horror on every face at your wedding had he grabbed you that way after the declarations of ‘I do’ had been spoken.
You loved him like this, impassioned and a bit unhinged.
His tongue worked his way past your lips and scoured every soft, fleshy inch between the insides of your cheeks before he took your face in his hands, kissing you roughly.
Something hard and throbbing nudged your sex, and suddenly you were whining in his mouth. Wrapping your legs around his waist.
“Ah, honey, don’t,” Bucky groaned, visibly straining to contain himself. When you dug your heels even deeper in his back, the groan that followed from him was hoarse and guttural.
“I thought— I…fuck,” your husband turned his head to curse as you grinded your hips up to his. You had to bite back a smile.
“I just wanna do what married people do,” you murmured coyly, pretending not to see when Bucky shot you the most red-hot, wanton look he’d imparted all evening.
“Yeah?” Like a kid in a candy shop the size of Sears.
Bucky took your face in his hands once more and made sure to scan your expression for any shred of doubt. On finding nothing there, he sat panting, half-disbelieving and half-contemplating all the wretched things he wanted to do to you. You squeezed his sides with your thighs and just hoped your husband knew what to do, because, in truth, you didn’t have the first fucking idea.
A few dry, clinical terms flashed before your mind’s eye, along with your mother’s bleak depiction of what treatment lay in store for a woman on her wedding night, and as Bucky started to work his belt and his pants off, you just hoped he wouldn’t be cruel.
He couldn’t be, right? He’d only mowed down a hundred men and dismembered dozens more, you were told, but surely a set of eyes this soft, caring, and kind couldn’t belong to a monster. You let him lift your hips and shimmy your panties, garter belt, and stockings down your legs, and when he returned, you tried your best not to betray the thoughts in your head.
Bucky hadn’t been with a virgin for as long as he could remember—maybe ever. His own ‘deflowering’ an ancient relic of his boyhood and the multitude of partners since then a mere flurry of nameless faces, he sincerely couldn’t recall a time when he’d asked, or cared, whether the woman beneath him had her cherry intact. He didn’t suppose it could be too different, as he peeled the last pieces of your lingerie set off your body and saw you seemed perfectly ready. He ran a finger between your folds and felt you shiver with what looked like excitement. Piece of cake, he thought, smiling.
No doubt he would take great joy in making you his own. His bride, his wife, an unblemished beacon of light in a life as sordid as his, looked perfect spread before him. You would adjust to his size. Bucky trailed the head of his cock up your slit and coated himself in your juices, and just when he’d bracketed his other arm around your head on the pillow, you let out a small sound.
“Are you sure it’ll fit?”
Bucky fisted his length and pressed the tip to your entrance.
“Uh…yeah. Yeah, I think so.”
He hadn’t yet met a woman who wasn’t able to fit him.
“Okay.”
Somehow, your voice sounded even smaller, head lodged between pillows and the crook of Bucky’s elbow. You felt small. Frankly, it didn’t seem like your husband was quite computing the worries that were pervading your brain, but you decided he knew best—your mother had assured you that husbands always did—and when Bucky first pressed the head of himself to the seam of your cunt, you hardly even whimpered.
You watched his brow furrow above you. He tried to go further.
Your folds were as soaked as he’d ever seen a woman’s, your hole practically pulsing with desire, and somehow, he couldn’t push in.
Bucky snagged his lip between his teeth and braced himself with the aid of the headboard, taking your hip in his other hand. A breath sounded on your lips the second he adjusted, and shortly thereafter, he felt your gaze on the same place he was watching: the spot where your bodies were trying to connect.
His features darkened at the prospect of failing, or even appearing incompetent to you in the slightest. He’d done this hundreds of times before, why wouldn’t it work?
When he felt your eyes trail back up his body and study his face—maybe wondering why her new groom hadn’t gotten around to thrusting into her yet, he thought—he felt a swell of panic and pushed.
Against his better judgment and the feel of your body, he muscled his way through and forced his cock inside. Bottoming out in a single, stabbing thrust.
You seized in pain but wanted to be a good wife for him.
Bucky, too, felt his hips stutter at the resistance your walls were giving him, but then remembered how he’d sworn to be a dutiful husband, and kept going.
Together, you stared anywhere but the other’s face and gritted your teeth for two entirely different reasons—you, in agony, and Bucky, in ecstasy, the latter hoping with everything in him that you liked this as much as him.
Bucky took a tender, if not slightly awkward, rhythm rutting against your body and stared steady at the headboard like he always did.
You were in pain and faced with nothing but his hulking chest, moving up and down, back and forth, over and over again like a goddamn seesaw from hell while it felt like your insides were presently being torn to shreds.
Who fucking enjoys this? you wanted to wail, but feigned a moan instead, raking your nails down Bucky’s back, Why isn’t he looking at me? Why isn’t he touching me?
Your walls involuntarily clenched around him, and he swallowed a moan.
Just think of baseball, beer, math, the Roman Empire, anything to keep from busting right now, Bucky told himself as he clenched his jaw and fought to maintain his pace. Your pussy just felt so. fucking. good.
Beneath him, you had tried and failed to fight back tears. The burn was just too much; the longer he thrusted, the more your walls contracted, and confusingly, stupidly, it seemed like he was using you. Your mother was right, most likely, that sex was just a means to an end for men like Bucky, and your husband didn’t care about your pleasure at all. You fought hard to keep the waterworks at bay, that one thing you hadn’t wanted Bucky to see, but eventually, the tears were flowing freely.
You stifled a sob that your husband mistook for a moan.
He fucked you even faster and felt a grin start to twitch at the corners of his lips when you made a sound that seemed consistent with pleasure.
“Feel so fucking tight,” Bucky grunted, about to lower his gaze to your face for the first time since he’d entered you, “So nice and tight and w—hey, hey, baby?”
He stilled inside as soon as he saw that you were crying. Took your face in his hands and almost couldn’t believe the sight of your tear-stained cheeks beneath him.
“What’s wrong? What happened?” he asked, scanning your face for any signs of harm.
You just shook your head and tried to brush him off.
“Keep going, I’m good.”
Bucky seemed angered at the suggestion. He brought your face closer to his and stared almost reproachfully down at you. Then he paused a beat and swiped one of your cheeks with the pad of his thumb.
“Am I hurting you?” he asked.
“N—”
“Don’t lie.”
You squirmed a bit and winced. That was answer enough for Bucky, and he slowly pulled out of you.
“Aw hell.”
The two of you glanced down to see a blooming red spot on the comforter. Bucky rubbed the blood in disbelief.
He’d gone too far. Again. Hurt something inside of you that couldn’t be fixed with a kiss. While you struggled to sit up among the pillows, Bucky was running a hand through his hair and cursing himself up and down.
“Why didn’t you say something?” he scowled.
“I didn’t wanna interrup—”
“If I’m making you bleed, you stop me, for fuck’s sake.”
“Well you seemed to be having a pretty good time!”
Bucky didn’t need to tell you in words what was painted on his face; he was pissed off and probably bound to slip off the bed any second, when your tears started welling up again. Then he eased off, remembering he was more mad at himself than anyone else, and slid closer to you. He tried pulling you into his chest, but you didn’t budge.
“C’mon,” you said, grabbing his wrist, “Let’s keep going.”
Bucky eyed you incredulously.
“Nuh-uh.”
“Uh-huh,” you insisted. He shot you a glare but didn’t protest when you guided his hand between your legs.
You were spread back open for him in no time. Still stinging like hell and ready for another go. Bucky almost couldn’t believe it.
“My headstrong wife.” He managed a smile before kissing the crown of your head, and kept right on kissing that spot no matter how far his fingers were traveling.
“You owe me two orgasms, remember, Mr. Barnes?”
It seemed Bucky’s boastful claims of late were in fact the furthest thing from his mind as he crawled back over your body. He pried your knees apart and left just enough room for his frame, taking his fingers to your folds and rubbing in light, gentle circles.
The bleeding had stopped. What little remained was long forgotten, and duly, the pain from recent memory was slowly but surely purged with every flick of his thumb. Bucky planted an arm next to your head and kept touching you there until your face relaxed completely.
When he chanced a finger inside, he was careful not to rub so much as plunge in quick, shallow motions, and at the first signs of pleasure, press light and tender kisses on your skin.
“If it hurts at all, you tell me.”
He sounded stern as he inserted another finger, but really, the man was all putty in your hands, wanting to please you and tease you in any way that he could.
When you told him faster, he sped up; you gripped his hair and said slow down, he did the same. He curled his digits in time with every whimper and moan you made and took care not to be too harsh on your sweet spot.
The only time he paused was when you looked up and asked him point-blank: could he fuck you sweet and gentle now?
Bucky paused. Swallowed.
The man would’ve screwed you six ways to Sunday if you asked him; that wasn’t the problem. The only traces of hesitation remained where your eyes said something different. Even as he shuffled between your legs at your behest, aligned his cock with your entrance, and felt a wave of desire wash over him, he pressed his forehead to yours and searched your glossy gaze once more.
“You sure about this, bunny?” he murmured.
Your heart melted at the name. You couldn’t deny you were frightened, and perhaps a bit worse for the wear after your last attempt, but his words were a comfort, his hand on your cheek a welcome gesture. When his thumb grazed your lips, you kissed it and nodded.
“Alright sweet girl,” Bucky said, tone laced with affection.
This time, before pressing the head of himself inside, Bucky caught your lips and kissed you softly. Rubbed himself up and down your slit—paying extra attention to your clit—and coated himself completely before trying to penetrate you again.
Your cheeks flushed, and you kissed him harder.
“P-please, Bucky, fuck me,” you murmured against his mouth, eliciting a small grunt from him.
“Yeah? You want your husband’s cock inside you, doll?” He kept the pretense of teasing, but really, he was just trying to make sure you wanted this as badly as he did. By the blissed out look on your face and the soft, ceaseless squelching noises produced by your arousal, he got the message pretty quickly.
He breached your folds with just the tip at first. You both felt your muscles contract. Instead of blindly pushing ahead like he had before, Bucky trained his gaze on your face and watched for any signs of discomfort.
“Everything okay, bunny?” he hummed as he brushed a few strands of hair from your face.
You were half in awe of how attentive he was, and doubly impressed by the stretch that followed—like a pinch, but nothing like the pain you’d felt before. You peered up at your husband and squeezed his shoulders.
“It— it doesn’t hurt this time,” you said, breathless.
Bucky could’ve caved at the sweet, innocent expression alone—like you were pleasantly surprised this hadn’t caused excruciating pain—and his lips moved down to pepper your cheeks with kisses again.
“Doll, I’m so sorry.”
The sounds and sighs of your pleasure beneath him, along with the words telling him it was okay, really, he hadn’t meant to do it, all made him feel even guiltier for having hurt you in the first place. It took him some time assailing your face with tiny, apologetic kisses before he even thought to feed you another inch.
When he finally plunged himself deeper, it wasn’t without your express permission; even then, Bucky feared he might split you in two.
The whole time he eased himself inside, he was moving his gaze between your face and the place between your two bodies—watching you open for him and take him inch by inch. He rubbed his thumb over your clit when you whimpered.
“Doing so good for me.”
“Stretching so nice for this cock.”
“My beautiful, beautiful wife.”
Every syllable of his praises flooded your head like honey. Feeling him stretch you out, fill you up, and rock you softly with his first shallow thrusts, all while talking you through it, had your mind ablaze and near-euphoric.
Pleasure practically searing your veins, you didn’t even hear yourself, or really mean to say it, as soon as you did.
“This doesn’t feel dirty at all.”
An epiphany to you and a puzzle to Bucky.
“What’s’at, honey?” He was still rutting his hips and slowly picking up speed. Your husband groaned when you clenched around him and pulled him even deeper—before you realized what you’d said.
Your cheeks flushed.
“I— I was always told sex made you dirty. This feels—” you stopped to swallow a moan when Bucky grazed a particularly sensitive spot inside you, “pretty nice.”
‘Pretty nice.’ Your husband couldn’t help the smile twitching at the corners of his lips as he leaned down to kiss you. He wrapped his big, muscly arms around you and pulled you closer to his chest.
“Makes you dirty?” Bucky said, disbelief evident in his tone before his smile broke into a grin, “Baby, you’re the cleanest, sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.”
He didn’t let you endeavor to protest, just buried his face in your neck and pressed teasing kisses all over the skin while he continued to pump in and out of you. He knew to keep hitting that spot, too.
You were drowning in whimpers and kisses when Bucky brought his lips to your ear.
“Doesn’t make you dirty at all,” he assured you, “Just makes you my wife.”
You clawed Bucky’s back when he sped up a little, and you felt the pleasure soar to even greater heights when he propped your legs above his shoulders—a brand new angle for him to bend you like a pretzel and fuck you good.
“You take this cock too nice to be dirty,” he gritted his teeth and continued to soothe you just how he knew you liked it, “Such a good little wife, sucking up every inch of me like you were made for it.”
Your lips parted in a soft ‘o,’ feeling him plunge the depths of your cunt like he never had before. Bucky slipped his thumb in your mouth while he held your face.
“That what you are, bunny? A good girl?”
You nodded your head and sucked his thumb, feeling yourself fucked dumb as you did. Bucky loved that blissed out look in your eyes.
“Good girl for daddy?” he cooed.
Your ankles trembled around his neck as soon as he said it. You nodded again, yes, you were, and felt a light coil start to form in your lower stomach as Bucky kept pounding you and pushing his thumb between your lips.
Then, with a pop, he plucked the digit from your mouth and brought it down to your clit. He started soft at first, but before long he was rubbing vicious circles on that little bundle of nerves, watching you come undone before his eyes and clench around him even tighter.
“B-Bucky,” you whined, fisting the sheets underneath you both as you squirmed.
“Mhmm?” Your husband pretended to be oblivious.
“I w— I’m gonna—” The words could scarcely leave your lips without finding themselves punctured with a whimper as soon as they were spoken. Bucky thrusted harder.
“Gonna what? Cum for daddy?” he grinned, “Make a mess all over this cock?”
Your moans of pleasure more than sufficed for an answer. You nodded and winced, felt your whole lower half seize with a warm and heady feeling, and before you knew it, Bucky’s thrusts were sending you spiraling over the edge, with a wave of bliss following shortly behind. Sounds of skin slapping skin hardly faltered, and Bucky kept rubbing and fucking you all throughout the waves of your high.
Tears sprung to your eyes, and you didn’t care. Your mind was alight with more bright, fervid feelings than you could count or comprehend, and your body washed over with pleasure.
You clung to Bucky and felt him keep fucking you, even as you shrieked against his skin.
“One more for me, honey.”
You didn’t think that was possible. You had just spilled all over him, squeezing his cock like a vice and screaming his name, and now he wanted it all over again? So soon?
Your fingernails sunk into his arms as he continued to rut into you, and you started to shake your head.
“C-Can’t Bucky, I can’t, I can’t,” you sobbed, tears still streaming down your cheeks.
“Sure you can.”
Your husband had his mouth at your ear again, panting as the pace of his thrusts grew faster. He tilted his body slightly forward so your legs were pushed even higher above you—damn near grazing either side of your head—and pounded you relentlessly.
His voice seemed so calm and assured as he spoke,
“Cum for daddy. Show me just how fucking good this cock makes you feel and cum again for me.”
With a command like that, how could you refuse?
You came a second time, hands seizing Bucky's forearms, and screams tearing through your chest as you rode your high impaled on his cock over and over again. The sights and sounds and repeated, pulsing spasms of your pussy on his shaft sent Bucky chasing his release not long after, and you felt a warmth spread inside you.
Your eyes were filled to the brim with tears, your cheeks practically drenched already. As you came down from your high, you started to blink.
But just as you lifted a hand to sop up the moisture, Bucky was leaning over you and into you with the brightest smile. Then he was kissing each wet, salty stain like it was the most natural thing in the world, sponging soft and gentle touches all over the spots your tears had overflown.
It seemed every nerve ending in your lower half was on the fritz, your body little more than mush underneath him, but somehow you managed to catch his mouth as he traversed the skin. You kissed him back, and Bucky drew you closer.
The two of you separated for a second, Bucky’s cock still resting comfortably inside you and his broad frame engulfing you in bed. He paused a beat. Seemed to consider something in his mind before speaking aloud.
“Honey,” he started, unsure of how he wanted to say this.
You peered up at him, curious. His seed had filled every contour and crevice of your aching walls and was just then starting to dribble out of you. Bucky seemed unfazed. He cupped both hands around your face.
“I love you.”
You blinked. No fucking way you were hearing those words.
“What?” You felt too awestruck to say anything else.
“I love you,” Bucky repeated. A smile was starting to tug at his lips, his thumb tracing your cheek while you stared at him in disbelief.
You would’ve liked to speak.
Would’ve loved to say those three little words right back.
In fact, you had just opened your mouth to tell him that, when a sound at the foot of the bed startled you both.
The warm glow of moonlight pouring in from the window panes was your only means to see it. But sight wasn’t worth much at all when a man appeared and pressed the barrel of a gun to Bucky’s temple, letting out a chuckle.
Another man, clad head-to-toe in polished black tactical gear approached from the far end of the room. Bucky gritted his teeth but remained motionless, hearing that man cock his firearm as well. You were surrounded on either side of the bed. Your blood ran cold.
“Sorry to interrupt the fun, Mr. Barnes,” the man on the left spoke so low and gruff he could scarcely be heard.
When Bucky started to stir, the man on the right raised his pistol as well. Curled his finger on the trigger.
“We haven’t even met your beautiful bride.” A set of cruel, glinting teeth turned in your direction. Suddenly, all eyes were trained on you—along with a third handgun, pointed at your head, as another man approached.
“Wedded bliss treating you well so far, Mrs. Barnes?”
13K notes · View notes
art · 4 months
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Creator Spotlight: @mimimar
Hi! I’m Michelle (Mimimar), an illustrator born and raised in Venezuela, currently based in Italy. I enjoy making colorful illustrations that reflect the things I love: fairy tales, fantasy, tenderness and queer (especially sapphic) stories. Occasionally, I also make paper dolls, comics and animatics. I have a lot of interest in book illustration and I’m currently developing my own stories that I hope to share as an author-illustrator someday!
Check out our interview with Michelle below!
Did you originally have a background in art? If not, how did you start?
I always enjoyed drawing when I was a kid, but it only became a hobby that I did almost every day when I was around 11. At first I only used traditional mediums, but I decided to make a serious effort to learn how to draw digitally when I was 15, and once I got the hang of it I never stopped!
I didn’t go to art school so all of my learning was done through studying the tutorials and resources that other artists generously share on the internet and lots of practice / trial and error.
How do you want to evolve as a creator?
I want to do many things but what I want to do the most right now is work on books! I want to make art for other authors’ stories and also my own stories as an author-illustrator. I want to grow as a storyteller and create art and stories that will really resonate with people emotionally. I’m always striving to improve my skills as well.
I also really love dolls, so working on doll box art or as a doll designer is something I would love to do someday. I actually have been designing paper dolls on my Patreon for the past few months, it’s been a fun project that is still ongoing right now!
What is one habit you find yourself doing a lot as an artist?
Probably using a lot of purple! It’s my favorite color so I find myself using it a lot. If I can find a way to sneak a little bit of purple into an illustration or a character design then I will.
Congratulations on finishing your Ivy Comic! Did the outcome turn out like how you expected or were there some unexpected bumps along the way?
Thank you! It’s a project that I worked on very slowly in between other art because I wanted to really take my time with every spread and make each of them a fully detailed illustration. I thumbnailed the full comic before starting but I kept changing the sketch for the final spread until the very end! Overall I’m really proud of the end result. I sprinkled a lot of hidden details in every page that I hope some of the readers will notice. For example: the meanings of the flowers in each page represent what the characters are feeling in that moment, and the colors of their wardrobe become gradually lighter as the story progresses to represent their emotions, as well as the changing of seasons.
We’ve noticed that you have created some amazing cover art for TGCF. Is there another series you would like to do something similar with? 
That was another passion project that took some time to complete. Initially, I didn’t intend for them to be specifically covers, it was just a series of illustrations based on the 5 books/main arcs of TGCF. But since they were well-received and I had people telling me they wish they could use them as covers for their books, I decided to rework them into dust jackets for the english translation of TGCF!
I haven’t thought of any other specific series but I love doing cover art so maybe I’ll do something similar again in the future!
What’s your favorite part of your style? Why?
I’ve heard from other people that there’s a delicate quality to my art, this is something that I like a lot! I like pretty things, fairytales and vibrant colors. I think all of these things probably reflect in the art I make as well.
If there is one thing you want your audience to remember about your work, what would it be?
I hope that they remember how it made them feel. Feelings and colors are the two things I give priority to in my work. Most of the time I like depicting tenderness, softness and emotional intimacy. If that could reach the viewer and stay with them it would make me very happy. 
I make a lot of art with queer (mainly sapphic) themes because they’re the kind of stories I personally like and want to see more of, so whenever people tell me that my art has helped them in their journey to discover and accept themselves, or that they see themselves and their partner in my art, it is always extremely meaningful to me. When art that I made to give myself comfort can provide comfort for others, no matter how small, it reminds me once again that despite any hardships art is genuinely worth pursuing.
Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?
So many artists! To name a few:  I love @sakizo’s amazing eye for fashion and detail,  @paneeps’ gorgeous style and striking colors,  the sweetness of @bevsi’s art,  @vickisigh’s pretty colors and concepts,  @idledee’s warm and heartfelt art,  @littlestpersimmon’s dreamy wonderful art,  and @loish has been an inspiration for as long as I can remember.
Thank you so much for stopping by and sharing, Michelle! Be sure to check out their Tumblr blog over at @mimimar.
2K notes · View notes
patdkoala · 1 year
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I Don't Hate You
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
Warning: Angst, enemies to lovers, smut, nicknames (Doll and Charming), unprotected p in v, masturbation (Fem), Oral (Fem receiving)
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I'm not entirely convinced that Bucky doesn't hate me.
His resting face is also his angry face. And he's always looking at me in that tone.
Like right now. He was just sitting there staring at me.
"What?" I asked while looking up at him.
"Nothing, just... thinking."
"About?"
"You wouldn't want to know."
Now what the fuck is that supposed to mean?
"Try me," I said to try and get something, anything, out of him.
"Don't push it, kid."
Oh, I hate it when he calls me that.
I grit my teeth. "Fine, don't tell me. I don't care anymore.
"Fine by me." His tone was sharp. He spoke with such anger towards me and I didn't know what I ever did to him.
Bucky is handsome, sure. He's tall and largely built. The metal arm alone scares away almost everyone.
But there is something about him that I find incredibly charming.
But in a stuck-up asshole Prince Charming way.
"Whatever, Charming," I sneered back at him.
Bucky scoffed when I called him that. "Charming?"
"Yeah, you know because you are a jerk like Prince Charming," I said as I got up from the couch and poured myself a drink.
"Hey, at least I own up to it. Unlike some people, who think they're God's gift to womankind," He said as I nearly killed him right then and there.
"I AM! Have you seen this ass? And my tits? These are fantastic. You just wish you were one of the many men I have that get to touch me."
"You're as shallow as a kiddie pool."
"Confident. I'm confident. Not my fault you cry when you look in the mirror."
He sighed and I could have sworn I saw a hint of a smile. "I don't know why I waste my time with you. I could find a rock with more personality than you."
I had had it with him. He is such an asshole.
"Why do you hate me?"
"I don't hate you. Hating you would mean I loved you at one point and grew to hate you. I can't stand you."
"Wow. Fantastic. How about I go outside and help you find a rock with a great personality?"
"Be my guest."
I set down my drink and walked towards the door. He was standing in front of it.
"Oh, you have got to be kidding me. What are you doing?"
"Getting a rock. What does it look like?"
"No you're not," He said in a stern tone.
"What are you saying?" I was so confused. First, he wants the rock. Now he doesn't.
"You're not going outside to find a rock," He said it but it felt like a demand.
"I'm not?"
"No. You are not."
"Are you asking me not to? Or telling me not to?"
"I'm telling you."
oh
My breath caught in my throat as he just stared at me. There he was. Again. Just staring at me.
"What is going on in that mind of yours?" I asked with actual curiosity.
"You really wanna know?" He asked as interest peaked in me.
I couldn't even speak I was so excited. I just nodded like a mindless bimbo.
He got closer only to whisper, "I'm trying to figure out why in the hell I haven't left you in the middle of the woods yet."
Asshole.
I pushed him back against the door but not in a flirty way. More of a shove before storming off.
He doesn't even flinch. He just glares at me as I storm off.
I go to my room to cool off. I obviously like him but he doesn't like me and I am just going to have to deal with it.
I decided to work out. I needed to get this fire out of my system. I blasted my music into my headphones as I started my routine.
The workout wasn't working. I needed to matters into my own hands. Or, hand.
I made sure my door was locked and when I did I saw Bucky in the living room doing push-ups. He was trying to cool off as well.
I am going to make his life very hard. Well, and something else.
I sat on my bed and slipped a hand into my shorts. I started off slow but then built up tension.
My fingers felt nice but they weren't him.
"Oh, Bucky~" I moaned quietly as I came.
That was when I heard the knock.
I got up and opened the door.
"I hope you didn't think I didn't hear anything."
"Oh, but I was intentionally being loud for you, Charming." I smiled as I raised an eyebrow.
He rolled his eyes. "Of course you were."
"Is there a problem?"
"Yes, actually."
"What is it now? Gonna tell me how much you hate me? How much you wish I was dead? Or maybe-" "I was just going to ask that you keep it down when you finger yourself."
"Seriously? That's it? No snide comments?"
"Don't temp me."
"Oh, but it's my favorite thing to do!" I whined.
He just stared at me. Again. So, I stared back. He turned around and walked away. I rolled my eyes and followed him.
"Do you seriously have to follow me everywhere?"
"No. But I just want you to tell me the truth." I said as I followed after him.
"What truth? That you're a pain in my ass? That I want nothing more than to ditch you?"
I was actually hurt this time. "Is that actually true?"
"Yes. Yes, it is."
"Because I need you to be very honest with me, Barnes. If that is really how you feel then I will just head out and you will never have to see me ever again."
"Fucking guilt-tripping. You're not gonna leave, and you know it."
"Watch me." I felt the fire inside me rise.
"Oh please, spare me. I know you. You wouldn't make it a week on your own."
I rolled my eyes. "And why is that? Why do you think I need you all the time?" I was practically screaming at him at this point.
"You are the most dependent person I have ever met. You would die without me."
I thought for a second. "No. No, I think it's the other way around. You'd die without me and you just don't want to admit it. I swear you are such an asshole."
"And I think you are in denial. That's why you cling to me so much because you hate being alone with yourself."
I scoff. "I think you are forgetting how okay I was with myself not too long ago in that bedroom in my own hands."
"Oh yes. I remember. You were so "okay" you were grunting and groaning for half an hour." He paused and took a breath. "You want the truth? I'll give it to you. Right now. You're a spoiled, ungrateful, whiny, little bitch," He said I was slightly taken aback but I didn't flinch.
"Oh, come on. Say it like you mean it." I roll my eyes one last time.
"You'll be back here in a day you useless piece of-"
"Save it. I'm leaving."
"Fine."
I went to my room and honest to God packed a bag.
I went back towards the front door and saw that Bucky hadn't moved. I lifted my hand to the handle. I was going so slow a snail could have stopped me.
I wanted Bucky to speak up and say something. Stop me from leaving. But he just stood there.
Then he cleared his throat.
"Oh, this should be good. What is it now?"
"Please... don't go..."
I was speechless.
"Give me one reason. One honest reason to stay," I finally spoke.
"Because..." he doesn't continue.
"Exactly. That's why I'm leaving. You only want to fight me when I'm here but you won't fight for me to stay."
"Don't go. Please," He said in a breathy sentence.
"Why?"
"Because I don't want you to go."
I didn't know what to say. He was just staring at me. Again. I swear to God this guy has got a problem.
Except this time he looked vulnerable.
Helpless.
Needy.
"Are you asking me to stay? Or telling me."
"I'm fucking begging you."
I dropped my bag and turned around so that I was standing closer to him. It was taking everything in me not to pounce on this man and rip his clothes off of him.
We were so close that I felt his breath hitch.
Say something God Damnit!
He didn't say a thing.
He grabbed me by the waist and pulled me into a kiss.
"I- I thought you hated me," I said in a breathless sentence.
"I do." He said as he brought his mouth to my neck.
I moaned as he touched me so feverly. I had never felt something like this before.
The passion. The rage. The fire.
He pulled me closer as if it was even fucking possible, and he started to kiss down my collarbone.
"Bedroom- the bedroom-" I stuttered out.
Bucky smiled in a way I had never seen before. He had mischief in his eyes. He picked me up and carried me to my room.
He put me on the bed and crawled on top of me.
Mother fucking Bucky Barnes was crawling on top of me.
He held our gaze as he removed my shorts and soaked panties.
He held our gaze as he moved to the edge of the bed and sunk his teeth into my inner thigh.
The only time he looked away was when his head was too far buried in my cunt to even notice his surroundings.
I tugged on his hair and tried to pull him closer. I was so close to coming and we were only on that bed for maybe 6 minutes.
"I know, Doll," He said as chills went down my spine.
I wanted more.
"Mhmmm," I moaned out at the empty feeling as he got off me and then he removed his shirt.
I sat up and ran a hand down his chest.
The muscles.
The scars.
The happy trail.
The sweat.
I wanted to lick him.
As my hand was gliding down his glistening chest, he removed his belt and pants.
He was so hard that part of him was poking out of his boxers.
"That looks painful," I said as he slowly pushed me back onto the bed.
"You have no idea what I have been going through all day today," He said as he pushed his knee between my legs to spread them apart.
"All day?" I questioned.
"When you asked me what was on my mind while I was staring at you from the couch. I was thinking about how hard my dick was and what it would feel like inside you," He said as he moved his boxers down just enough to get free.
I kissed him roughly and bit his bottom lip as he lowered himself into me softly so I could adjust to his size.
He then held onto one of my legs. "What-"
"I need to get a better angle." He said as I felt like I was splitting apart.
I moaned so loud as he started thrusting into me. Hard.
His hips snapped so fast and the whole bed shook.
He was the one grunting and groaning now.
"Oh, Bucky~" I moaned out again but this time with him inside me. Happily.
"No, use the nickname," He said as I smiled. "I did. Bucky-" He stuck a finger inside just to hit my clit.
"Charming!" I yelped out as felt myself getting closer and closer.
His hips started faltering and my legs were starting to tremble.
"I- 'm close Doll," Bucky moaned out as I sat up a little more so he could really get up in there.
"Me too, Charming," I said as his eyes rolled to the back of his head. I think I hit a nerve with that last one.
I moaned so loudly as I came around him. He came very soon after. I think the feeling of me pulsing around him was too much for him.
He pulled out and then cleaned us off with the henley he had thrown off.
He laid down next to me and pulled me close so my back was to his chest.
"Do you still want me to go find you a rock?" I asked as he laughed.
"You are insufferable."
2K notes · View notes
ak319 · 9 days
Text
Lovesick bubbly hubby x fem reader
ミ☆Headcanon#2𓏲
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♥︎Headcanon #1
🍭"Please, please, please, Coco!" You’ve barely woken up from an afternoon nap as you felt a weight on top of you, and he's at it again.
Yawning, you reach for your phone to check the time. "Go make some tea/coffee first, for God's sake." This boy can be relentless. You patted his hips from the side which he swatted.
"No! First, you went to work, then you didn’t listen to me at lunch because you were too tired to talk about it, and now you're tired again!"
"Do you even realize how hard I work--- for you?! A more understanding spouse would be caring, but no! You always have something to nag about whenever I get home!" Your words hit him like a brick, and his lips quivered, making you instantly regret your harsh tone.
You reached out to grab his hand, but he started to walk away. "Hey," you quickly got up and gently pulled him back to sit on the bed. "I--I apologize, okay? I just woke up. I’m a bit cranky. Don’t cry."
You wiped his tears, cupping his soft face. Damn, he's so delicate. Like a fragile doll. Those expensive appointments and the skincare stuff he orders really pay off, even if your bank account is bleeding because of it.
"Okay, so. I have told you this before Narin baby-"
"I want, no, need that popcorn machine! It's so cute! And perfect for our movie night! I need it, I NEED IT FOR US!"
"Fine! Fine, fuck, you can buy it--" He didn't even wait for you to finish before dashing out of the room, probably already placing the order. Another one of his wishes granted.
You closed your eyes and leaned back against the headboard, mentally tallying the things he'd cried over this month alone. Let’s see...
Matching colored outfits.
A road trip you took him on the weekend because one of your cousins had ruined his mood, leading to another silent tantrum.
A (cat/dog) he wanted, which he named Prince. They’re cute, so you didn’t mind. You’d always kind of wanted a pet yourself.
A full-length mirror because apparently, "Cocooooo, we need a bigger mirror in the bedroom! How am I supposed to see my whole outfit if it’s only half my size? Pretty pleeease? It’ll make the room look bigger, too!"
So, yeah, you’re broke now.
Sigh.
"Narin? My tea/coffee?!"
"Coming right up my Coco!" came the response. Right, he’s back to his usual self. Good for him....and you, the thought made you chuckle softly. Wait..does this make you a simp?
"....."
Shopping with him is both delightful and a bit chaotic. He’s a joy to watch as he tries on those adorable outfits for you, but the process can test your patience. He lingers in the cosmetics shop, lost in the thrill of finding the perfect product, while you pass the time reading ingredient lists to ensure he’s not using something toxic. Every time you take the products from his hands with that focused, caring expression, his heart skips a beat. It’s become such a sweet routine that now he instinctively hands you the items before placing them in the basket, a little smirk playing on his lips.
🍭 "No, Narin. You can’t have more of these. And don’t you throw a tantrum here." You abruptly stopped the cart.
"But it’s so cosy! And adorable!" He jumped like a little kid clinging to your arm.
"You have so many plushies already. No more." Your tone was firm and unyielding this time, and he knew well that he had been a handful over the past few days. 'Aww, my poor wifey. Let’s give her a break.' Besides, he knew better than to argue when you used that tone. It was both intense and irresistible, making him want to both be under you and hide under a blanket at the same time.
"Okay, Coco~." He gently took your arm and leaned his head on your shoulder. "I’m sorry." He hoped his infamous pout would work--after all, it always did.
"Good boy." For the rest of the grocery shopping, he remained in a daze, almost as if he were floating in a trance. If he were a fairy, he’d be dazzling with disco lights and fluttering about in a frenzy. He's definitely going to wear that new silk night-robe tonight.
It was another weekend dinner with your family, and he always hated when you brought him here. He’d much rather be at home with you, enjoying some quality alone time—A-L-O-N-E. He only came for your sake. He just couldn’t let you come alone, who knew what nonsense they might spout about him? Absolutely no chance he was going to let that happen. He’s Narin for a reason. Your Narin. The hell he is giving them a chance to destroy his perfect life. To let anyone steal you away from him. That's why he even put a tracker on your phone.
🍭"(Y/N), I asked your father to bring these chicken rolls from that bakery you love," your mother said, breaking the silence.
"Mhm, they taste different." You took a bite to confirm your suspicions. "Maybe it’s because I’ve gotten used to homemade ones now, these taste a bit foreign to me, haha! Narin makes them really well."
It must be the answer to his prayers--or the result of his good deeds--that his wife is now praising him in front of her family. Just look at their faces! Hahaha! Take that. He smiled smugly as he now enjoyed the dinner to the fullest.
But you see, Narin isn’t always kind with food, he uses it as a weapon against you--sometimes offense, sometimes defense. Well, mostly offense.
🍭Your whole life feels like it's flashing before your eyes. 'Just get through this, (Y/N). You’ve survived worse. Just one more bite.'
"Um, cough don't you th--cough think it’s a bit too spi--cough icy, baby?"
Narin merely shrugged nonchalantly and slurped his slush. Oh, he definitely knows.
"No, I added them precisely,"
You wiped your eyes. Right. Precisely my ass, you little brat.
Just because you talked on the phone with a colleague for too long the night before, discussing work, you’re now stuck with this dinner. How is that even your fault? Before you could take another sip of water, Narin plopped down on your lap with a pouty expression.
"Do you not love me anymore?"
"....", you are literally dying here and this is what this boy's asking?
He shook you by your collar, now crying. "TELL ME! WHO IS TAKING YOUR ATTENTION THESE DAYS!?"
"I DO! I LOVE-" You grabbed the glass from behind him and downed it in one swift motion. God, you can breathe now. "I...only love you, baby.."
His giggles filled the room, making Prince wag it's tail too. "I love you too! So don't ever forget it, professor. Now, let's order something!"
The audacity.
Sigh. #youdon'tevenfuckingknowatthispoint
Narin LOATHES, when you grade papers into the middle of the night while he’s left alone in the cold bed. Eventually, he can’t take it anymore and ends up sleeping on your lap, both of you dozing off together on the living room lounge. And let’s not forget the trips you sometimes have to make for educational conferences. He stays at his parents' place with Prince while you’re out working--and maybe… maybe having an AFFAIR?! No, no, no, not on his watch! You are getting blocked and he's not coming back home if you don't answer or call him daily. At breakfast , lunch and dinner or he's going to raise an havoc.
🍭"Coco, show me your room," he said softly, snuggled into your pillow he brought from home, as you were about to doze off during the call. He was also wearing your hoodie, trying to envelop himself in its warmth, feeling close to you even from afar.
"Um, why?"
"You know whyyyy. You know it very well." He blinked innocently however his tone that of a little vexed feline. You understood his underlying concern and resisted the urge to sigh at his whining as you showed him the room. "There, no one here. No one here who you’d describe as more beautiful than you or some student."
"But you missed the bathroom! And under the bed, and also the closet! AND THE BALCONY! DO NOT THINK I AM DUMB!" It’s going to be a long night, and at this point, you’re wishing you could jump off the hotel balcony.
♥︎Bonus Preggo Narin
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angel-of-the-moons · 2 months
Note
Marc x reader smut where reader is down in the dumps and is getting insecure of not being good enough (compared to Layla) and hates that but can’t help it so Marc figures this out and fucks the insecurity outta reader?
More Than Enough
Marc Spector x Fem!Reader (Implied Steven/Jake x Reader)
TW/CW: NSFW, Smut, Feelings of inadequacy, unprotected PiV, Mirror Sex, Praise, Mostly-clothed sex, Marc has a few of his own issues and is not a licensed psychologist
MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME
A/N: I am so sorry this has been sitting in my ask box for so goddamn long, enjoy the word vomit aksbldbldbld
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You knew it was a stupid thing to worry about, your insecurity. You felt... sub-par.
Compared to other people, compared to other women, compared to... her.
You could tell they had something special at one point, something almost-unbreakable. But then the issue with Steven realizing who he was, hunting Harrow, fighting Ammit, finding out Marc was there when her father was murdered... Jake goddamn Lockley...
Layla el Faouly was, honestly, a head-turner. She was funny, smart, beautiful and had a way of getting people to open up to her.
Even you, to a point. But you still felt inadequacy, even a bit of envy when it came to Layla. She was with Marc for so long--hell they had been married!
You couldn't keep lying to yourself, and you couldn't keep lying to them. So... You came clean. And the look Marc gave you made you wilt.
It was even worse because he was silent. You couldn't bear to be under his scrutiny so you turned around and wrapped your arms around yourself, staring into the floor-length mirror with a mixture of shame and embarrassment.
Your eyes darted towards Marc's reflection. At first, you thought he was looking at you; but then you realized he was having a mental conversation with Steven and Jake about the situation. You wished you could be privy to those conversations, worrying about any possible arguments that may be waging behind his eyes.
Your shoulders drop and you sigh, eyes closing. "Just--forget I said anything? Please, I'm sorry that I..."
Your eyes open and you instinctively gasp--Marc was standing right behind you, his dark and stormy eyes locking with that of your reflection's. "M-Marc--"
"You fuckin' kidding me, doll?" Marc asked you, frowning. The tone of his voice alone made you wince.
"I--I'm sorry, I shouldn't have..." You try.
"Damn right you shouldn't have."
You squeeze your eyes shut once more, hating yourself as that stone of regret pings around in your belly.
That is, until he growled, hands bunching your shirt at your waist, yanking you against him, his lips barely curling into a snarl at your ear, "Cause that's my girlfriend you're fucking talking about."
You shiver, a small gasp coming from you as Marc's mouth was on your throat; licking, kissing, mouthing away at your skin, making goosebumps prickle across your body.
His mouth comes to a halt for a split second, his eyes focusing on his reflection once more; "...Right. Our girlfriend."
He takes a small bit of your skin between his teeth and nips; "And we know for a fact that our girlfriend isn't doubting for a single fucking second if she's "good enough" for us."
"I... I just..." You babble as his grip goes white-knuckled in your shirt.
You gasp loudly when he grips just a fraction tighter and rips your shirt open, the buttons flying in different directions in the room, skittering across the floor to be hidden until Steven's next "cleaning day" spree.
"M-Marc! My shirt--"
"Is hidin' you. Gotta show you what you're blind to, baby." He muttered against your skin, his hands spreading over your belly, one going up to pluck at the bra you wore. It wasn't fancy or sexy by any means. Just one of those stretchy, mesh, wire-free ones you opted to wear when you didn't want your skin irritated by the wires and elastics fo your typical ones.
"Wearing Steven's favorite one, today." Marc hisses in your ear, groping at one of your breasts through the fabric, running his thumb over the bump of your nipple as your heart begins to pound.
"I... I didn't--"
"Wanna know why he likes it?" Marc asked, biting onto your earlobe, grabbing the loops of your jeans to tug you against him; allowing him to grind the growing bulge of his cock against the curve of your ass.
One of his fingers pluck the stretchy fabric, letting it go to ever so slightly smack against your skin; "Because it don't fucking hurt you. Because, it looks way more natural--way more comfortable."
He chuckles warmly, a soft smile playing on his lips, "That, and the way that they bounce more in this bra than the others tends to distract him, too. Makes these," His index finger swirles over the bump of your nipple once more. "way more visible."
Shame and the heat of your self-esteem make your cheeks flush, and you look away. Marc frowned stubbornly, "Baby..."
"Marc, I don't think that I'm..."
He growled again, the typical sound that came from him when he was frustrated. He'd never used it on you, before; so the sound made a thrill run down your spine.
He shoves his hand from your bra to the front of your pants, yanking the button open and pulling your fly down. He hastily shoved the denim down your thighs, revealing your soft, lacy panties.
They were a dark gray color, with bits of green and red--vines and roses across the lace. They left very little to the imagination, but they were so soft sometimes you'd forget you were wearing any at all.
"Damn, baby... wearin' Jake's favorite, too?" He grinned against the skin of your shoulder, staring down your reflection with the hardened gaze of a soldier sighting down his target.
His rough and calloused hand stroked over the fabric, his fingers dipping low to tease the seam of your panties, feeling a damp spot that was slowly spreading. It never failed; you were light a string in a guitar, waiting to be plucked so the most melodious of tunes would come from your weet lips.
Marc continued to stroke your damp panties for a moment, humming against your soft skin. "Wanna know what the favorite thing that you're wearin'?"
"Wh-what?" You breathe.
Marc withdrew his hand and gently encapsulated your fragile wrist in his fingers, holding your left hand up, where a gold ring was snugly fit around your ring finger; "This. This here means that you're mine. That you're ours. So don't you think for a minute that you're second-best, that you're not good enough for us."
In that moment, you felt stupid all over again. How could you forget? The weight of the ring felt so obvious to you, now. Marc's fingers caress the cool metal, smiling in a gentle way at your hand.
"Baby, you gotta understand... You're right."
Your heart thudded against the delicate cage of your ribs as he let that sentence hang in the air, keeping you in suspense.
"You're not Layla. You're nothin' like her." He continued, "You're you. You're funny, you're soft-spoken, you have a habit of always finding animals to play with and pet when we go out... And that little giggle-snort you do when you laugh so hard you're outta breath? All. You. We fucking love every single goddamn piece of you, baby. So... Please stop comparing yourself to Layla... If you keep doing that, you'll just tear yourself up inside until you're all hollow. Believe me, I did it so much that... well, you know what happened."
He brings your hand up and kisses your knuckles, "And we can't have you falling apart on us... you're the closest thing we have to normal... we need you."
Your heart squeezed in your chest and you sniffled, feeling tears well up in your eyes as your lip wobbled. Lingering feelings of doubt still clung to your subconscious, even in the face of all of Marc's affirmations, "But... but I don't feel like I'm good enough, Marc... Sometimes... sometimes I just feel so useless, and..."
Marc grunts, the sound coming from his nose in a hefty exhale as he drops your hand. "Alright... Maybe you need a little extra convincing."
You almost turn, confused by what he meant, when his hand flattened between your shoulders, shoving you against the mirror so your hands were spread across the reflective glass.
"M-Marc--!"
"Shush, and don't you stop looking at that mirror. Want you to see how fuckin' pretty you are while I fuck you." He murmurs, leaning back to undo his own jeans, hastily shoving the and his boxers down to free his cock, red and throbbing.
His rolled his hips against you, his cock grinding against the soft lace of your panties, smearing a small droplet of precum onto the fabric. Marc lifted his eyes to lock with yours in the mirror.
"Don't look at me, baby. Already told you."
Your breath leaves you in a stutter, your eyes dragging down to look at your own flushed face; your parted lips and torn shirt, your breasts heaving, the soft fabric stretched across them as their soft weight swayed and bounced as Marc maneuvered your body.
He slides your underwear off to the side, gripping the base of his shaft as he slides the tip of his cock through your budding wetness. Your eyes go wide when you feel his tip catch at your entrance, and you barely have a moment to breathe as he slams his hips against you, sinking inside of your body in one fluid thrust.
The stretchy was sudden; the lack of proper preparation left you with a stinging sensation that battled evenly with the pleasure of having his thick cock settle deep inside of you as he pressed against you; the dark hairs at the base of his cock tickled the skin of your ass.
"Baby, you're--fuck." He whined, his brows creasing as a stray curl falls over his forehead as he bows forward, relishing in the moment how good it felt to have your soft, velvety heat wrap and cling around him.
"Shit, honey." Marc sighed after what felt like eons; his hands stroking and gripping the flesh of your ass in his meaty palms. "You're like fuckin' heaven..."
He pulled back once, and slammed back in, making you cry out as the burn and ecstasy once more fight each-other in a bare-handed brawl; making your eyes roll back and flutter closed. God, why did it feel so good?
His mouth was at your ear, his voice tight and strained as he rocked his hips into yours, his cock sliding in and out of you easier and easier as the pleasure began to mount; tickling your spine. "...and I should know, angel..." Marc grunted. "I was in heaven for a little while..."
"Marc..." You whimpered, dropping your head as he began to pound into you, your chest burning with every heavy breath you took as Marc roughly crammed his cock inside of you, pressing hard on every single spot inside that had your head swimming with euphoria.
"Gh--fuck!" Marc barked, grabbing a fistful of your hair (carefully, ind you, he didn't want to hurt you at all) and pulled your head back so he could see your face, "I told you... watch yourself, baby. Don't look away."
You hiccup. Marc was fucking you so roughly from behind that you were almost concerned the pressure you were putting on the mirror would shatter it.
"That's it..." Marc groaned, his eyes rolling back with a blissful sigh as he tipped his head back.
You could see his Adam's apple bob, his jaw tighten as he fucked into you like a rutting dog. His hand lets your hair go and slides down your back, beneath the fabric of your torn shirt to caress the curve and contour of your spine.
Marc's eyes meet yours in the reflection, and his lips quirk up as he gives you another sharp thrust; your voice punching out of you in a breathless cry.
"Baby... do I gotta tell you again?" He sighed, gripping you by the back of your elbows and yanking you upright against him, so your back was pressed against his chest.
You groaned in bliss as you felt him shift inside of you. This position was new... and not unpleasant.
One of his hands curls around you, gripping your chin and jerking your head up, snarling in your ear; "Fuckin' watch, baby."
Your eyes slide down, and between your spread legs, your panties hastily shoved aside... You could see Marc's cock pull out almost to the tip before he slammed his hips up, rutting up into you in another frantic thrust.
"'m gonna show you how fuckin' good you are to us... Even if it means I gotta prove it to you all night long."
He slammed into you once more, his lips curling against your ear as he watches himself disappear inside of you.
"Even if Steven and Jake gotta take over after. I'm done with you."
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g1rlw1th0n33ye3 · 4 days
Text
When the sun goes down.
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Summary ~ Aegon Targaryen II x reader ( no use of y/n cause noo) Aegon finds out something unexpected during his most recent visit to the street of silk.
Warnings- Dubious consent, Drunk sex, its Smut so like yuh know 🧍🏽‍♀️
Also, this is my first fic ever so be nice, please!! I had a day off and a bottle of pink Whitney so here we are! I hope you enjoy also Aegon isn't complete scum of the earth in this story because no that face to pretty for that bad writing and he's not married either Helena and Jace are married and the twins are Jace's kids instead of Aegon's for plot reasons ok enjoy my baby dolls and lemme know if you want a part two!! 🫡
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The hour was late as Aegon made his way through the tunnels of Megors holdfast intent on getting to the street of silk as fast as he could he needed something to destress after another unbearably dreadful family dinner they'd been happening more frequently since Helena had given birth to another baby boy this one with bright white hair unlike the two twin babes heads full of brown curls like there father she had given birth to two years earlier it seems his mother has finally accepted that the delusional idea of annulling the marriage was no longer possible now the two sides would favor being intertwined whether she liked or not though her new urge for family dinners to try and bring the family together prove her delusion is not fully gone. Aegon thinks to himself as he slides himself past the guards. Dressed in his usual common clothes disguised for sneaking about so as not to raise any suspicion to the roaming gold cloaks he kept his hood placed high on his head to hide his white tresses as he bobbed and weaved through the huddles of small folk through the streets of flea bottom till he reached his favorite brothel on the street of silk though he hadn't frequented it in awhile a new brothel full of women from Essos had been keeping him otherwise occupied but tonight he wished to be in the place he called closest to home as he entered hood down looking a disheveled mess the madam had immediately come up to him ready to shoo him off till he took off his hood white hair flowing freely that she stopped in her place and instead ushered over the cupbearer and grabbed a glass of wine from the girls tray and holding it out for Aegon
" my prince we haven't been graced with your presence in some time what a pleasure what can i do for you this fine night my prince" the madam spoke with almost an unnerving smile Aegon looked about the room taking it all in before speaking to the madam "I don't know about a fine night but just keep sending pretty girls to fill my cup for me and I'm sure soon it will be " he said before grabbing the wine and making his way to the pile of pillows and blankets strown around a little make shift stage with a dancer atop as he settled down and began chugging his wine beginning to feel the effects of his drink the whole room starting to feel like a warm mix of colors when he finally gazes upon the dancer he's settled Infront of taking in her beautiful face and body adorned in jewels she looked strangely familiar like a face he new but hadn’t seen in a long time the longer he watched you move the more he feel like he was falling into a dream the way you danced around swirling silk scarves in every direction pulling him in that mixed with his cup of wine the bar maids made sure to never let empty he was sure he was in a dream now, he was suddenly snapped out of his trance when he saw you dismount your makeshift stage and make your way for the stairs that led to the back rooms where the girls slept men weren’t allowed back there cause that’s where many of the other girls left the children to sleep while they worked if he didn’t get to you now you he would be out of luck for the rest of the night, he quickly got up and moved as fast as his drunk limbs would carry himself to get to you before you slipped through his grasp “ you there stop “ he said somehow out of breath from simply getting up to cross the room .
Stopping in your place as you adjust your robe you had finished your final dance of the night and were ready to rest your tired legs on your bed when you hear some drunk fool calling out behind you surly following you to ask for a night of your company though your surprised when you turn and are instead met with a drunken prince falling over himself to get to you. “ My prince i was just about to retire to my chambers but i’d be happy to find you another to serve you for the night” you say forcing a smile on your face “ you look familiar have we met before though i don’t think i would have forgot a night with someone as enticing as you” he whispers the honey laced words to you as he comes closer you try to back up to keep a respectable distance but he’s right on your tale “ y…yes my prince we did spend a night together some three years ago i was much different looking then so it’s understandable your memory fails you and well you were also quiet drunk m’prince “ you reveal hoping it will get him off your back men rarely want the same thing twice in a place like this a shame “ a shame i can’t recall though it just gives us more reason to make new ones “ he’s says leaning in to whisper in your ear his warm breath the smelled of honeyed wined fanning your face words catching in your throat at the way he pressed his nose to the side or your face to breathe in your smell “ I’m sorry to disappoint M’ prince but i’m just a dancer now my company is unfortunately not for sale and the madam would be upset with me for taking client from her actual girls but id be happy to help you find one of them “ you feel him pull away at your words a grunge pained on his face “ I didn’t ask for some other girl i asked to spend my time with you and i don’t see the madam here making sure her costumers are tended to so why don’t we just keep it between us and i give you all this gold i have here one this sack and this here “ he says handing you a fully stuffed bag of gold dragons and the golden ring that adorned his middle finger your jaw particularly drops at the sight of all the gold “ for you just for you not the madam what she knows won’t hurt her and will certainly help you “ he says with a mischievous glint to his eyes you look back down at the small fortune he’s handed you it nearly enough to get you out of this dreadful city
“we can do whatever you want “ he speaks one more time trying to convince you a hopefull drunk sloppy smile painted on his face even you can’t deny is charming “ I… alright”
You led him down the stairs by the hand to your small chambers at the very end of the long hall that held all of you and all the other girls' rooms you quickly pulled him in and turned to lock the door to avoid any prying eyes though it was unlikely anybody would be around at this hour non of the other girls usually made it back to there chambers before the sunrise when you turned from the door you found him sat at the edge of your bed taking off his heavy boots and placing them to the side before getting up and beginning his exploration of your room " did you spend all that coin just to gaze upon my perfumes and lotions " you finally speak trying to break the tension, he chuckles to himself before speaking " Mayhaps I did i mean I did say we could do whatever you wanted so you tell me what I paid for " he says looking at you with that tempting smirk of his " Whatever you'd like to m' prince" you say as you remove your robe to be only left in your dancing clothes if they could even be called that it was two simple strips of silk one covering your breasts and one covering your bottom all connected with a strip of jewels to make a sheer dress. You watch as he watches you as you remove your robe before stalking over to you trapping you between the door and himself. The moment Aegon pinned you between the door and himself, the air crackled with an electric tension. His violet eyes gleamed with mischief as they took in the sight of you, draped in the delicate silk of your attire, expertly designed to entice. “Call me Aegon,” he said softly, his voice low and enticing. “There's no need for formality here, pretty girl.” You tilted your head slightly, a playful smile gracing your lips. “Aegon,” you replied, letting his name roll off your tongue with a hint of teasing. It felt daring, refreshing, in a world filled with whispers and expectations. “What do you want?” he asked, leaning in just a fraction closer, his breath warm against your skin. You could feel the weight of his presence, drawing you in like a moth to a flame. A smirk danced across your face as you countered, “What do you want, Aegon?” It was a bold question, not typically asked of a prince, but you had learned to navigate these encounters with a blend of charm and confidence. He paused, a glimmer of surprise flashing in his eyes. “I want to know you—beyond what I see in this place. For tonight, I want to escape the constraints of my title and be just a man in your presence.” Your heart raced at his words, intrigued by this unexpected vulnerability. “Then let’s embrace that freedom together,” you suggested, eager for an evening untethered from convention. With a swift, graceful movement, you stepped closer, the silk of your dress brushing against him. “I must admit, I don’t often get to entertain a prince,” you said, your voice rich with playful mischief. Aegon chuckled, clearly delighted by your banter. “I’m not like the others, I assure you.”
As the tense atmosphere thickened between you, you could feel your pulse quickening. Every heartbeat echoed the electric pull between you—a magnetic attraction that begged to be explored. “Can I…?” he began, hesitation lacing his voice as he searched your eyes for permission.You nodded, breath catching in your throat. “Please,” you whispered, excitement pooling in your stomach. Aegon leaned in, capturing your lips with his in a soft but eager kiss. The taste of him sent shivers racing through your body, igniting a flame of desire that radiated from your core. You melted against him, feeling his warmth envelop you as he deepened the kiss.His hands found your waist, fingers sliding under the silk of your dress, caressing your skin with a slow, tantalizing touch. You gasped into his mouth, a mixture of surprise and longing coursing through you.
“Beautiful ,” he murmured against your lips, his breath hot as he pulled back just enough to search your eyes. With a surge of confidence, you leaned in, kissing him again, more fervently this time, deepening the connection that was rapidly spiraling into something primal. You could feel his heartbeat racing alongside yours, the tension thickening in the space around you. As he kissed you, his hands traveled further up your sides, gripping your waist with a firm but gentle hold. You arched into him, yearning for more, your body responding instinctively. Aegon used the momentum to press you back against the wall, the solid surface grounding you as he pressed his body closer, molding you against him. “Do you want this?” he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear, igniting a rush of desire. “Yes,” you breathed, feeling the heat flush your cheeks. “I want you.” His gaze ignited with hunger at your words, and he captured your lips again, kissing you deeply, as if he were trying to consume you whole. “Let’s move to the bed,” he suggested, voice gravelly as he pulled back, clearing the space to carry you. Without waiting for an answer, he swept you off your feet, lifting you into his arms effortlessly. You gasped, your heart racing as he carried you to your simple bed draped in soft, inviting silks to seem more lavish . He gently laid you down on the mattress, hovering above you, his violet eyes burning with fervor. The anticipation making your body ache for his touch as Aegon slipped lower, trailing kisses along your body. He kissed down your neck, over your collarbone, and down to the swell of your breasts, but he didn’t stop there. His eyes darkened with desire as he made his way down your torso, his lips leaving a trail of fire in their wake. “Let me taste you,” he murmured, glancing up at you for permission. The intense anticipation made your breath hitch, and all you could do was nod, overwhelmed by the way he looked at you, like a man starved.
He nestled between your legs, and as he kissed the soft skin of your inner thigh, your body tingled with excitement. The heat of his breath against your most sensitive areas made you squirm, the anticipation driving you wild. With teasing slowness, Aegon’s mouth found your core. The moment his tongue made contact lapping t your senstive bud, a gasp escaped your throat. His tongue moved with a masterful grace, licking and swirling, expertly coaxing pleasure from you. “Oh, Aegon,” you moaned, your fingers tangling in his short curls as he pressed closer, the sensations building rapidly within you. He drank you in, sounds of your pleasure encouraging him, urging him to explore further. “Just like that,” you gasped, hips instinctively rocking against him. The pleasure he gave you was overwhelming, a wave of ecstasy that swept through you, threatening to consume you. He moved with determination, using his tongue to tease and tantalize, exploring every sensitive spot with the precision of a skilled lover. Each flick sent jolts of pleasure sparking through your body, pushing you closer to the edge. You could feel your breathing becoming erratic, each gentle stroke igniting an inferno deep inside you. “I’m so close,” you gasped, unable to restrain the sounds bubbling from deep within. Aegon heightened his pace, his mouth working you to the brink, the pressure building so exquisitely that you could hardly believe it. The world faded away, leaving only the two of you, lost in an intimate dance of pleasure. With a final surge of intensity, you cried out, your body arching as waves of bliss crashed over you, holding you captive in a sweet surrender. The sensation consumed you, leaving you breathless and blissfully spent. He emerged from between your thighs, a smug smile gracing his lips as he wiped them with the back of his hand. “You taste even better than I imagined,” he teased, his eyes sparkling with satisfaction. Now, with your body humming from pleasure, you pulled him in for a hungry kiss, tasting yourself on his lips. The heat between you flared back to life as your bodies tangled, the urgency of your connection surging once more. With renewed desire, you whispered, “Now I need you inside me.” His eyes darkened with longing at your words. “I can make that happen,” he replied, his fingers hastily shedding his trousers, to release his aching cock. He hastily positioned himself at your entrance, rubbing his leaking cock head over your weeping slit before slowly, achingly, pushing his cock inside you, breaking through the last barriers that kept you apart. You gasped, a mixture of pleasure and fullness consuming you as he filled you so completely. With a deep, primal urgency, he began to thrust, the rhythm of your bodies a perfect match. Each movement sent shockwaves of pleasure radiating through you, driving you both toward the brink. “Just like that,” you urged, feeling the tension within you build with every thrust. “Tell me how good it feels,” he demanded, his voice low and gravelly as he continued to drive into you, at a frantic pace
“It feels … uh soo good, Aegon i’m so close ,” you moaned, feeling your body tighten around him, welcoming him deeper. “ Me to sweet girl, me too “ he panted into your neck as he continued to pound into you cunt your sweet little sounds spurring him on the heat between you both intensified, and with one final thrust, you both reached your peak, aegon not bothering to pull out as his cock spent itself inside you continuing his thrusts till he could no longer handle it falling flat on top of your sweaty form cock still sheathed inside your cunt you can hear his panting breathes beginning to even out and him began to drift away to slumber your about to protest and tell him he’s crushing you and he can’t sleep here when he scoops you up flipping you both over so your rested on top of him instead head placed right over his heart the soft beating lulling you away to. Just one moment like this wouldn’t be so bad you think to yourself just a minute and you’ll wake him up and tell him he has to go but for now you will enjoy the warmth of his body and the soothing rhythm of his heart beat lulling you to bed.
The soft hues of morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the lavish room. You slowly stirred awake, wrapped in the comfort of the sheets, a sense of bliss enveloping you as memories of the previous night flooded your mind. Aegon lay beside you, his face relaxed in peaceful slumber, the warmth of his body a comforting presence.
You couldn’t help but smile, feeling a mix of affection and excitement. Last night had been a whirlwind of passion and connection—something you hadn’t anticipated when you first saw him. Stretching slightly, you turned to him, admiring the way the morning light danced on his features. But as the reality sank in, urgency washed over you; you had to get Aegon out of here before anyone else in the brothel woke up. “Aegon!” you whispered urgently, gently shaking his shoulder. Before he could fully process your words, the door flung open with a loud bang, and an adorable little girl burst into the room. She had bright, tousled white hair and wide, lilac eyes that darted around, filled with a mix of anxiety and determination. “Mama!” she called, her voice filled with sweet yet panicked urgency. The sight of her jolted both you and Aegon wide awake. He shot upright, confusion etched on his face as he took in the scene before him. “Who is that?” Aegon asked, his voice laced with shock, turning from you to the little girl. You felt your heart race. “Anya, honey, what are you doing here?” you asked, trying to maintain a calm demeanor. “I woke up and couldn’t find you!” she said, her tone shifting as she caught sight of Aegon. “Who’s he, Mama?” Aegon’s brow furrowed as he took in Anya's features, realizing that she had the same bright white hair and lilac eyes as him . “Anya?” he murmured, a sense of recognition dawning on him as he thought out every possibility of who the girls father could be but Daemon hadn’t been to kings landing in Five years since jace’s wedding and this girl couldn’t be older then three, aemond was to preoccupied with his old bat to be fathering bastards and there was no way his father was visiting the street of silk in his declining health there was only one answer . “Is… is she mine?” You felt the weight of the unsaid truth crush you. “….Yes,” you confirmed, your voice barely above a whisper. “But this isn't the right time to discuss it. Aegon, you need to leave!” His expression shifted from shock to something deeper—fear mixed with a desperate need for understanding. “Leave? I can’t just leave without knowing the truth! Three years ago… that night—” he stumbled over his words, his hands clenching into fists, eyes wide with anxiety. “Is she really…? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Mama, why is he scared?” Anya asked innocently, her small hand gripping the edge of your dress, sensing the rising tension.
“Aegon,” you urged, feeling panic swell within you. “Please, I promise I’ll explain everything, but not here. She shouldn’t hear this right now.”
But Aegon wasn’t backing down. “I can’t just disappear, not when I might actually have a daughter. What if I never get to know her?”
Your mind raced, torn between the instinct to protect Anya and Aegon's desperate plea for answers. Anya looked up at Aegon, her bright eyes shining with curiosity. “You look like me!” she said, a huge grin spreading across her face. “You have my hair and eyes!”
Aegon knelt down, his expression softening as he glanced at her. “You’re right,” he said, the fear in his voice giving way to wonder. “You’re beautiful, just like your mama.”
A wave of emotions washed over you as you watched them together. The reality of this moment settled heavily in your chest. “Aegon, if you’re going to be in her life you have to do what best for her and right now isn’t the time to put this all on her give me a day or two to talk to her then you guys can meet properly” you say trying to give him something “ Alright he says two days I'll be back “ he says not looking away from your daughters face before trapping her in a hug you can see the tears in his eye as he grabs his cloak and shoes layed about the room so he can go not forgetting to leave you the sack of coin and all the rings on his hands before he leaves before you can protest he speaks “ For anything you and her need I'll be back i promise “ he goes to close the door and leave you before turning back around to speak once more “ Goodbye Anya it was a pleasure to meet “ you can here him holding back tears as he speaks only going when Anya waved him off with a toothy grin and a bye bye “ He was nice mama” Anya says when he’s finally gone you smile at her words coming down to her level to meet her bright lilac orbs “ Yes.. yes he was sweet girl now should we get something to break our fast “ you say reaching out for her little hand.
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sansaorgana · 7 months
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Girl!Dad Gale on his day off and his wife finds him and their kid playing tea party with Gale as the newest princess of the land
hello, dear! 😍 you have no idea how happy this request made me and how much fun I had writing this 😌 I literally didn't want to stop writing, that's how much I got into this little domestic scenario with Buck 😂
[ PART TWO ]
my inbox is open for blurb/short fic requests for major cleven 🤗
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You had a busy day and you hated it because it happened to be a day off for Buck. He rarely had weekdays completely off and you wished you could just enjoy some time together as a family but you had to pick up some shopping orders from town and you had a doctor’s appointment, too.
“Are you sure you can do that?” You asked Buck as you were putting a coat on in a hurry, checking the clock on the wall with the corner of your eye. Your bus would leave in less than ten minutes.
“It’s not the first time for me” Buck chuckled and adjusted little Peggy on his hip. Well, she wasn’t that little. She would be four soon. The time flied way too fast.
“Okay, okay, see you later then. I’ll warm up dinner when I'm back but you can make sandwiches in the meantime,” you leaned in to kiss him on the cheek and kiss your baby girls’ forehead before leaving in a hurry.
Buck approached the window and watched you cross the street to disappear behind the corner.
“Are you going to wave mummy goodbye?” He asked the little girl in his arms and she giggled before waving her hand. “Good girl,” he kissed her cheek. “What do you want to do now?” He asked.
“I want to play with dolls,” her eyes sparkled at the idea. “Like I do with mummy.”
“Alright,” Buck nodded. He was rarely playing with dolls. In fact, almost never.
So when he took Peggy upstairs to her room, he started to look around awkwardly, not knowing where the dolls were. But Peggy was already unpacking one of the boxes and putting the dolls and their clothes on the carpet. Buck sat down and watched his little girl in awe. She was so sweet and so pretty and so smart for her age. Of course all children were like that in their parents’ eyes.
“And what now?” He asked when all the dolls and clothes were already on the carpet.
“You choose the doll you want to play with,” she sighed, a little irritated that she has to explain such basic things.
“I want this one,” he picked up the one with golden hair. “Can I?”
“You chose this one because she’s got hair like yours,” his little girl giggled and he realised that she was right. He didn’t even think of that.
“And which one are you choosing?” He asked her.
“This one,” she pointed at the doll looking the most like her mum. Buck smiled to himself and nodded his head. Then he took a better look at his doll. It didn’t have any clothes on. “Do we choose clothes now?” He asked.
“Yes! It’s the best part, daddy!” Peggy clapped her hands and Buck reached his hand out to grab one of the dresses. She pouted. “No! Not this one, daddy! I want this one!”
“But I chose it first,” he teased.
“It’s my favourite dress!” She gave him puppy eyes and he gave the dress to her. 
“What do we say?”
“Thank you,” she giggled and began to dress her doll.
Buck chose a different dress and wanted to put it on his doll as well but he was doing it clumsily. He didn’t expect it to be actually quite difficult.
“You’re so clumsy, daddy,” Peggy laughed and took the doll from him to finish dressing her up.
“Not with everything,” Buck protested.
“Really?” She looked up at him as if she couldn’t believe that.
“Well, remember how I fixed the stove the other day?” He tried to remind her.
“Ah, that,” she shrugged her arms and he tried very hard not to laugh at her reaction.
However, he still wanted to impress his little girl.
“And before you were born, daddy was a pilot,” he told her.
“A pilot? What’s that?” She asked, not really interested.
“I was flying planes,” he explained and she looked at him again.
Peggy tilted her head and her eyes widened.
“Like the one we were on last summer?” She asked.
“Not exactly,” Buck caressed her hair and tried to find the right words. “Mine were smaller.”
“Why?”
“There are different kinds of planes. Some planes are to take people from one place to another and other planes…” His voice broke. “Nevermind,” he finished, angry at himself for even starting the subject.
“Okay,” thankfully Peggy only shrugged her arms. “But you are clumsy, daddy. Otherwise you wouldn’t have so many scars. Even on your face,” she chuckled.
Buck smiled sadly at her. He couldn’t tell her now, she was too young to understand. And too young to realise she hurt him with her words. But he wasn’t angry at her. He would never be angry at his little girl. If she had known, she would never say that.
“Yes, I suppose I am clumsy sometimes,” he decided to agree. “What do we do with these dolls?” He changed the subject quickly and grabbed his doll.
“With mummy, we sometimes make tea parties for the dolls and us,” Peggy said.
“We can do that,” Buck nodded his head.
“You have to help me, daddy. The box with tea cups and plates is up there,” she pointed at the box on the top shelf. “Mummy doesn’t want me to play with them without her around because it was expensive.”
“Ah, yes,” Buck chuckled as he stood up. He remembered that purchase well. He reached out for the box and Peggy gasped. “What is it?”
“Nothing, daddy. I was scared you’d drop it,” she giggled and he sighed. She would now call him clumsy all the time for the next few weeks.
He placed the box down carefully and they began to take out all the cups and plates.
“Should I make real tea?” He asked Peggy.
“Don’t be silly, daddy. It’s just play pretend!” His daughter scolded him. “Anyway, we need a Princess. The tea parties are for the Princess.”
“So, for you?” Buck smiled at her.
“No, usually it’s mummy,” she explained.
“But today it can be you,” he proposed.
“But I don’t want to be a Princess. I want to be a fairy,” she pouted. “You have to be the Princess, daddy,” she insisted.
Buck blushed. He knew that they were home alone and no one would see him like this but it still felt odd to become a Princess. Even for a play pretend with his daughter. He wanted to make her happy, though. So he shyly nodded his head to agree.
She clapped her hands, excited and she got up to give him a loving hug. Then she handed him a crown made of paper that had also been in the box with the cups and plates.
“Mummy made it,” Peggy said. “Be careful, don’t break it,” she added and placed it on Buck’s head.
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You entered the house and took your coat off quietly. You didn’t want to make any noise because it was around that time when Peggy should be napping and you assumed Buck was either reading something for work at that time or napping with her. You fixed your ruffled hair in the mirror and quietly went upstairs to check on your daughter first.
But walking the stairs, you already heard her soft giggles and Buck’s voice. You sighed. He had to forget about her nap time.
You opened the door to Peggy’s room and widened your eyes at the sight you had never expected to witness. Your husband – Major Cleven, the war hero – was sitting on the carpet surrounded by dolls with a tiny cup in his hand and a paper crown on his head.
When Peggy was born, you were afraid that he would actually prefer a son. He could talk to him about the planes and all the other things that men found interesting. You were afraid that Buck wouldn’t get into the girly things as much. And he was often awkward about them. When you were picking birthday presents for Peggy or taking her to the events for little girls, he was always visibly out of place. He wasn’t a bad dad – far from that! He would die for his little girl as he was absolutely mesmerised by her. She had him wrapped around her little finger in a way that sometimes was even making you feel slightly jealous. But you would never expect him to actually have a tea party as a Princess.
“What… What is happening here?” You burst out with laughter and Buck blushed. “Oh, what a lovely sight,” you added and you sat down on the carpet, too. “Who’s the fairest Princess of the land?” You teased.
“Daddy is!” Peggy answered and ran up to you to give you a hug. You kissed the top of her head. “Guess what Princess daddy is?”
“Princess Handsome?” You joked and she winced at that. “Princess Brave?” You tried again and she shook her head. “What then?”
“Princess Clumsy!” Peggy giggled and you furrowed your brows.
“But daddy is not clumsy,” you protested. “I’d say he is the opposite.”
Buck took his paper crown off and tried to put it on your head but you pushed his hand away gently.
“It’s yours today, Your Royal Highness,” you grinned at him and he sighed, putting the paper crown back.
“He is clumsy! Look!” Peggy approached her daddy and pointed at one of the scars on his cheeks. She giggled.
“Oh,” you gasped. Your smile dropped and you didn’t know what to say. “But…”
“Don’t,” Gale shook his head. “It’s fine,” he assured you.
But for you it wasn’t fine.
“Daddy doesn’t have scars because he is clumsy,” you tried to explain softly.
“No?” Peggy bit on her fist as her eyes widened. She looked at Buck, surprised.
“Daddy has them because… Because he was very brave,” you added.
“(Y/N), enough,” Buck whispered.
“Like a superhero,” you finished.
“Really?!” Peggy gasped.
“Hardly,” Buck laughed nervously. “I’m not a superhero.”
“I’m sorry for saying you’re clumsy!” Peggy put her hands around his neck and hugged him tight. “Why didn’t you tell me that you’re a superhero?!”
“Because it’s a secret, dollie,” he tried to explain and rubbed her back. He gave you a scolding look and you rolled your eyes.
You knew that Buck didn’t like to be called a hero. To him, all his achievements were just a duty. Something that had to be done to serve his country. And he didn’t feel proud of killing people either.
But you couldn’t let your own daughter bully him for the next few weeks about something like that. Even if she didn’t mean it in a bad way. She loved her daddy but he was too soft with her and she would often take advantage of it and tease him a lot.
“Anyway,” you cleared your throat, “Princess Daddy forgot that it’s Peggy’s nap time.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Buck stood up with Peggy in his arms to carry her to bed.
“No! I’m not sleepy, no!” She protested and he chuckled. 
You began to slowly put all the dolls and cups back into the boxes.
“You have to, sweetheart,” Buck insisted and she sighed, defeated.
He put her down and sat on the edge of the bed as you continued to clean the mess from the carpet. Buck was telling Peggy a story about some knight and a fairy – because she preferred to be a fairy these days – and you put a blanket over your baby girl before taking the crown off of his head gently and putting it back into the box.
“She’s asleep now,” you whispered as you stood behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Come with me, I have to tell you something,” you tried not to smile too widely to hide your excitement and not spoil the revelation too fast.
He looked up at you, confused. You took him by his hand and dragged him out of the room and then into your bedroom.
“What’s going on?” He asked as he closed the door behind him.
“Well,” you started and your eyes sparkled. You were so happy you felt as if you were about to explode, “I have exciting news.”
Buck approached you, confused. God, he looked so adorable, still blushing a little and with his hair ruffled from that paper crown.
“I’m pregnant,” you nearly screamed and then you shut your mouth with your hand, scared you would wake Peggy up.
At first he didn’t react as if he needed a moment to understand the meaning of your words. And then his whole face lightened up as he gave you a wide, sweet smile.
He picked you up and spun you around as you giggled softly.
“Put me down, I’m getting sick,” you laughed and he obeyed instantly. “Thank you,” you breathed out. You fixed his hair and brought his face closer to yours. “Maybe this time it will be a boy,” you whispered.
“Maybe,” Buck pulled you closer by your waist. “Maybe not,” he added. “I don’t mind being a Princess sometimes.”
“Really?” You burst out laughing at him saying that. He nodded, seriously.
“I’d do everything to see my girls smile.”
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MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST
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lovexjoe · 3 months
Text
In Love With A Stripper Part 1 
Synopsis: what happens when a big time cartel meets a stripper? Warning: drugs, language, mention of death, prostitution 
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Xiomara was turning 19 today. She’s been stripping since she was 18 and no this isn’t one of those “trying to get to the bag” stories. She doesn’t have a choice. Her boyfriend at the time was killed during a bad drug deal. Which left her to raise a son all on her own. Stripping pays the bills and teaching during the day allows her to save up. She’s trying to move back to the States, if she was by herself she would just pick up and go. But Ricky needed stability and daycare cost a lot in the US on top of housing. 
Tonight was a big night at the strip club as the cartels are celebrating a birthday today. Ricky was with his grandma, who truly felt sorry that Xiomara had to do this. Her son passing the way he did wasn’t ideal but he made his bed and now he sleeps in it 6ft under. Xiomara still provided money to her because her late boyfriend always helped out and it was one of his last wishes. Plus she really was the only family she had. 
Her stage name was Luna. She had one rule, never sleep with anybody. Her friend Chichi at the club informed her she might have to give it up for one night, cause these men pay. They were currently in the alley way grabbing some cocaine and other pills for the girls back at the strip. It helped numb the pain from the heels or whatever reason they had to do it. Spinning around on a pole looking like a fucking Barbie doll will do it to you. She never judged, she just never participated. 
“Chichi dale! I don’t want the rest of the girls getting the best poles. I got stuck on the loose one in the back yesterday and almost busted ass” Xio grew impatient as they wait for the plug to pull up. She acted a certain way around these girls to blend in. During the day she was squeaky clean for the kids she taught. They waited another minute when a man showed up, his eyes meeting Xio’s immediately. She stared at him back as she watched their transaction. He looked filthy rich yet here he was making a quick buck off of women. Disgusting. 
“You doing sum of this?” He looks at her and she shakes her head. 
“Nah not for me.” Interesting he thought. It wasn’t for him either. Her Bambi eyes making her look innocent. She’s still a stripper after all….
“We’ll see you inside Aretas! Move ya ass Luna we’re late already!” Chichi walked as fast as she could in her heels with Xio trailing behind her. 
“You’re not gonna say thank you?” He calls out to her. Xio turns and salutes him. 
“Thanks jefe!” Xio says before laughing to herself. To think that’s what Andres was doing before he left this earth left a sour taste in her mouth. An interaction like that cost him his life. 
~~~~
The girls dove into their choice of drug before heading out on the floor. Xio touched up her lipgloss, sprayed her perfume and headed out on stage. Armando entered the strip with a group of his homies. Tonight was a night for celebration. What’s being in the cartel and committing crime if you can’t celebrate right? His mom’s escape is set for next week, so they have to blend and do their usual shenanigans which is going out. Laying low would cause some suspicions. 
The girl from earlier caught his eye. She seemed pretty young to be working in the strip but then he remembered Mexico wasn’t all it was made out to be. Yes, it’s beautiful but you get caught up with the wrong crowd your future vanishes in an instant. The strip club had a scent of perfume, hookah and sweat. Not the greatest pairings. He saw Chichi his regular, they usually vibe together but tonight….he wanted her. After drinking and vibing out with his friends they all disperse to their private rooms for a dance. 
“Alright lover boy. Who you picking tonight. It’s on the house.” Armando glances around as the manager of this place follows his eyes. He saw her, rotating the pole so elegantly, her eyes alone could make a man empty his pockets. He nods his head in her direction. 
“Her.” 
“Luna! She’s the youngest one here. Have at it pal!” Armando tensed up wanting to punch him in his shit but realized this environment comes with that type of fuckery. He walks over to her, admiring as she spins her way down from the top of the pole to the bottom. She started to dance around the pole, working her body to the beat. They both lock eyes as she walks over to him like a pretty little kitten. 
“May I have a dance? Birthday boy is owed it.” She looks him up and down, taking his hand and leading him to the back. She was thinking about their interaction earlier. So the drug dealer that was outside was Aretas not some random. Well….at least the bills will be paid for months for these girls. He is what everyone says he is: handsome but those looks definitely killed.
He sits down as the music changed to Persian Rugs by PartyNextDoor. She closes the curtain, walking over to him, touching from his shoulders down to his thighs her hands slowly glided. If she was gonna go against her rules for one night it was going to be worth it. She’d rather it be him then some old fuck anyway. Turning around, she starts to give him a lap dance and he’s completely in a trance. 
He’s come in here a handful of times and nothing left him satisfied, but this one she has him hooked. He hoped she was new because if he has overlooked her this entire time he’d be annoyed. Simply because she doesn’t try too much as if she’s just trying to slip under the radar. She worked her waist line and he couldn’t help but touch her as she grinds her ass against him. His hands falling on her waist, he took control, making her grinds slow and pressed up against his bulge. 
You’re usually not suppose to touch, but the way his hands steered her body she didn’t want to object. His cologne and natural scent just gave off money and gave her stomach butterflies too. He made her slow down, her pussy completely pressed up on his bulge. She started to feel herself getting hot. She hasn’t been with anyone since Andres passing a year ago. What’s up with her and drug dealers anyway?! 
He pulls her backwards so she’s completely laying against his chest as she starts to ride his thigh. Her body was so sensitive she could feel every movement against her clit. What the fuck is happening right now. He caresses her cheek, tilting her face to look up at him. 
“Fuck mami, can I kiss you?” Their foreheads touching. 
“Yes” she says breathless. Without hesitation their lips touched, Armando didn’t know what came over him tonight, but it was his birthday after all and she seem to be the only girl that didn’t throw herself at him. She turns her body around to face him. Her hands pulling his body as close as she could have him. Their bodies just melted into each other like as if they were made for this moment. Two puzzle pieces. Armando feels her shaky breaths against his lips and knew this wasn’t an occurrence on a daily basis or probably ever. Most of these strippers were numbed down to the bones yet this Bambi eyed princess has nerves. 
They slowly pull away, but he holds her still. She shouldn’t be cooped up in the club and ogled at. She seemed too delicate to be working here, her skin so soft but her hands had callouses. He tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear. 
“Get dressed, you’re coming with me.” 
“I-I can’t I have to stay here or else-“ 
“I’ll handle it. Just get dressed for me and I’ll pick you up out back.” She agrees and heads out to the dressing room. She didn’t think she had a choice in that decision. She texted Andres’s mom letting her know that she’ll be out for the rest of the night. She changed into her cargo pants and t shirt with sneakers and heading out back.
She has no idea where this night will take her. 
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Taglist: @yeahnohoneybye @cardi-bre91 @onlysarang @romanreignsluver1 @minwn
@armandosbabymama @dyttomori @bbyplutosblog @vergilnelosparda @believeinthefireflies95
Let me know your thoughts below 🤍
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gh0stsp1d3r · 9 months
Note
Hii!! Can you do a Wonka x Male!reader fic where reader owns a toy shop and makes toys? And Willy enters the toy shop and becomes friends with reader and then Willy would visit every now and then, and could it be like a slow burn? Thank you!
Toy shop
𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
(should I make a part 2??)
A/N: omg i love this sm its so cute. s/n= shop name, also I have no clue how old noodle is but I’m gonna say like 12 just for the fic.
warnings: lots and lots of pining.. nothing rlly
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“Where would you say, is the best place to go for Noodle’s present?” Willy asked Abacus one day after closing. He decided to pack up early to go run some errands, like buying some things for his apartment and also for Noodle.
It was almost Noodle’s birthday, and Willy had been making her her favorite chocolates but he felt like she deserved more. Besides, he had more money now.
“Mm… I passed by this toyshop not so long ago, its on that street somewhere. You can’t miss it.” He pointed, Willy smiled and thanked him, and began to walk over.
Now he wasn’t too sure on what to get a young girl. He hadn’t thought of it until he entered the shop.
You were smiling and helping a family out, pointing to an aisle. Your eyes then landed on the door, an oddly dressed man walked towards you. You smiled and greeted him.
“Hi, welcome to S/N, how can I help you?” You asked him.
He looked at you and smiled back. “Hi, I’m terrible at gift picking, forgive me.” Willy said with a small laugh. “But I was wondering if you could help me try and find a gift for a little girl? A 12 year old girl, to be exact.” He for some reason felt himself getting nervous as he talked, he’s never felt that before.
“No worries, I would love to help.” You said with a smile, you looked to one of your employees and asked for them to fill in for you for just a second.
“Of course, sir.”
“This place is…” Willy started as you walked through the aisles with him.
“Huge? Yeah. It used to be some old restaurant. It took a while for me to fix it up but..” you shrugged.
“You’re the owner?” He asked you, turning his head to you now. You nodded.
“That’s amazing. Oh- I’m Willy, Wonka.” He held his hand out for you to shake, you shook it and just the feeling of your hands made him feel like he was floating.
“Y/n.” You paused, the name sounding familiar.
“Wait, you’re that new chocolate shop owner, right?”
“That’s me.” He said with a grin, tipping his hat.
“That’s amazing, I went actually the other day, and just the outside looks beautiful, and the inside is just.. wow.”
“Really? I’m glad you like it.”
“Yeah… so, uh, what does this girl like?”
“Not too sure. She’s been cooped up in work all her life, really. So I’m not sure she knows..”
“Working at 12?”
“It’s a.. long story. She hasn’t really been able to live a life.” He shrugged.
“Well, I think I have some ideas. We have dolls, tons of teddy bears, a lot of three wheeled bikes have been pretty popular as well. Like this one.” You gestured to one on display,
“Yeah. I think that’s perfect for her. How much is it?”
“5 sovereigns.” You responded, he thought for a moment and pulled out some.
“Only 5?” He was shocked, cheap for such a product.
You shrugged with a small smile. “I like to make sure that every kid has something they love.”
He smiled back at your thoughtfulness. He wished he had met someone like you when he was a kid.
You rang it up, and you both talked for a bit more after.
"It was nice to meet you, Y/n." he said with a smile.
"Nice to meet you as well, Willy."
And he could already tell this was not the last time he would be visiting your shop.
He visited one day after closing, and you had just closed up as well.
“Hey, Y/n!” He called your name, you turned around to see him running over to you.
“Willy?”
“The one and only.” He said with a small smile, and walked next to you. You both talking and laughing for a while, and he had asked to walk you home which you obviously said yes to.
The next time you both saw each other, he came into the store.
“Hey! So, did Noodle like it?” He had told you the name of his friend before.
“Hey! She loved it. She’s still learning, but you know..”
“I’m glad.” You said, looking into his eyes and felt yourself almost getting lost in them.
“What are you here for? Something else?” You questioned.
“Just wanted to talk.” He said, “you know, you’re a fun person to talk to.”
You quirked an eyebrow as you opened a door and motioned for him to come in behind the counter. You walked over to the break room and you both sat down.
“That’s a compliment I’ve never heard before.”
“It’s true.” He said, you laughed and shook your head to yourself.
“What?” He asked, laughing along.
“Nothing, nothing.” You waved it off, and you both smiled at each other for a while before one of your employees came up.
As she approached them, the woman stopped mid-sentence, feeling like she was interrupting something.
“Oh- yes?” You turned to her quickly, snapping out of it and feeling your cheeks heat up. Willy felt the same as his cheeks turned a shade of pink and he looked the other way, trying to hide his large smile.
“There’s a customer asking for you…”
You sighed. “I’ll be right there.”
He watched you, following you as you got up and over to the counter.
“Hello, what seems to be the problem?” You asked.
“They’re wondering if they can get this fixed. I told them we wouldn’t know how-“ your employee started.
The little girl held up a broken wooden toy.
“We can’t afford another one..” her mom started.
“Luckily, I know exactly the solution to your problem.” You said, a small smile on your face as you swiped your hand over it, as it seemingly fixed itself, looking brand new.
The girls eyes widened as you handed it back. She looked up at you.
“Thank you, sir!”
“Of course.“
Willy watched from a distant, a small smile on his face as he watched you interact with the girl and her parents. You were amazing, in his eyes.
You turned around, your employee also seemed shocked at you as you walked back into the room with Willy.
“Well, I’m not even gonna ask how you did that.” Willy started.
“A magician never reveals his secrets.” You held your finger to your lips, you both smiling at each other again.
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bluehourbucky · 1 year
Text
Love from afar
pairing: rockstardad!bucky x fpregnatmom!reader
summary: bucky is away on tour and you're catching up via face time.
a/n: new pictures of Sebastian got me feeling some type of way. also don't mind the kid names I don't know duhshd
-if you'd like to be tagged please let me know! tag list is open! so are my asks
warnings : sexual content / pregnancy / almost mas*uba*on / dirty talk
masterlist
bucky masterlist
rockstardad!bucky [extra content]
DO NOT COPY OR STEAL MY WORK
_______________________________________
18+ only
Minors please don't interact
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Having two kids, one of them being a toddler, does not make life easy, especially when your husband is across the globe.
You're proud of Bucky for achieving his dreams and going on a world tour with his band. However, he didn't have to get you pregnant before leaving for 6 months. To be fair, the tour was scheduled months before you even got pregnant.
Bucky and you talked about trying for another baby when he came back, but by the time he comes back, you will be well into your seventh month.
When you found out you were expecting, Bucky almost cancelled the tour because he straight up refused to leave you. It took a lot of conversation and favours to make Bucky change his mind about cancelling the tour.
Buckys sister Rebecca was a huge part of this working out, she's been incredibly helpful and you couldn't thank her enough.
Today, though, you were alone with the kids. Luckily, your kids are very well-behaved, and you stopped minding the absolute mess your house has been since having kids.
Lately, you've been missing Bucky, he's been a huge part of both your pregnancies. He was and is such a hands-on father and husband, so going through this without him is scary. Bucky calls every day no matter the time zone he's in at the time of breakfast - the most chaotic time of the day aside from bed time.
You smile, seeing his name pop on your phone screen, you swipe, and are met with his beautiful blue eyes.
"Good morning, doll. Looking as gorgeous as always. How are you doing? And little one? And our little trouble makers?" Bucky asks, he's literally a second away from buying plane tickets every single time you send him a picture of you or your kids or you three together.
He looks so good, that you don't know if it's the hormones making you horny or it's just the regular horny you get when you see him.
It's been a while since he had let his hair grow out, mostly because the kids have been obsessed with pulling it, and worst of all, they tried to consume it. Now, being on tour, he let it grow since no one tried to eat it yet.
Bucky didn't visit since he knew that he wouldn't be able to leave again, so he called as much as he could. He missed you more than his heart could take, but this years tour has been the biggest one they ever went to.
You can't help but look at your husband with hunger and love in your eyes, the hair tie on his wrist making you hot all over.
"We're good. Missing you lots, but we're okay. Leo and Theo are trouble as always, but they're good." Bucky smiles at the names of his two boys. He loves them more than anything, but he's secretly hoping that the third would be a girl. He's been dreaming of being a little girls dad. She would be his princess, and he would spoil her endlessly. Not that he doesn't spoil each and every one of you already, but he would be unstoppable.
"Lemme see you, give me a turn doll." You roll your eyes but do it nonetheless. You set the phone on the kitchen counter and lean it on the bottle of water. Bucky smiles wide when he sees your bump, he wishies he could be there and talk to it and give it kisses like he had done other two times.
"Looking good, Mamma, wish I was there with you, miss you a lot." he without fail manages to make you blush even after twenty years of being together. You turn to the side and lift your shirt to give him a better view. Bucky turns into a human heart eye emoji when he looks at his wife and not only are his band members teasing him about it but so are his fans.
"Damn, look at you. Shit I'd do anything to have be there, I would have you naked in our bed, you're so sensitive right now and I'm not there to enjoy it. You're killing me doll."
You whimper quietly, he's the one that's killing you. The two of you enjoyed pregnancy sex way too much, and he's right you're extra sensitive right now.
"Lemme see them beauties, bet they're so swollen, so delicious just for me."
You lift your shirt slowly, teasingly releasing your very much swollen and full breasts, Bucky is a very dirty man and you'd lie if you two didn't explore some fun kinks.
"Gorgeous, my pretty wife, looking so beautiful carrying my baby. All mine."
You're about to reach under your underwear, Buckys hand already wrapped around his cock.
"Daddy!!"
You straighten up, and pull your shirt down quickly, your 5 year old bursts through the kitchen door. You don't know how he knew you were even talking to Bucky but oh well. There goes mommy and daddy time.
"Good morning, baby boy. Is it just me, or every time I call, you get a bit bigger?" Theo squeals from excitement and then goes on a rant about something that happened in one of the shows he's watching.
While they talk you go and wake up Leo, your currently youngest kid.
You get him up and carry him in your arms to the kitchen, he leans on your shoulder still half asleep.
"Baby, gimme the phone for a second." Theo immediately gives you the phone and follows you to the kitchen island where you sat.
"There's my other baby. Still sleepy, mommy woke you up, huh? What are we gonna do about it?"
It was a perfectly reasonable time to wake up....
Your son picks his head up at his father's voice and smiles, reaching for the phone. You put Leo down on the carpet not far from you, so you can still see him and Theo, while you make breakfast.
"Mommy!!!" Theo yells and you look up from the fruit you're currently cutting.
"Honey you don't have to yell I'm right here." you put away the knife, when he comes closer, Theo recently took a liking to yelling and dangerous objects.
"Daddy wants to talk to you!" Theo yells and you cringe at the volume, you love him more than anything but how can such a small child be so loud.
"Doll, I gotta go, we got soundcheck in about twenty minutes, kiss the boys for me, okay? Love you."
"Love you more, and good luck! I know you'll be great! Oh, and don't you dare cut your hair before you come home. I'm going to divorce you."
Bucky chuckles and says love you again before hanging up.
"Theo what do you have there?"
"A KNIFE!"
"NO."
[THE END]
I think this might be my favorite thing I've written so far.....
likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated <3
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Hello. If you don't mind can I request a fic with cassian with a shy reader where she and Cassian have been trying to get pregnant for years, but reader starts doubting herself when seeing the rest of the inner circle females like feyre and elain getting pregnant, and thinking cassian will leave her because it is taking them ages to get pregnant...but Cassian reassures her and all...and weeks later reader finds out she is pregnant and surprises cassian with the news...
Finally.
Cassian x f!Reader
Masterlist.
Warnings; mentions of infertility
My heart literally melted when I finished this.
The sun was shining bright above Velaris and everyone was outside enjoying the warmth. You were watching from the window in one of the guest rooms in the river house. Feyre was sprawled on the lounger her hand on her round belly laughing at Nyx who was being thrown around by your mate -Cassian. Elain was sitting next to her on Lucien’s lap, her hand resting above Lucien’s on her small baby bump. You were so devastated by the sight that you felt like you would faint. You and Cassian had been trying for a baby for 11 years now and every time Madja shook her head with a sad smile you lost a bit of hope. You couldn’t understand why you couldn’t get pregnant, was it you? Were you the problem?
You watched Cassian with Nyx, he was so good to him and you didn’t miss the longing look on his face. Your mate was broken and you couldn’t stand it so you turned your back on the window and let the tears flow. He had every right to leave you and find someone else, someone who could bear his children. You wouldn’t stand in the way of his happiness, if he decided to leave you… you would gather your stuff and go. The thought had you sobbing and you knelt in front of the bed, pressing your face on the soft mattress.
Your body was shaking and you didn’t notice that you were sending everything down the bond.
Strong arms engulfed you and Cassian’s panicked voice rang in your ears.
“What happened baby? What’s wrong?”
You leaned back onto him and cried harder
“Please don’t leave me…please I will try harder to get pregnant I will search for some herbs that might help… I will take everything…maybe I can find a witch…I will even give her my soul…just please Cass don’t leave me”
Cassian’s heart broke, he held you tightly and kissed your head.
“What are you talking about? Are you serious?
I would never leave you… I don’t care if we never have a child… we can go and take one of the kids whose parents died in the war I don’t care… I only want you… pregnant or not.” His voice was loud enough to make his point. “Please doll calm down. It’s me and you we’re talking about… our love is stronger than the cauldron itself.”
You stopped sobbing and peeked at him.
“But I want to make you a daddy” you whined.
“As I said before we can take one of those unfortunate kids… or you can call me daddy” he winked and you gasped, your face becoming red.
After you calmed down Cassian took your hand and guided you outside, you both sat on the ground and played with Nyx.
That night Cassian made love to you. It was so needy and filled with so much love and affection that you wished it never ended.
The next days were peaceful and you didn’t think about pregnancy at all. You had to thank your mate about that since he put all his duties on hold to spend time with you, you knew he was trying to get your mind off the subject and it only made you love him harder.
One month later.
You woke up feeling nauseous and you almost didn’t make it to the bathroom. You heaved over the toilet bowl, and watched as the contents of your stomach came out and heaved harder. Cassian was by your side, holding your hair back and rubbing your shoulders.
“Go away I don’t want you to see me like this” you whimpered.
“Shh it’s okay” he whispered and leaned down to leave a kiss on the back of your head.
After you were done you flushed and pushed yourself up with a groan. You brushed your teeth and watched Cassian, he was standing behind you with a worried expression.
“I think we need to go see Madja” he said and took a step closer. He wrapped his hands around your waist and kissed your head.
“I’m okay… it’s probably something I ate” you shrugged “you should get to training, the valkyries are probably waiting for you.” You smiled.
When he was gone you got dressed and walked to Azriel’s room. You knocked and waited.
The past few days you’ve been feeling way too tired and now this? Something was going on and if it wasn’t what you thought it was you wouldn’t stand to see Cassian’s face so you didn’t tell him.
Azriel opened the door and you explained the situation to him, he hugged you and grabbed his coat. The flight was silent and you reached Madja’s infirmary rather quickly.
She glanced up when you walked in and smiled.
“I think this time it’s really happening” you grinned and she cheered.
She guided you to a small bed and you laid down on it, Azriel was still standing by the door, his hands in his pockets as he didn’t know what to do.
“Az can you come here? I don’t want to do this alone” you called and he rushed to your side.
“Of course” he smiled and faced the other way when Madja pushed your dress up and spread your legs. After a while she smoothed your dress and got up. You and Azriel stared at her, your faces red from the anticipation.
“Congratulations” she smiled.
You jumped off the bed and squealed. Azriel picked you up and spun you around.
His voice muffled by your hair as he shouted “I’m going to be an uncle”
Before taking you home you went into a store and bought a dagger, it had red stones on the handle and you asked the blacksmith to engrave “To the best daddy”.
When it was done you picked it up and Azriel flew you home.
You placed the dagger on Cassian’s pillow and hid in the bathroom when you heard his footsteps.
He walked in, sweaty from the training and panting.
“Doll?” He asked and scanned the room with his eyes. He noticed the dagger and furrowed his eyebrows, he picked it up and placed it next to the others on the small desk with a shrug. You sighed and banged your head on the door.
“Oh come on, you’re not going to examine it? You just found a random dagger on your bed” you exclaimed and walked out of the bathroom. Cassian smiled sheepishly and picked up the dagger again.
He frowned when he noticed the engraving and then he froze. His eyes widened and he looked at you.
“Here it says to the best daddy…are you…or you just decided to start calling me daddy?”
You snorted and approached him, grabbing one of his hands and placing it on your abdomen. You smiled softly and nodded.
“Mother’s tits I’m going to be a daddy” he screamed and picked you up, he started running around the house with you in his arms screaming “I’m going to be a daddy” again and again. Everyone there was cheering and clapping but that wasn’t enough for him…nooo… he reached the balcony, flared his wings and with you still in his arms shoot up, circling around the city and screaming “I’m going to be a daddy”.
Requests are open!
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winterarmyy · 1 year
Text
Behind The Facades | Part III
An unrequited pining over a certain super soldier.
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Navigation: Part I | Part II | Part III (end)
Words: 1.9k++
Pairing: avenger!bucky x female!reader
Warnings: near assault, bickering, mini(i think?) grovelling, tiny fluff and of course what else than angst.
P/S: Thank you so much for your support from previous chapters! At first, I didn't plan to make this a mini series at all, but here we are. Anyway, enjoy!
Read my other works here: Masterlist
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Y/N wished that she could live up to her own expectations. That she would enjoy every second of this date. But who was she kidding?
How was she supposed to be present in the moment and savour the wonderful dinner or relish the breath-taking scene of glimmering city lights through the windows at their table, when all she could ever think of was Bucky?
Bucky.
Bucky.
That god damn son of a bitch, Bucky.
She felt suffocated by both anger and pain. Completely distracted by the thought of him.
"I can't do this." Y/N abruptly stood on her feet as she confessed her truth. She paced and paced, despite the voice of Daniel calling out her name from behind.
She could barely hear him, or maybe she shuts it down on purpose because she can't afford having more thoughts in her spiralling mind.
She only realized that she was out when the sound of the hustle bustle of the city invades her hearing. She stood still for a while, wondering if she let her feet takes her away, where will she ended up then.
Before she could walk away any further, she felt a grip on her arms, pulling her to the alleyway besides the building. It was surprisingly dark and eerie even with the lively lights of the city leaking through the ends of it.
Considering he was an agent of SHIELD, he does have a quick reflex when he managed to grab both of her wrists and pinned her to the wall.
Honestly, she wasn't completely oblivious at Daniel's physical advances throughout the night; hands hovering over her ass when he lead the way, fingers grazing her thighs through the slit of her dress.
They were subtle but still relentless.
"Just where the fuck do you think you're going?" Daniel seethed in her ears, his impatient breaths huffed in between her neck.
"Oh, for fuck sake." She sighed with a slight annoyance in her undertone. She was really tired of everything at this point. Especially when this fool who thought he could throw her around like a ragdoll.
Y/N managed to twist her hands free from his grasps as her knee raised towards his defenseless crotch. However, the hit never happened, as a familiar black and gold metal hand wrapped tightly around Daniel's neck.
In a split second, Bucky had Daniel up against the opposite wall, head slamming into the hard crooked bricks of the building. Loud cluttering sound of the empty steel cans echoed down the alleyway, almost drowning Daniel's strained groans.
Although Y/N was not able to see Bucky's face, but she could imagine the cold grim in his eyes when the grit of his voice growled, "Touch my girl again and you'll see what Hydra had made of me."
She averted her eyes down to the dark and murky color of the ground when a strike of pain ached within her chest.
She hates it when he acknowledged Hydra's label on him.
A weapon. A monster.
It's imbrute and dehumanizing.
Her view didn't change its imagery until a pair of black combat boots entered the picture. She lifted her gaze just to spat at her saviour, "I could've handled him myself."
Bucky's eyes soften as a proud smile appeared on his lips, "I know, doll."
Very contrast to his gentle expression, Y/N's face was rigid and irritated. Ironically, they were imitating each other's default guise.
Y/N rolled her eyes before pushing him aside and started to walk away, leaving Bucky alone in the dark alleyway. Though her attempt was unsuccessful when Bucky managed to grab a hold on her wrist, "Wait, y/n."
She halted but refused to look back, "No. So, can you let go of my hand now?" her hands bundled into fists as she try to hold back her wrath.
Though the sidewalk was not crowded with people, in fact it was nearly empty, however she didn't want to make a scene.
"Please, hear me out." Bucky pleaded.
At least, she tried to keep it in.
Y/N yanked her hand from his, "Why the fuck should I listen to you, Bucky?!" she snapped, eyes flashing with fury.
Bucky was honestly not prepared for this, he went here without thinking of a plan to coax her. He ran to her with a sole purpose of telling her the truth, and Y/N yelling at him is not helping his nervous wreck,  "Because..bec.."
Growing impatient to his hesitation, she fumed even more, "What?! Just what is it that you want from me Buck--"
And then all loud sounds of the roaring rage in her head suddenly fell into complete silence when she felt his lips on hers.
The sensory within her skin abruptly heighten, becoming sensitive to Bucky's contrasting touch on her cheeks; hot and cold in either side as he cupped her face in his palms.
His soft lips, his intoxicating scent, his desperate touch.
Everything was too overwhelming for her short-circuited brain to process an appropriate response; in fact any type of response.
So when she let her body go on auto-pilot she found herself leaning forward, craving for more of the delicious friction.
It was a short lived moment of deafening sound of her own beating heart thundering in joy and excitement before the noises of rationality came rushing back to her.
Y/N ripped herself away in complete shock and panic, "Wh--what" even she herself was lost for words.
What have she done?
She pushed Bucky harshly she shouted, "Why? Why did you--? Y-you have a girlfriend, Bucky! You have Gail!"
God, how could she kissed her friend's boyfriend?
"I can't believe you just kiss me knowing that." And she reeled into the pure anxiety.
Bucky's pleads sounded muffled as her mind spiralled in guilt and shame. He grabbed her by the side of her arms before briefly pulling her back into reality, "Listen to me, y/n"
Y/N ran her hands through her hair, gripping it in her fists as her mind turned into complete chaos, "No, god this is wrong." He could hear panic in her trembling voice.
Bucky snapped as he yelled, "y/n, we broke up!"
There was a pause in time and air. Her body frozen as his words seemed to infinitely repeated in her ears. Head slowly turning towards Bucky; finally giving him the attention he demanded.
She just blankly stared at his truthful eyes with her own pair, wide open.
"He's bluffing. He's just making excuses."
"Bullshit! You looked very much in love last time I saw you, which let me remind you, it was few hours ago!"
Bucky thought about it for awhile before he replied,  "It's hard to explain everything now but she wanted to end it, for my sake." He paused. "...It's over."
He was not lying. Y/N knew that; she could hear it in his voice, see it in his eyes. He was telling the truth. But, it didn't make sense; why why why.
Gail was perfect for Bucky. He needs someone like her. He deserves that type of love that she gave; soft and tender.
"No no no. That can't be it. W-why the fuck are you here then? You gotta get to her Bucky! You're not suppose to here. Not with me. Go before it's too late--"
He is worthy of someone who's completely unbreakable, someone that can stay with him even at the darkest times, someone that won't see him as a weapon, but a human being.
Someone who will love him unconditionally.
Because, Bucky of all people, deserves to be loved.
"You don't mean that, y/n"
It hurts Bucky to see that Y/N thought she was unfit for a place in his heart, when she literally owns it. It pained him that she keeps putting up this facade that she unable to see her true self.
It burns her heart to let him go but that shows how far she was willing to sacrifice for Bucky, "I do. I mean it.." she can feel her tears pooling in her eyes, "You deserv--"
"Stop lying to me. Stop lying to yourself." Bucky couldn't understand she keeps pushing him away. If he truly deserve to love someone then why can't it be her?
"Lying?"
Y/N find it harder to breathe as her chest tightens. Did he see right through her? Her voice trembled as she struggled to let the words out,  "I..I'm not lying."
Bucky almost scoffed in disbelief, "You think I didn't noticed it, y/n?"
All those masks she hides in. Behind the facades she wore so boldly, so willingly. Hurting herself over and over everytime she had to put up a brave face.
No.
He made her do that.
If he was honest from the beginning then things wouldn't turn out like this. She wouldn't suffer as she did. She never needed to.
"And fuck was I so stupid to turn a blind eye on you for the sake of keeping you." Bucky was breathless with anger. A rage towards himself; for his foolishness.
"Do you know why I get together with Gail?" Bucky felt as if his chest was burning, searing with flames, that if this goes any further then his heart will turn to ashes.
But Y/N deserve the truth even though he knows he need to admit his shameful doings,  "Because she reminds me so much of you. Warm, gentle and so unconditionally kind. And I let myself fooled by the illusion of you that I saw in her."
"I'm a bad man y/n. I hurt her. And I hurt you. Fuck, I hurt everyone around me." His eyes stung to think how effortlessly he destroy every single person he love; as if he was designed to do so.
"I know that I deserve every single curse and scrutiny that come my way. I've always known that."
"But for once in my fucked up life," his voice betrayed him by revealing its' stuttering form, "...I also know that I am lucky to have the chance to love someone as unforgivingly enchanting as you."
There was a brief pause where the air was still and soundless; reserved for the painful sounds of their breath.
His raw emotions was laid out unfiltered in a form of streaming tears across his cheeks, "I won't ask for your love in return." He reached his hand to hers and held it dearly, "All I ask is for your forgiveness."
His eyes searched her soul, willing her to bare with him a little longer, "Because god I can't lose you. I can't."
Bucky felt like he was drowning; as he was 70 years ago at the Austrian Alps. The unbareable emotions rushed in like the frozen waters that filled his lungs.
Panic. Shame. Regret.
Y/N never thought she could come this far.
She thought she would able to lift the weight; and with the long record of success, she thought she wouldn't able to break.
But after all, she was just a human and there will always be a limit to where she will end up at.
What's the point of pretending when the person she loves is as miserable as her?
The tripedation of her only give false signals to Bucky; this is it, he was losing her.
But, there it was, the forgiving embrace he longed for. In her arms the world stopped still on its axis. He felt her body pressed in, soft and warm. This was the love he'd waited for, prayed for. Bucky's shaky hands roamed from the side of her waist before his arms crossed behind her, squeezing her closer, tighter.
How could she not forgive him? When he had pour all of him as he did.
There was no time, no wind, no sound. Just the heat of their body against each other. The melody of their heartbeats intertwining. Bucky's mind was at peace. So was hers.
No more more pretending.
No more putting on act.
She settled into the crook of his neck and whispered so soft and quiet that some won't be able to hear but Bucky did.
"I love you, too."
End.
<< Part II
Read my other works here: Masterlist
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A/N: Thank you so much for your time to read my work. Feel free to express your thoughts in the comment/reblog! I love to hear from you~
Taglist: @ghostofwinter @angstysebfan @erinallene @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @paarthurnax59 @nomajdetective @kentokaze @dexter99 @nana1000night @prettyinpink350 @calwitch @unadulteratedbeardpeanut @kandis-mom @abitofblues @obsessivelycraftygothfandomwitch @its-daydreamer23 @hopelessromantic423 @rabbitrabbit12321 @lovely-geek @loonalockley @superforgottensoul @awkwardalie @peter-parkers-gf @opheliabarnes @blackhawkfanatic
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Text
Wonderland! Bunnydoll
It's secret to nobody that @endomentendo Wonderland AU has been spreading the same way an invasive root does in a garden (Don't tell Queenie) What some might NOT know, is that the Bunnydollers have successfully bullied them with love and pretty art to make the ship part of their canon Heck, Ragatha's mood allignement change! I call that a major victory!
So to commemorate the change and because @kookies2000 has infected half of the burrow with the WonderBug, I present thee with a small little something.
Its not very good but I had fun. And I think that all Wonderland its about
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Leaves fall, birds chirp.
Twigs snap, Branches shake.
The grass crumples, dirt and sand raises in the air. 
The sounds of idle laughter chimes in, carried by the hollow whistle of the wind. Empty steps mark the ground.
The sensible response is to shake your head, turn around, and go back from wherever you came from. 
The sensible and logical thought that pricks at the mind and tells you ‘There’s nobody there’. 
So stupid and wrong. 
Out of all the creatures in the forest to find, those that find you first are probably some of the worst, and by the very nature of their bodies, this one is the most dangerous of all, as they dont get found out if they don't wish to be. 
The laughter echoes around, and if you were to close your eyes— Well, you would be really stupid, because nobody should do that in a forest. Who knows where you could trip going around blind like that? 
But if despite better judgment, you still close your eyes, or at least, the one working eye, it's almost like if windchimes were all around the forest.
Such a pretty laugh.
How can people say Chesires are bad when they laugh like that? 
“Jax! I’m not supposed to wonder this deep in, you know that!” Little Pretty Red Locks and a smile, you are not angry or mad, yet you try “At least tell me what are we looking for!”
The empty, dusty steps wave off the dirt path, leaving purple prints instead as they go up the trunk of a mighty tree
“Seriously? I have to climb? In this dress?” Only mad people talk to themselves, so this really isn’t that weird of a sight, that is, if there was anyone else with Pretty Red Locks and a smile. “Mother is gonna be upset at me if I return to the party with tears on my dress…!” 
She could have chosen not to climb, stay down on the ground, but then the enchanting laughter knew she wouldn’t. Too many a year had passed, at least he thought so, since they first started to play this game. A Cat and a Mouse. 
Why would a little mouse be in pursuit of a cat, you ask? Probably to ask for some milk, or to share a cookie. 
But there is no cat or a mouse in sight, just Pretty Red Locks and a smile. 
Climbing trees is easy, it barely takes a breeze, yet the doll struggles getting around the branches, silly girl, your dress is on the way, Why did you ever think that was appropriate clothing to go tree climbing? Mad idea, indeed. 
Leaves fall, branches creak, and the laughter is no more. A low hum bouncing around the canopies of the trees. A nameless tune that has no lyrics, and even when it does, their meaning is meaningless. Still, Pretty Red Locks tries to sing it, no matter how many times she gets it wrong. What a crazy thing to try
“Are we there yet?” She huffs and puffs the lack of air in her lungs, settling in a big sturdy branch. Yeah, they were there. That’s as good as it could get “I know I’m not a kid anymore, but you could try and give me a hand still!”
“Now, why would I do that?” The voice of nobody speaks, much mirth and much mischief in the way they sound. Just like the laughter from before “You got yourself up here without my help! If you couldn’t, why try?” 
“You told me to follow you, then disappeared and got me here!” Still airless, still amused. Are you not afraid of being this high up? 
“If I disappeared, you got yourself here” Fight a disembodied voice about semantics, if you weren’t mad before, you will be after.
“Well, We’re here-- Or *I* am here now. So what's the surprise?” 
“What surprise?” 
“I’m not going to start that with you”
“Start what?” 
Laughter again, but it's not the voice of the nobody, Pretty Red Locks laughs. 
It’s a pretty laugh.
“The view is nice from up here” Again talking to herself, because there was no other voice to answer her “You always like to be somewhere high, don’t you?” Talking to oneself means nobody answers you, but Pretty Red Locks and a smile didn’t seem to be bothered by that, her lips splayed in a wide smile for the empty space right beside her on the branch “I guess it's part of your nature”
The hollow wind carries the small hum of a melody. Down below littles colorful dots dance around unhearable music. It wouldn’t be long now until they realized the missing person among them.
“Having fun on your regular birthday?” The voice of nobody spoke, though it was lacking a bit of that usual charm. Wonder where it had gone
“What other types of birthdays are there?” The doll only got silence as a response, right, she was answering a question with another question “Yes, it’s very fun. I’m glad you came by”
“Wouldn’t have missed it for the end of the world~!” 
Swinging her legs over the void of the fall, the doll swallowed the rest of the questions she wanted to ask, her conversation partner wasn’t in a responsive mood and talking to herself wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, even if she did it more often than most
“I’m gonna give you your gift now” The disembodied voice spoke and the doll felt her insides tickle as if full of loose flower petals
“Does that mean I can see you n-” Ragatha wanted to say something dumb, because she was about to answer a statement with a question. A dumb and also rude thing to do
Thankfully, she was saved from the embarrassment by a pressure over her mouth. Her lips. It felt… Warm. slightly moist, a bit fuzzy. 
Such an odd feeling
Not only was her mouth covered by something, Ragatha blinked once and she was sure something was holding the sides of her arms. It was firm yet kind, the way she always felt when dancing atop the roof of the castle, or balancing over the railing of the balconies or now, over at the top of the trees. 
She pursed her lips and that pressure moved. Ragatha realized now that she couldn’t quite breath with this strange block against her mouth, but just before she could start to worry about running out of air, the pressure left her mouth. The one around her arms remained.
Blinking once, twice. Ragatha notices her eyesight worsening. Just a second ago she could see the party below with perfect clarity, now everything seems to be warped and fuzzy. Like trying to see through an empty glass.
Something invisible in between. 
“Jax?” She called to the nothing around her. “Did you do something just now?” 
Pretty Red Locks got no answer from the empty air around her. She blinked again, the fuzziness went away, and so did the hold around her. 
She missed it already. 
The familiar humming of a distant tune came back, and while the sound bounced around, Ragatha’s gaze stood firmly ahead. The emptiness in front of her slowly filling up from the bottom up, stripes of purple and dark blue hues swirling, tangling and knotting among themselves. Forming limbs, a torso, a tail, ears and finally. 
Two big yellow eyes and a smile. 
“Happy regular birthday, Ragatha” The voice of nobody came from the mouth of this funny looking guy, but Ragatha already knew that. She have known this funny looking man for a long time now
“Happy not-birthday, Jax” She returned the gesture, smiling, not as widely but almost so as the man floating over nothing in front of her. 
“Oh! You remembered! How thoughtful!” The colourful man squinted his eyes slightly as his smile broadened even more, making most of his face “Anyway, Ready to go back?” He extended an open, gloved palm to the pretty doll with red locks and a smile, he was, admittedly, a bit surprised that she didn’t immediately take it.
“Jax, My aunt will freak out if she sees me ‘Floating’ down back to the party!” “Not let anyone see you, got ya!” Jax reached out and claimed Ragatha by the arm to himself, pulling her with him into the nothing void. 
Most people would freak out, scream, cry. To be so carelessly thrown into no ground at all, especially at such a height. 
Ragatha just giggled, barely holding on to Jax as they took step after step, moving slowly, closer to the ground. 
“Aren’t ya afraid to fall?” Jax held got tighter to her and she let go even more, slightly annoying. She should be holding onto him as if her life depended on it. What, was she mad or something?
“Are you going to let me fall?” Pretty Red Locks and the gall you had, trusting your life to a cheshire. 
“Not unless it’s funny” 
They eventually made it back to the ground and Jax lost himself in a puff of color. But Ragatha knew him to be close by. Call it a ‘Womanly intuition’. She just had a gift for this sort of thing. 
In truth, watching the scenery from up high and float back down with Jax was something she was really used to, she could quite understand what about that was supposed to be her gift. 
That feeling she got around her lips though…
She hoped she could ask Jax about it the next time they got to meet for tea. 
She enjoyed it very much
If only a feeling such as that one had a name.
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stuckysbike · 1 year
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Kiss Me Once In The Moonlight
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Pairing: Bucky x Reader
Warnings: Angst, unrequited?feelings. Fluff.
Summary: You’ve fallen in love, but he wants someone else.
It was a cold mid October Saturday night when you realised you were in love with Bucky Barnes.
Natasha had ushered you out of your solitude and over to her private apartment on the compound. Steve was already there, along with Sam, Joaquin, Yelana, a few from the medical team and a few mechanics.
The place was decorated for spooky season, with playful ghosts and fuzzy spiders hiding in the corners. Everyone got comfortable and music played in the background whilst you snacked on nuts and candied apples and sipped beer. Halloween meets Octoberfest was the theme.
Bucky had been telling a story, his face lit up and his big hands flying everywhere as he described his mom chasing him with a broom during his teenage years after a Halloween fright. Occasionally his eyes met yours and they sparkled, but you figured he was like that with everyone.
You’d been crushing on him since you arrived in January and he was first to greet you. He seemed fascinated by your job, research and data analyst, but it was ultimately boring to almost everyone but you.
You lunched together sometimes and you swapped books every few weeks. You even got him into podcasts and you were always swapping recommendations.
But tonight he looked happy, relaxed even, and when Natasha dropped her dainty feet into his lap you felt the world skip underneath you, you wanted to put your feet in his lap. You wanted his big hands dwarfing your feet.
He rubbed her toes without thinking, and she snuggled down as the mechanics started describing the prank they’d played on Tony this week, going so far as to rope Pepper in.
“Wanna stay here tonight?” You heard Natasha murmur to Bucky during a lull in conversation. Sam was changing the music and Joaquin was setting up tequila shots.
He smiled at her but shook his head. “Nah,” his voice was thick with tiredness.
“You finally made a move on that girl?” She teased wiggling in her spot.
Bucky’s cheeks tinged pink and you dropped your eyes when you realised you were staring. You didn’t want to be caught looking like some dumb kid.
It was foolish to think that Bucky with his wonderful abilities and handsome looks would be interested in you who spent most of your time at work or alone.
“Think I’m gonna’ take her out, yeah,” he nodded. You snuck a glance at him in time to catch him looking from you to Natasha.
Oh god, he must have noticed you staring. How embarrassing!
Tears that had no right to form stung your eyes and you stood suddenly distracting Steve who was kneeling at the coffee table next to you. Sam took the opportunity to defeat him in their thumb war game much to Steve’s annoyance.
“I’m going to head back, I’m just really tired,” you said to the room, avoiding Bucky. “Thank you for the invitation Natasha.”
There were a few comments asking you to stay but ultimately everyone wished you a good sleep. Your own room was a fifteen minute walk away in a shared block and you pulled your arms around yourself to fight the cold as you stepped outside.
“Hey Doll,” Bucky called startling you.
“Bucky, hi,” you frowned.
“Thought I’d walk you back,” he said falling into step with you. “And I wanted your advice.”
“Oh?”
“So there’s this girl I like. She’s not like the others, she’s not really - she’s different. And I really want to make a date special for her, you know?” He glanced as you, letting his arm bump yours as you walked.
“I do,” you sighed resigning yourself to your fate. You didn’t want to have this conversation but you didn’t want to not help him either. He was your friend after all.
“So I’ve had a few first date ideas, I’m thinking farmers market then making brunch together? I started this really great podcast and I was thinking we could listen together as we cook then talk about it while we eat? Then after we could go to a museum or something?” Bucky licked his lips and stopped looking at you.
You didn’t want him to share a podcast with her. That was your thing with him. You knew you were being unfair, childish even but right now you didn’t care.
“That sounds lovely,” you said. And it did, you wished you were that girl, you wished Bucky wanted to go to all that trouble for you but instead you’d have to sit home alone tomorrow whilst he woo’d someone else.
“Yeah?” He asked excitedly. “I really just wanna’ hold her hand, at the market, in the museum, I just crave that feeling you know, like this,�� Bucky reached for your hand and laced your fingers together, holding your joined hands up to inspect. “It’s been a long time since I held a girls hand like this.”
“I-I’m sure it has Buck,” you swallowed. He resumed walking and you could do nothing but join him, he still had your hand in his. He described his outfit for his date and wondered if you had a cosy chunky sweater.
“I do, it’s so comfortable,” you said softly. You couldn’t hide the disappointment as you slowed in front of the doors. “It’s my favourite colour too.”
“Will you wear it tomorrow?” Bucky tilted his head to the side.
“Why does it matter what I wear?” You couldn’t help but giggle at his odd request. You couldn’t though, thinking of him with someone else whilst you wore what he asked you to.
“I want to know that you’re warm tomorrow. You know, on our date?” Bucky pressed his cool left hand on your cheek as he turned to face you. His kiss was soft, just a sweet brush of the lips and then he pulled away. “I’ll see you at nine thirty?”
“Uh huh,” you nodded dumbly. He kissed you again, and you caught the faint taste of whiskey on his lips. He was warm as he pressed into you and you let your hands slide up his chest to his shoulders.
“See you tomorrow baby girl,” he pressed one last kiss to your forehead then opened the building door for you.
You walked inside in a daze, waving goodbye and drifting up the stairs like you weighed nothing.
You couldn’t remember getting changed into your pj’s, all you knew was that you were snuggled under your duvet setting an alarm for your date with Bucky in the morning.
You smiled, and suddenly your legs kicked and you let out a little squeal. You were going out with Bucky Barnes and he kissed you three times.
You feel asleep to the memory of one hot hand and one cold hand cupping your cheeks as he kissed you in the moonlight.
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roseglazedlens · 11 months
Note
I lieu of October coming up, how would some of the resident evil characters spend Halloween with the reader? ♡♡♡
𝗛𝗢𝗪 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗬 𝗦𝗣𝗘𝗡𝗗 𝗛𝗔𝗟𝗟𝗢𝗪𝗘𝗘𝗡 ✧.*
┇LEON S. KENNEDY┇CARLOS OLIVEIRA┇ETHAN WINTERS┇ ┇CLAIRE REDFIELD┇ASHLEY GRAHAM┇ADA WONG┇ content: SFW! Ada's part is slightly suggestive! a/n: thank you for the request! I had problem with some of these for a while, but with halloween around the corner i found the festive vibes for this!! hope you enjoy, dear! thank you for requesting again!! « masterlist┇reblogs appreciated! »
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LEON S. KENNEDY
Leon doesn't usually dress up. It's out of the way for him to do so usually. But he can be bribed with a good meal and hug.
Old man thinks he's too cool to enjoy Halloween. But he actually really enjoyed dressing up in his low budget vampire suit from the discounted section of a Halloween store.
This is the only time in the year he would slick back his hair with gel in spite of how you think it looks really good on him, framing his features and accentuating his blue eyes. He is very stubborn and likes his hair down.
Now he wears the same costume every year. So much that you're getting really sick of it. He insists that it makes him look good (and it does)
He tries to act cool, but he hates horror movies. When you are watching it together, his hand will be clasping your arm tight, shaking a little.
"Are you sure you don't want to watch something else?" You would ask, and he would respond with: "Pfft. Me? I'm not scared at all."
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CLAIRE REDFIELD
Halloween is Claire's favourite holiday! She LOVES it.
And so does the kids in her neighbourhood. She always has a huge smile on her face with trick or treaters, will compliment everyone's costumes and give away extra treats.
I see her going all out for Halloween parties. She learnt SFX makeup and a bit of sewing so that her costumes and make-up are really scary.
Which is a stark contrast with her brother, Chris. He thinks dressing up is a chore and a waste of time. When he does dress-up, it's always in uniform (e.g. firefighter, cop). He thinks it makes him look cool. (He's not wrong but, what is up with Chris and uniforms?)
Already planned out her costumes for the next five years (Ideas keep changing too). She definitely wishes there are more days in Halloween because she has so many ideas.
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CARLOS OLIVEIRA
Carlos is a menace during Halloween.
In no way is Carlos the best at making costumes or doing scary make-up, but Carlos is very creative.
Years ago, Carlos disguised himself as a stuffed doll sitting on the porch. Gave all the kids the fright of their life. He will watch them scram away in fear, and bellows a laugh. (traumatising kids is his favourite pasttime)
Another year, he devised a mechanism that springs up a shadowed figure anytime someone rings his doorbell.
He became infamous in his neighbourhood for his antics, and it's now an attraction for both kids and grown-ups every Halloween.
I also see him and Claire becoming really good friends from their united love for Halloween!
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ASHLEY GRAHAM
I headcanon Ashley to crochet, so with Halloween coming, I see her crocheting a spooky themed sweater top, or a granny square bag to embrace the season.
I think Ashley loves to host Halloween parties. With the size of her dad's house, she can accomodate a lot of friends. Often going over the top with themes and decorations.
This year's theme is Harry Potter. She custom ordered a 3 metre (10 feet) tall animatronic of a Dementor in her party and everyone loved it!
She also loves bingeing spooky movies during Halloween. Ashley loves horror movies so much! I don't see her screaming at horror movies, she has grown an immunity to them from watching too many.
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ETHAN WINTERS
We already know Ethan has meticulously planned for Halloween almost a month in advance just for Rose.
He is determined to make Rose experience the best childhood, and that includes Halloween too.
Ethan loves matching costumes (would never admit it though), especially with Rose and you too.
When he finishes dressing up Rose, he snaps a million pictures of her, claiming he will show it to Rose when she's all grown up. And Rose will say "Dad, I don't want to take any more photos. The treats are gonna run out!"
Very protective. If anyone has a scary costume, he will steer Rose away from the scary man. Same for people who are underdressed, or is just generally creepy. Not on his watch.
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ADA WONG
Halloween is not Ada's cup of tea. She goes out of her way to avoid going out during these days.
For trick or treaters, she leaves a candy bowl on her porch for kids to help themselves. Ada enjoys seeing the silly costumes the kids wear, but she despises interacting with them.
If you are special to Ada, she will put on a sexy Halloween outfit in the privacy of your quarters just for you. She won't take responsibility for whatever you guys might do afterwards. But those are just for your eyes only.
Ada watches horror movies with a blank face. At this point, nothing phases her anymore. I think she'll find them boring and slightly frustrating, with the stupid things the protagonists do to get themselves in danger. She rather watch true crime instead.
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thanks for reading! come check out my other works. —yours truly, rose. tags: @valsthea @kennedyswhore @emilzke @daydreamrot @j3llyd0nut @ovaryacted @obsolescent © roseglazedlens — please do not repost, plagiarise, or feed to ai.
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