#like. It's fun for me. I like having to think about these things and having to learn and problem solve to conform to Mostly hard

[whatsverstappeningnow]

how f1 drivers react

to girlfriend!reader wearing a necklace with their race number on it (some slightly suggestive lines included) (requested)

drivers mentioned: MV33, LN4, OP81, AA23, CS55, CL16, LH44, GR63

max verstappen

The sun shines in through the kitchen window in golden strings of light. It's a quiet day at home, with no plans till the afternoon and no need to hurry there. Still, you've already dressed yourself in a new summer dress you've bought. The material flows down over your hips, swishing as you turn in the mirror and then as you walk from your bedroom to the living room to show Max your chosen outfit. But you dress isn't the only new item you're wearing.

You'd bought it secretly. A suprise. One you hoped he'd love.

Max spots the necklace right away, his gaze flicking from your eyes, to the dress and then landing on it with a sudden, knowing smirk curling at his mouth. From where's he's sat on the couch, he leans in just a little, elbows on his knees and head resting on his upturned hand. His voice low and teasing as he speaks.

“Well, well, look at you,” he says, voice thick with amusement and something a bit more dangerous.

"You like my new dress?" You ask, giving him a quick spin, hands in the air for a moment and then settling on your waist. His gaze lingers over you with careful precision.

"Not the only new thing you've got on," he muses, tilting his head to the side slightly, "Where'd you get that?"

"Ordered it," you say simply, as if it were nothing at all, as you readjust the necklace chain.

“Careful, schat. Trying to make sure no one forgets who you belong to, huh?”

He stands, slowly, holding your gaze. He stalks towards you, one hand reaching out to hold your waist, the other fingering the chain of the necklace, his eyes lingering on the number and then dragging up to meet your gaze.

You catch the challenge in his eyes and flash him a grin in return. “Maybe I just like the idea of having you close, all the time.”

The teasing in his expression softens in an instant. His fingers gently brush the pendant as he looks at you, eyes warm and serious now.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, voice softer, “I like the sound of that.”

He pulls you into a quick kiss, no dramatics, just the softnes of quiet love, then he lets his forehead rest against yours.

“You don't know what you do to me,” he whispers into the small space between the two of you, his eyes resting closed like he's still processing the necklace and the dress. It's barely any distsnce at all, yet it feels like a mile. You can feel the warmth of his breath on your lips.

"I think I've got some idea." You smile. He does too.

lando norris

He notices it while you’re lying beside each other on the couch, limbs tangled up together in a familar way, and watching some random movie you're only half paying attention to. It's background noise more than anything. You couldn't care less though, just being with Lando was enough to make you relax.

It's about halfway through the movie, with some museum scene plays across the screen, when he notices the new shiny necklace hanging around your neck.

“Wait—hang on. Is that… is that my number?” His voice, though scratchy and slow from tiredness, goes up slightly as he speaks. The little queaks of excitement in his words make you smile.

You can only nod, biting back a smile, desperate to see his reaction. You'd bought the necklace on a whim a few nights ago and were lucy it had arrived while Lando wasn't home. The fun was the suprise of it, after all.

He stretches forward for the remote, sat on the coffee table infront of you two, and pauses the movie dramatically.

“You love me.”

You blink, a small laugh bubbling in your chest at his sudden and sombre declaration.

“I mean, yeah, obviously—”

“No, no. This is serious,” he says, grinning from ear to ear like an madman, all teeth and dimples. “You got a number four on your chest. That’s, like, actual dedication.”

You raise a brow, amused. “It’s just a necklace.”

“Just a—?” He gasps, scandalised, hand to his chest and all, like you’ve personally offended him. “That’s my number. You realise what you’ve done, right? You’re basically branded now.”

“Branded?”

He nods solemnly, though his eyes are still sparkling with excitement. “Yup. You wear that out and people are gonna know. Like, know know. I won’t even have to introduce you anymore. They’ll see it and go, ‘Ah, that’s Lando’s girl.’”

You can't help but laugh now, full bellied and joyful, and he grins wider as he hears it, if that’s even possible.

He tackles you into the cushions, kissing your neck with soft pecks. “Next step: matching tattoos. Just saying.”

"Lando!" you cry out with a huff of amusement, knowing he's entirely joking.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding..." His quiet for a moment, then looks up at you again with a cheeky grin. "Unless..."

"Lando, no. If you want everyone to know you’re mine, I have a few other ways in mind..." Your hand reaches out to his collarbone, then traces soft lines up to his neck and jawline. Your touch is hot and familiar, slow and intentional. You can see him swallow hard as you do it.

"Oh, yeah? Maybe you could show me them. Just to make sure we're on the same page, love."

oscar piastri

Coffee dates with Oscar are a constant in your life. There's a small shop around the corner from his place that you love to visit on quiet, sunny days. When the sun rose that morning, seemingly shinning brighter than normal, and with a particually joyful sparkle, you knew it was a coffee date day.

It was the perfect time to show Oscar your new piece of jewellery.

He notices the necklace while you’re talking, halfway through a sip of his coffee, eyes slipping from your gaze to the number hanging around you neck. The unexpected, but not undesired, sight causes him to do a double take.

“Wait…” he leans in, interupting your sentence, though you don't mind. You only smile softly as he squints slightly, slowly taking in the sight infront of him, then blinks up at you with slight disbelief. “Is that... 81. My number?”

You nod just once, a little shy, and pick up the charm that dangle from the end of the chain, holding it closer for him to see. He leans in to meet you halfway. But before you can say anything else, a deep blush spreads across his face. He cheeks go an adorable shade of pink as you watch the cogs turn in his brain.

His mouth opens like he has a joke ready, but nothing comes out except a breathy little laugh.

“That’s… kinda cute,” he mutters, eyes still fixed on it like he’s really trying to quickly process all the implications of you going outside wearing his number so casually. “But, like, uh, cool cute. Really cool.” He clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck.

When you smile and say it’s because you like having him close all the time, he looks down, shaking his head with a small, dimply smile. The blush on his cheeks remains, though he looks less caught off guard than before.

“You’re gonna make me soft,” he murmurs, his hands reaching out to hold yours across the table. Then under his breath, he adds, “Will you wear it to the race next week? Please. Even just under your jumper.”

You agree, of course. You hadn't bought the necklace to hide it away, and you tell him as much. Your words just make him smile and pull you hand closer towards him to plant a gentle kiss to your knuckles. Then it's your turn to blush, squeezing his hand with a smile.

And when you do wear it the next week, proudly walking into the paddock hand in had with Oscar, his smile is brighter than any coffee date day sun has ever been.

carlos sainz

Carlos, the gentleman that he is, loved to plan spontaneous dates. One more occasions than one, what you thought was going to be a quiet night at home had turned into the romantic night out. Candles on resturant tables, hands holding your and taking out the chair for you, the whole deal. Which was how you once again found yourself picking out a fancy outfit, wit no idea which resterant you were going to.

It was sweet of him, though you did wish you had a little more to go on than just wear something pretty, not so hard you you, yes? to go off of while trying to pick your outfit. Settling on an old favourite outfit, you slipped into it with ease, only calling Carlos in when you realised you needed help zipping up the back. Upon hearing his name, he pattered into the room obediently, already dressed in his dress shirt and pants, look perfectly put together.

"Gorgeous, cariño," he whispered into your ear after doing as you asked, "Anything else you need, my love?"

With a barely concelled smirk, you went over to your jewellery box and pulled out your new necklace.

"Help me put this on?" you asked innocently, walking over to him, placing it delicately in his hand and turning around, patiently awaiting his reaction.

“¿Qué es esto?” he asks, his voice light and breathy.

You smile, though it's more of a smirk than anything, but don't turn around. “A little something I got, it's new.”

“Number fifty five?” he says, fingertips ghosting along the back of your neck as he put it on for you, then settling his touch onto your hips to admire your outfit in the mirrors reflection, his head resting on your shoulder. “Dios mío, I’ve turned you into a fangirl, hm?”

“I've always been a fan.”

His brows lift, amused and smug, head tilted slightly to the side. “Of me? Or just the accent?

“Mostly the arms,” you quip, resting your hands ontop of his.

He laughs, pulling you closer and pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. “That’s permanent, right? Not just for today? Because I kind of love seeing my number right there.”

“So everyone will know I'm yours?” you joke, voice light.

He kisses your temple, voice low. “Sí. I like it that way. I'm yours. And you're mine.”

alex albon

He’s on his way out the door, backpack on and car keys in hand, when he finally notices it hanging from your neck.

You had it on all day and waited patiently at breakfast, then on your walk together, then through lunch, and then while he was getting ready to leave your apartment. for him to notice, but he simply hadn’t. The whole day. That was, until now.

You we're glad he finally had, you would have hated to have spoiled the fun and justed showed it to him yourself after going through all the trouble of buying it secretly and hiding in in the back of your pjamama drawer.

Oh, well. At least he had spotted it before leaving, now the fun could begin.

His mouth drops open into the perfect little ‘o’ shape as he stares at the little shinny 23 hanging down from around your neck. His eyes are glued to the necklace, one outstretched finger pointing at it.

“Wait, what is that?”

You smile, and wave your hands around it with fluttering fingers. “A new necklace. Nice, right?”

He squints, then closes the front door softly and steps closer to you. “Is that my number?”

“Don’t let it get to your head.” You smirk, and tilt your head slightly to the side, trying to hold in your laugh at the stunned, suprised look on his face.

He dramatically clutches his chest, standing right in front of you now. “Too late. You’ve turned me into a puddle. I've melted.”

Then he leans in, eyes glowing with mischief as his hands reach out to grab your upper arms. “Just promise me one thing. Please?”

His voice drips with glee.

“What?”

“If someone, some guy, ever comes up to you in public... ask for your number or something, you better point to that necklace, and then say my name. Clearly. Loudly. Alex. Alex Albon. 23. Got it? Yeah?”

You roll your eyes, laughing at his bright smile. “You’re unbelievable."

“Unbelievably lovable, yes. Hence you having my number arounf your neck.”

You could only laugh harder at his smug expression and mock dramatic tone. After pressing a soft kiss to his lips, you reply, "You're so stupid. Truly.”

"Stupidly in love with you? Definitely."

"You're lucky I love you too."

"Luckiest guy in the world, I know."

charles leclerc

You'd been wearing it for a few days already, under jumpers and high necked shirts. it felt like a little secret, a constant reminder that Charles was with you even when we wasn't actually next to you. You weren't exactly keeping it a secret, per say, but you hadn't yet put it on display.

He notices it at the most random time, while you’re brushing your teeth, hair up, wearing one of his old shirts. The collor of the shirt, well-worn and stretch, dipped over your collarbone and revealling the shiny little necklace you were wearing under neither..

He squints, rubbing his eye from tiredness, or maybe slight disbelief. “Sixteen?”

You nod around a mouthful of toothpaste, toothbrush sticking out one side of your mouth, the edge of your lips curling up into a small smirk.

“Mon dieu,” he mutters, half teasing, half stunned, coming to stand behind you and wrapping his arms around possessively around your waist. He rests his weight onto you, curling into your warmth. “You’re more sentimental than me.”

You spit, rinse, and smile, Charles never moving from his place behind you. It's a purely domestic scene, a moment that reminds you how comfortbale you exist in eachother's orbit. “I wanted something cute to remind me of you. Something to keep with me when your away.”

He watches you through the mirror, soft eyes watching you move with a tired ease, hands pressing comforting circles into your hips. A constant warm presence. “You should have told me, I would loved to buy it for you. You deserve many pretty things, chérie.”

You lean back into him, letting his body mold to yours. You fit perfectly into eachothers embrace.

“I didn’t need you to buy it,” you murmur, reaching down to toy with the charm. “It felt more special this way. Like it was mine to choose.”

He hums into the crook of your neck, nose brushing softly against your skin. “Still,” he says, voice low and a little hoarse from sleep, “I would’ve added matching earrings. A whole Charles Leclerc collection.”

You snort, turning around to look him in the eyes, hands reaching out to hold his face between your palms. “I don’t need anything else. Just you.”

His expression shifts, tender and quietly overcome. He presses a slow kiss to your lips, then you forehead, and pulls you against him. “You have me. Even when I’m not here. Especially then.”

There’s a pause. A quiet that isn’t awkward or heavy, just full of feeling. He looks down at the necklace again, then back at you with a soft smile, one you only ever see when he's looking at you.

Charles sighs, breath warm and ticklish against your skin. “Sixteen looks good on you,” he says eventually. And those simple words hold within them a hundred different meanings you can't wait to dream about all night.

"I'll have to wear it more often, then," you say simply, and the words make him smile even wider.

lewis hamilton

You and Lewis had gotten to the truly domestic era of your relationship. You had keys to each other’s apartments, and you knew you could let yourselves into each other's spaces. So when Lewis texted you, saying he had work to do at home, but you were welcome to come and sit with him while he did it, exist in his orbit for the afternoon, you were soon letting yourself in his front door. Any chance to spend time with Lewis was an opportunity you took, escpeccialy given his busy schedule.

Lewis notices it the second you walk in, even if you don’t realise he’s looking. He’s lounging on the sofa with his laptop resting on his lap, reading something, probably reviewing data notes or one of the endless supply of emails he recieved, but the moment his eyes flick up and land on your necklace, all his focus slips away from him.

He closes the laptop slowly, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips, subtle and calm. The kind of smile that makes your chest ache with warmth and familiarity. Lewis' smiles had a way of making you feel whole.

“That’s for me?” he asks gently, nodding toward your necklace. His voice is quiet, curious. His gaze lingers on the number, just visible beneath the open collar of your shirt.

You glance down, fingers brushing over it self-consciously. “I thought it suited me,” you say, only half teasing.

He stands, putting the laptop on the coffee table infront of him, and crosses the room with unhurried ease.

One hand comes up to cradle the charm between his fingers, his thumb gliding over the number as though memorising it by touch.

“It suits you better than me,” he murmurs, a hint of joking in his tone, eyes lifting to yours. "I’m flattered.”

"Flattered?" you said, giggling slightly at his word choice.

"Well, yeah. A pretty girl is wearing my number, how else should I feel?" He lets the necklace fall back against your skin, then adds with a little smirk, “Might need to get something with your initials now. Y’know, to keep things balanced.”

You smirk, letting your hand rest on his chest. “What, like a bracelet? Property of...”

“Necklace. Tattoo. Your name embroidered on my socks... I’m not picky.” He shrugs and sighs dramatically, clearly enthralled by his own joke.

You lean into his embrace, shaking your head as he pulls you into a sweet kiss, his arms wrapping around you with familiar ease and comfort.

“You’re such a sap,” you murmured into his hoodie, resting your head on his chest as you speak.

“And you’re mine,” he said, grinning down at you, hand lingering on your lower back. “So I think we’re even.”

george russell

It’s a lazy Sunday morning spent at your usual breakfast spot. Just off a main road, the quiet atmosphere was the perfect place to unwind and relax on a slow morning. You were dressed casually, sunglasses pushed up on your head for look more than necessity, and your new favorite necklace catching the light and resting around your neck. The necklace, more than anything, you hoped he’d notice.

You slide into the booth across from him, pressing a kiss to his cheek first before sitting down, dropping your bag and stretching your arms out in front of you with a sleepy smile. You hadn't arrived together, George having to go to an extra early meeting and you prefering to sleep in on such a gorgeous morning. But it made it the perfect time to show off the new addition to your jewellery collection.

George doesn’t say anything at first, but you watch as his eyes widen slightly as he spots it. Instead of immediately reacting, he takes a slow moment to sip his coffee, watching you with that knowing look that makes your stomach flip.

Then, with a teasing smirk tugging at his lips, he tilts his head and says, “You’re really trying to make this obvious, huh?”

You glance across at him, shrugging and feigning confusion. “I don't know what you mean.”

He gestures toward your necklace with his half-finished coffee. “The whole ‘I’m madly in love with a certain F1 driver’ energy you’ve got going on with that necklace.”

You laugh, resting your chin on your upturned hand. “Maybe I just thought it looked cute. Favourite number. Totally nothing to do with you, sorry.”

“Mm,” he hums, matching your posture with his head on his own hand and leaning towards you slightly with a growing grin. “Or maybe you just wanted the world to know you’re taken.”

“Think it's working?”

“Oh, definitely,” he says, eyes gleaming and a light edge colouring his words. “But now I’m going to have to step up my game. Watch out. I might start wearing your initials. Embroidered. Everywhere. Just to make sure everyone knows I'm definitely off the market.”

You snort at his dramatics, but match his teasing tone. “George Russell, turning up to the paddock with my name monogrammed onto his fireproofs? Oh, the scandal!”

He grins, and laughs as he leans back in his chair. “You think I won’t?”

You roll your eyes and sigh, but you’re blushing now, and he can see it. He reaches across the table to tap your necklace gently with one finger and intertwined your hands with the other.

“It looks good on you,” he says, voice quieter now, sincere, like it’s a secret he doesn't want the rest of the room to hear. “I like knowing you carry a little piece of me around with you.”

Your smile softens, the moment suddenly feeling much softer than before. “I always do. Not just the necklace.”

He grins, like he’s won something more important than a race. “Still getting the monogrammed suit, though.”

“You’re such a menace.”

“A menace in love,” he says proudly, then flags down the waiter like nothing's happened.

taglist: @verogonewild

(comment if you would like to be added!)

[jobean12-blog]

Just My Type

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 1.5K

Summary: Bucky can’t imagine that he’s your type

Author’s Note: Bucky’s the perfect type of guy and no one can convince me otherwise (I’m sure you all agree :) thank you all so much for reading! Much love always🩷🩷🩷Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy🥰

Warnings: some fun, flirting, lots of fluff, bob’s a great wingman🤭

“What’re thinkin’ about?”

“Huh?” Bucky drags his eyes away from you and turns toward Bob.

“You seem deep in thought. What’s on your mind?” Bob asks.

“Nothin’ really,” Bucky answers, giving him a half-hearted smile.

“Nah, come on. You can tell me,” Bob says gently.

“What do you think she sees in guys like that?” Bucky asks, his eyes once again trained on you.

Bob follows his line of sight and purses his lips. “Nothing. She doesn’t look interested at all.”

Bucky scoffs and takes a slow sip of his beer. “That guy looks interested.”

“Obviously,” Bob says. “Who wouldn’t be.”

Bucky shifts his eyes to Bob and Bob immediately holds up his hands defensively. “I’m just saying. I get it.”

The metal plates in Bucky’s arm shift and whir under the leather of his jacket and he spins the beer bottle between his fingers as he thinks. “I don’t stand a chance.”

“What was that?” Bob asks, leaning forward.

Bucky just shakes his head, sighing and slumping over his beer.

“Why don’t you just ask her?”

“Ask her what? Bucky says.

“What she sees in them? Bob shoots back. “That’s the only way to find out.”

“Yeah, well….” Bucky can’t finish his sentence because you start to head their way.

“Now’s your chance,” Bob whispers before he smiles at you.

“What are you guys up to over here?” you ask when you stop in front of Bucky.

“Nothin’,” Bucky smiles at the same time Bob starts to say, “Bucky was just wondering what you see in those guys.”

Bucky shoots Bob a death glare.

“What guys?” you ask, your eyes on Bucky.

“Like the one you were talking to by the dart game,” Bob clarifies.

“Not my type at all,” you answer.

“Told ya so,” Bob says with a light elbow in Bucky’s shoulder.

“Well not your type is headed our way,” Bucky grumbles as he straightens his shoulders.

You turn to catch the guy that was chatting you up at darts heading your way.

“He just can’t take a hint,” you say under your breath.

“Hey, there you are,” the guy says as he slides up next to you. “I thought you were getting another drink.”

“I’m going to,” you start, “but I wanted to see my…”

Before you can finish the sentence, Bob chimes in and says, “boyfriend.”

“Who? You?” the guy says, pointing to Bob.

Bob starts to shake his head no and then Bucky stands and slides his arm around your waist, tucking you against his side and saying, “no. Me.”

Bob chuckles from behind you but quickly stifles it when Bucky narrows his eyes.

“You didn’t say you had a boyfriend,” the guy frowns.

“Well. I do,” you say as you rest your head on Bucky’s chest.

“I wouldn’t have spent so much time chatting you up if I didn’t think I had a chance of getting some,” the guy scoffs.

Your mouth falls open and you feel Bucky tense next to you. Even Bob slides around front and stands at your other side.

“Now that wasn’t the right thing to say,” Bucky grits out, his tone hard.

You turn your face up to Bucky and smile. “Now do you see why I’m not interested.”

Bucky smiles back and let’s his hand slide over the curve of your hip. “Yeah doll, I think I get it.”

The guy from darts just stands there, looking between the three of you.

“That was your cue to leave,” Bucky growls. “Unless you need me to make you…”

The guy throws his hands up in surrender and backs away, quickly turning on his heel before disappearing near the bathrooms.

“He was going on and on about his big tricked out truck outside,” you say, emphasizing the words “ big and tricked out,” with sarcasm and a roll of your eyes. “Too bad he didn’t get a look at your bike.”

You grin at Bucky when you say it and see his eyes light up.

“I’ll take you for a ride anytime you want doll face.”

“I could get used to this boyfriend thing,” you murmur, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear.

“I think he’d like that.”

If your eyes weren’t already focused on Bucky’s lips you would have sworn he said the words. But his lips never moved, and it takes you a second to remember that Bob is still standing next to you.

You whip your head Bob’s way, and he smiles brightly and nods. Your head falls into Bucky’s chest, and you start to shake with laughter.

“What?” Bob asks with his eyebrows drawn in.

Bucky’s mouth lifts into a sideways grin. “Where’s Yelena?”

Bob’s eyes scan the room, and he finds her standing by the dart game with a knife poised between her fingers.

“About to play darts with her knife,” Bob says as if it’s nothing.

“Why don’t you go play with her,” Bucky says.

“I’ll never win,” Bob retorts.

You look over at Yelena and catch her eye, subtly conveying through the unspoken girl bond that you want her to get rid of Bob for you.

She naturally gets the idea and waves at Bob, motioning for him to come join her.

“See,” Bucky says, somewhat shocked but then looking down at you and giving you a knowing smile. “She wants you to play.”

Bob smiles and says goodbye as he rushes off to join her.

“I’d kick both their asses,” Bucky says.

“Of course you would Buck,” you reply and pat his chest.

“Thanks for saving me before,” you tell him, turning in his hold and wrapping your arms around his neck.

You give him a hug and then a soft kiss near the corner of his mouth. “I would never have gone home with that guy.”

Bucky’s quiet for a moment, still savoring the feel of your lips on his skin.

“So then…what’s your type?” he asks.

“Hm. Well…,” you start. “I prefer darker features…dark hair.”

You run your fingers lightly through the hair at the back of his neck. “And I love facial hair.”

Your fingertips trace the line of his jaw, gently scratching through his scruff. “Especially when there’s these little patches of gray.”

He sucks in a small breath, his eyelashes fluttering and the tops of his cheeks turning a light pink.

“Beautiful eyes…”

You hold his stare. “Especially framed by long dark lashes I wish I had.” You follow that statement with a little laugh.

“Your eyelashes are perfect,” he whispers, and you smile.

“But the most important thing is that he has a good heart.”

You follow those words with the flat press of your palm to his chest, right over the rapid thumping of his heart.

He closes his hand around yours, squeezing lightly as he tugs you closer and dips his head.

“Anything else?” he asks.

“A good kisser would be a big plus.”

“I think I can handle that,” he says, his warm breath fanning your lips.

He releases your hand, sliding it down along your arm to your back where his fingers splay and he gently brings you closer. The first contact is just a brush of his lips over yours, the briefest sweep.

You’re already sure it’s going to be the best kiss of your life and when you hear the quietest moan escape his throat he leans in again, pressing his soft, strong mouth to yours and taking your top lip between his, sucking gently, before he turns his attention to your bottom one.

With a smile forming against the kiss, he tilts his head and slides his hand at your back higher, cupping the nape of your neck and taking you with a heat you couldn’t have predicted but makes you feel like you’re free falling backward into the clouds.

His other hand smooths over the curve of your waist and up to rest warmly on your cheek, his thumb caressing your soft skin while he kisses you senseless.

Everything is quiet before you hear cheers from the back of the bar and he slowly releases you, pressing his lips to yours softly again and again before he pulls back.

“Bucky Barnes,” you whisper as you bury your face in his neck. “Are you trying to kill me?”

Yelena and Bob continue to clap, and he takes your chin between his fingers, bringing your eyes back to his.

“Nah doll. Just hoping that kiss was good enough to snag me a date.”

“A date? After that kiss I’ll marry you.”

“Even better,” he winks before his lips meet yours again.

[luveline]

can we have dad!steve where he doesn’t shave and r actually loves it? ty <3

thank you for requesting ❤︎ fem, 1k

“What are you looking at?” 

You duck your head. “Nothing,” you say, giving Avery a little scowl. “Why don’t you mind your business?” 

Completely unused to your aggression, Avery bursts into giggles and points at you. “Silly,” she says, kneeling by your feet. She grabs her Barbie from your lap and gives her a wiggle. “Why don’t you mind your manners?” she says through a pout. 

“Nosey girl.” Avery nearly landed you in hot water. You retrieve Dove’s Dotty Dolly from the floor and stand her in front of Barbie. “Don’t be such a tattle.” 

“I am not!” Avery denies. 

“Then let’s talk about something else.” 

“Like what?” 

“Like where ladybugs come from.” 

Avery’s eyes go wide and bright. “The dirt, mom.” 

You’re not ten minutes into a skit on ladybug-Barbie when another presence is making itself known beside you. “Hi,” Steve says, smile in his eyes as he crosses his legs beneath himself, sitting squarely left of you and right of Avery. 

“Hi, daddy.” 

Steve nods at her hands. “What are we playing?” 

“We’re doing Barbie as a ladybug-girl,” Avery says, leaning into Steve’s thigh. He rests a hand on her back and she begins to melt into his hold, until she’s folding funny across him and he’s hugging her shoulders. 

“That sounds fun,” he says. 

“Do you want to play?” 

“Please. But don’t cheap out on me, I want a Barbie with clothes and shoes.” 

Avery looks like she might roll her eyes. “Dad, none of them have shoes.” 

“I put all their shoes back on like, two days ago,” he says, his outrage lost to her hair as she shoves her face into his chest. Steve’s easy smile calms. “What’s the matter, baby?” he asks. “You need a nap?” 

Avery mumbles. 

Steve leans down to put his ear next to her lips. “What? Tell me again, honey.” 

Avery whispers into his ear. Steve glances at you from over her head, his face set in an expression you have trouble deciphering. He presses his nose to her hair, says, “Thank you for telling me.” 

“Wait, what’s wrong?” you ask. If Avery’s not feeling well, you want to know. 

Steve releases Avery from his hug and she gives you an owlish stare that clears things up for you quickly, worse when Steve says, “Oh, nothing, just– My Avery says you got a staring problem. Care to explain?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You catch Avery’s eye, mouthing ‘tattle’ as she giggles and flees the living room altogether. 

“Avery said you’re looking at me and asking her not to tell me.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “So. What gives?” 

You shrug and lean away from him, the top half of you coming to rest on the big bean bag that the girls use for naps. It flusters beneath you. 

Steve leans back too. Your eyes love the cut of his t-shirt and the jeans hugging his legs, his pink-kitty socks and his hair curling at the nape of his neck. But the thing you like most, the thing that’s caught your attention all day, to your own surprise, is the dark stubble around his mouth. Steve has a ‘stache, and you don’t want him to know how much you like it. 

So weird. The girls hate it because it makes their kisses scratchy, but you don’t mind it. Didn’t mind it on your neck last night, and won’t mind when he kisses your cheek at dinner. If he showers tonight he’ll probably shave, too, and you won’t mind, you like him clean shaven. He always has been. 

Who knew he could find new things for you to crush on? 

Steve lowers his voice. “What, are you, like, pent up?” he asks with a laugh. 

You shove his knee with your foot until he grabs your ankle. “Shh!” you laugh. “No, I’m not, thank you very much. You think you’re such a lady killer.” 

“Well, you like me,” he says. 

“That’s astute. How’ve you worked that one out?” 

“Oh, you’re funny,” he says, pulling at your leg, dragging it over his. He pulls at you until you’re splayed over his lap, giggling at your limpness and the quiet thump of your head on the rug as you go flat. Gentle, he works his hands behind your back, leans in, and gathers you into his arms. One minute you’re laying down and then done, there, you’re in his lap. 

“Steve…” you say, laughing, letting your hands rest on his hips. 

“Let me look at you,” he says, lifting his chin. 

You stay very still. 

He rubs the small of your back with his knuckles as his eyes flit from one plane of your face to another. You shift a little when your knees begin to protest, but Steve doesn’t flinch, waiting for you to settle again before he meets your eyes. “Why were you staring at me?” he asks finally.

“I think you look handsome today,” you confess. 

“Really?” 

“Mm-hm. I like this,” you say, raising a finger to his lip. You touch the hair there and draw a line down to his chin. “The last time you grew out your scruff I didn’t like it, remember? But I don’t know. I sort of love it.” You press your forehead to his chin, then, fingers tied up in his t-shirt. 

You’d forgotten you weren’t gonna tell him. 

Steve doesn’t make fun of you. He presses a kiss like a light touch to your cheek, hand on the small of your back encouraging you closer to him. 

“That’s why you’re staring?” he asks. 

“No, I don’t know. I guess I wanted you to kiss me.” 

“I can kiss you. You don’t have to want it without saying anything,” he admonishes, bemusement in his voice and the slip of his fingers running under your t-shirt to tickle your lower back. 

You straighten up from his touch and he chases you for a kiss.

“Scratchy,” you murmur into his mouth. 

Smile to smile, Steve kisses you soundly, laughs against you, the itch of his nice-silly moustache under your nose. You almost sneeze. 

“I can get rid of it,” he says. 

Oh, honey, you nearly say, laughing into his cheek. “I like it, just, your girls don’t handle change well.” 

“They’ll get used to it,” he says surely, though you both know he’ll be in the bathroom with a razor and a rag the next time one of his girls refuses a kiss.

[barnes-babydoll]

You’re the Glue | b.b 𐙚˙⋆.˚

Pairing | New Avengers!Bucky Barnes x New Avengers!Reader

Summary | After a mission goes horribly wrong, the team ends up stewing in their own anger on the car ride home. You try to lighten the mood, but instead it makes everyone angrier. When you're down, Bucky’s there to comfort you.

Warnings/tags | Thunderbolts* spoilers?? Tower fic, fluff, friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, yearning, cursing, nsfw, MDNI (18+), smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, praise kink, soft dom!Bucky, kissing, protective!Bucky, breast play, oral (f receiving), fingering, your honor Bucky’s obsessed with reader, no use of y/n.

Word Count | 12.3k

A/N | Baby's first fanfic!! I’ve been wanting to write for some time and how fitting that my first one is about my husband. Please have mercy on me, I write for fun. It’s not great, but I had a blast writing it. I hope you enjoy!! And if you did let me know:))

It’s a cold day. The kind of cold that sits deep in your bones, chilling you to your very core. No snow is on the ground, but it’s getting close to that time of year. You shiver in your seat, wrapping your arms tightly around your middle to bring warmth back into your system.

The car sways slightly with the intense winds, but Bucky has a firm handle on the wheel, keeping it steady. Silence settles over the car; only the occasional groan, sigh, and low engine rumble break the quiet.

The team just completed a mission, and though everything worked out in the end, it didn’t seem to matter. Many things had gone wrong. The intel you had gathered was bad, the plan was thrown out the window, and the whole team was out of sync. All of that caused a rift between the members in the car.

Bucky’s driving, grip so tight on the wheel that his knuckles are white. You’re not sure if it’s from anger that the team had entirely ignored the meticulous plan you and Bucky had put together hours before you left, or if the uncomfortable silence is eating at him like it is you.

Yelena is in the passenger seat, feet propped up on the dash, picking at the chipped polish on her nails. Her face says everything. She’s pissed. At everyone, but specifically Walker.

During the mission, he went to throw a punch, and instead of hitting his original target, he clocked Yelena right in the jaw. You don’t think she meant to get in the way, but she was just so occupied with getting the mission done that she wasn’t too keen on her surroundings. Now, a purple bloom of color is setting into her skin, along with other marks littered across her face and body, not unlike the others sitting in the car.

Walker is sitting in the bench seat ahead of you, closest to the window. He’s rubbing at his jaw, where Yelena punched him as “payback” on the walk back to the car. When Walker hit her, it was an accident. She didn’t see it that way; no one could convince her otherwise. You had to stifle a laugh when it happened because it was so abrupt, but also because of the clear shock on John’s face.

Ava’s next to him, arms crossed over her chest, and her brows drawn together. She occasionally bumps Walker with her elbow when the car drifts off its straight path, causing grunts and a string of low curses from the blonde man’s mouth.

Alexei’s eyes are closed, no doubt sleeping, next to Ava, who paid him no mind. You don’t think he’s upset with anyone, but the stillness lulled him to sleep, and you’re envious that he can nap at a time like this. But he can doze off at any time, no matter the circumstance. One time, you found him snoring upright while waiting for the microwave to beep, notifying him that his ramen was finished.

Bob is to your left on the second bench seat. You can feel the anxiety radiating off of him. Though he hadn’t helped out on the mission, he decided to come along for the ride. But he most likely regrets his decision now because he hates seeing the team like this. Bob always tries to lighten the mood, but he knows it’s useless this time.

You, on the other hand, don’t share everyone else’s sentiments. Yeah, every single thing was fucked from the start. But at least the job is done, and no one has any serious injuries, which is a win in your book.

Your head is swimming with ways to get everyone to stop sulking, but you don’t want to make an already bad situation worse. So, you settle on breaking the silence and suffering the consequences.

“Still on for movie night?” You say almost sheepishly, but there’s a hint of amusement in your tone. You’re met with silence. Only Bob looks your way briefly before his head drops between his shoulders, eyeing the floor. Instead of letting that deter you, you continue your pursuit.

“John picked last time, so it’s someone else’s turn. And I don’t think I can sit through another shit action movie. It’s just an excuse for men to blow shit up at this point.” That earns a strained laugh from the man beside you, but he doesn’t lift his head.

”Hell no.” Yelena grumbles from the front seat. “After this car ride, I am not sitting next to any of you.”

”I second that notion.” Walker pipes up, rolling his eyes in the process.

”At least there’s something we can agree on.” Ava ‘accidentally’ knocks her elbow into Walker’s arm again, and he looks like he’s seconds away from losing it.

You sit up in your seat, trying to draw their attention. “Oh, come on. We always watch a movie every other Friday. It’s tradition.”

John shakes his head. “Not happening.”

”I made homemade brownies, and I’ll make popcorn.” You put on your best smile, even if it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. Your smile quickly fades when no one answers. You glance around the car, and not a single soul is looking your way.

You lock eyes with Bucky in the rearview mirror. He loosens his grip on the steering wheel and gives you an almost apologetic expression. Your heart stutters in your chest. It’s a simple gesture but still melts some tension away from your shoulders.

You and Bucky have become friends over the last few months, or at least that’s what you’d like to think. When you first met the super soldier, he was closed off, grumpy, and didn’t talk much outside of a mission. But if you were lucky, you’d earn a stiff nod or grunt in response.

You strangely saw him as some sort of challenge. And you never backed down from a challenge. He didn’t have to like you, but you at least wanted to get more than a gruff sound from deep in his chest.

You started to memorize his schedule. Not like a creep, you just noticed the little things he did throughout the day. He wasn’t a morning person, so you avoided him until he finished his early workout. Usually, that changed his mood drastically; his posture was less guarded, and his expression had softened slightly.

He’d come to the kitchen after exercising, and you’d always have coffee ready, offering him a cup. Plain black coffee, just the way he likes it. You’d slide the mug near him with some sweet treat you had made prior that week. He would nod as a thanks, which had already been a small victory.

The common room was a safe place for him to gather intel or scope out potential missions. Pieces of paper were sprawled out on the table, and a soft glow illuminated his face from the screen on his laptop.

You caught on pretty quickly to what he was doing and started asking if he needed help. He always looked up from his work, stormy blue eyes meeting yours, and shook his head, no. Unfortunately for him, you were persistent.

You flopped down in the seat next to him with your laptop. His dark eyebrows knit together in confusion as he stared at you from behind his screen. You propped your head in your hand while the other was busy scrolling through articles, news reports, and random findings online.

You turned your screen around, giving him the vital information you found. Soon after, you began working together as a team, granting you much more than his usual guttural noises. From then on, everything was a breeze. Well, not exactly a breeze, but you considered him your friend.

Bucky made small talk in the morning over coffee, complementing you on whatever pastry, muffin, or dessert you made. He asked you to spar with him after John had slept in one morning. You were giddy with excitement that he chose you, but that feeling disappeared when he kicked your ass that day. Your chest heaved with exertion as your body slumped down on the mat, sore and aching. You knew he wouldn’t go easy on you, which was okay with you. You just had to step up your game.

It became easier to spar with Bucky after learning his tells. He would give you a few helpful pointers, which your original sparring partner, Yelena, hadn’t cared to do.

There were plenty of late nights between the two of you. You and Bucky hunched over a laptop, leaning into each other's space while researching and losing sleep.

But, if you’re being honest, you didn’t mind being sleep-deprived because you liked being next to him. Breathing in his scent, a mix of sandalwood, musk, and a hint of spearmint. Hearing the snort he let out when you made a joke. Seeing the corner of his lip turn up when you get animated about certain information.

It had turned from friends in your head to perhaps…more. You developed a crush on the tall, dark-haired man. Of course, you knew he was handsome; you weren’t blind. But you thought maybe the butterflies dancing in your stomach from his laugh or smile would go away. Then, his metal hand brushed against your skin. You’d feel like your world was turned on its axis and knew your attraction to him wouldn’t go away anytime soon.

As you sit in the car, gaze locked on Bucky’s blue irises, you must force yourself to look away so your heart doesn’t beat out of your chest. You tell yourself to try again to shake the team out of their irritated state. Maybe that will take your mind off your intense feelings for Bucky.

”We can order in Chinese. That’s always a comfort food of mine.” You offer.

Yelena turns entirely in her seat, shooting daggers at you. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

Your back hits the seat as if she stabbed you. Yelena never raises her voice at you, not even when angry, because she’s never angry at you.

You consider Yelena more of a friend than anyone in the car. You connect more deeply with her, for which you are genuinely grateful. But now, as she stares you down, you feel a sense of dread putting down roots in the pit of your stomach.

“What?” It comes out smaller than you intended, and you can hear the hurt in your voice. Bucky hears it and immediately tries to meet your gaze in the mirror, but your eyes are directly on Yelena’s. They’re usually deeply warming, but there’s only a raging fire right now.

“Not everything is a puzzle you can assemble and force the pieces to fit. You can’t make everything better. You don’t make anything better.” Yelena’s voice is booming in your ears, loud and harsh. You feel too vulnerable. Too seen. You don’t know whether to scream or cry. You decide to stay silent instead, letting the anger boil beneath the surface.

”Knock it off, Yelena.” Bucky speaks up. His jaw is clenched, as if he could say more, but he chooses not to. You’re glad he doesn’t, though, because you might just let yourself cry in front of the team. All anyone will see is just how broken and raw you feel on the inside. But the others in the car don’t seem to be paying too much attention. Either they’re trying their hardest to ignore it, or they’re determined not to get involved.

Yelena’s eyes haven’t left yours, completely ignoring Bucky’s warning. “I’m sick of you trying to fix everything. Just let it be broken for once.” The anger threatens to bubble up, but you keep it at bay.

”Enough!” Bucky seethes at Yelena, whipping his head in her direction. Yelena finally settles back into her seat, satisfied with releasing her wrath on you.

You take a deep breath in before you say a word. ”Got it. Loud and fucking clear.” Your voice is steady, firm even. You're not going to let everyone see the raw and bleeding parts of you. Not now. Not ever. You glance out the window, a storm brewing behind your eyes, focusing on how the buildings pass by in a flash.

You hear a soft groan in front of you, but you don’t look for the source of the sound, too busy stewing in your irritation. “Did I fall asleep?” You recognize the voice as Alexei’s. He rubs the sleep from his eyes and pats his thighs, sitting up in his seat. “Well, what did I miss?”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Everyone breaks off in different directions once they’re back at the Tower. No one has said a word. Maybe it’s better that way so that everyone can cool down. Bucky follows behind you, keeping just enough distance for it not to be noticeable. He wants to check on you but isn’t quite sure how.

You’re quiet, and your muscles are taut, which is unlike you. Bucky knows all your intricate details, and you are far from a quiet person. Sure, there’s a gentleness about you, but you’re also lively. Especially when it comes to you talking about your passions. Your face lights up, and it’s as if the colors around you are suddenly brighter.

One of his favorite things is to catch you in the kitchen, hips swaying to the smooth music drifting through the speakers. You always seem in your element when baking and humming along to the song while your hands are whisking. Bucky would be embarrassed if anyone caught him, but it’s addicting. You’re addicting.

When the gentle parts of you come to the surface, it’s like watching a butterfly float through the air. There’s something so delicate about that side of you, like you're made of glass.

You’re constantly checking up on the team. You make sure they’ve eaten or drank enough water, or if they need a person to talk to. You’re always there. And now, no one is there for you when you need it most, which kills Bucky.

You’re speed walking to your room, arms tucked against your chest as if you’re closing in on yourself. Bucky practically trips over his feet, trying to catch up to you. He calls your name, but you don’t seem to hear. He finally gets close enough to grab hold of your arm. Not forcefully, just a light touch against your skin to pull you out of your daze.

Your breath hitches in your throat at the sudden contact, and you stop dead in your tracks. You glance down at where his flesh hand is and then up at his eyes. He drops his hand to rest at his side when he has your attention. His fingertips tingle from touching your skin, and it feels like tiny jolts of electricity.

There’s a beat of silence as he clenches and unclenches his fist before he clears his throat. “So, no movie night?”

”You heard them, it’s not happening.” You mumble, your voice is so soft. He might've missed it if he hadn’t been beside you.

“Right,” Bucky murmurs back, matching your tone so he doesn’t scare you away. He wants to say he’s still up for it, but then it’ll just be the two of you. Then again, is that so bad? You stare at each other without speaking. He opens his mouth to say something, but you cut him off.

”Look, I’m pretty tired. I’m gonna go to bed. It’s been a long day.” You rub a hand over your arm, where he touched you, and now he’s spiraling. Maybe she didn’t want to be touched, and now she’s trying to rid her skin of any trace of me. He shakes the thought away and gives you a stiff nod.

“Of course, you must be exhausted. Goodnight, I’ll see you in the morning.”

”Night.” You give him a tight-lipped smile before turning away and heading to your room, disappearing into the hallway's darkness.

Bucky stands there, one hand on his forehead, as he rubs at the growing headache. His mind is racing. He should have said so many things and asked if you were okay or wanted to talk about it. But Bucky was never truly good with feelings. He’d rather cram them deep down inside than open that Pandora’s box of issues.

He’s getting better, though, revealing the dark parts of himself. The nightmares, the memories that make his muscles tense, Hydra. Not to everyone, just to you. And you always listen. You make it your purpose to give him all your attention; he knows he doesn’t deserve that. But you give that part of yourself so freely.

He can’t just stand idly by while you’re hurting. So, he turns from his spot and wanders around the Tower to find Yelena. She’s not too hard to find. She’s standing in the kitchen watching her mug rotate around in the microwave with a cookie in her mouth. Bucky stands right behind her, hands on his hips.

”Apologize.”

Yelena spins around, clutching the spot on her chest right over her heart with her eyebrows raised. “Fuck, James. Give a girl some warning.” Her voice comes out muffled from her mouth full of crumbs.

“You’re an ex-assassin. You’re supposed to hear me coming from a mile away.” Bucky deadpans.

Yelena swallows down what’s in her mouth before speaking. ”I am off the clock. My guard is down.” She shrugs her shoulders, then points a finger at the super soldier as if scolding him. “Plus, I was chewing. I could have choked.”

Bucky ignores her dramatics and repeats himself. “Apologize.”

”No.” She whirls around as the microwave beeps and takes out the cup of hot water, placing it on the counter.

”Why?”

Yelena grabs a white packet from the cupboard, ripping off the top and shaking the contents into her mug. “Because I’m sick of her being so positive all the time.” She grabs a spoon from the drawer to stir the rich chocolate liquid.

“And? What’s wrong with that? This team needs a little fucking positivity.” Bucky snaps.

She twists to face Bucky, leaning against the counter and bringing the cup of hot chocolate to her lips. “Seems like you need a little positivity.”

“Yeah, maybe I do.” Bucky lowers his voice; his mind flicks to you and how content you make him when you’re around. “Listen, without her, this team would be nothing.”

Yelena tilts her head; her voice is thick with faux pity. “Are you saying she’s the glue that holds us together?”

“Yes,” Bucky says simply. Even if she doesn’t mean what she says, that’s precisely what he meant. You’re the glue.

Yelena quirks a brow. “Have you gone soft, Barnes?

He disregards her question and continues. “Just apologize.”

“Fine, fine. Don’t get your panties in a twist. I will…tomorrow.” She takes another swig of the dark liquid.

“No, right now.”

Yelena rolls her eyes and begins walking out of the kitchen, Bucky hot on her heels. “I’m tired. I’ll do it bright and early tomorrow so you can see her beautiful smile.” He pauses for a moment, caught off guard by her statement. She smirks at him over her shoulder as she strides to her room. He recovers quickly, following her again.

She snorts when he doesn’t answer. “That is what this is about, right? You can’t stand to see her sad. It’s breaking you. Making you have all kinds of feelings. Your little heart can’t take it.” Yelena opens her door, getting ready to close it behind her.

“No, that’s not-.” Before he can deny her revelation, she interrupts him.

“Goodnight, Barnes. Or should I say loverboy?” Yelena gives him a smug look, wiggling her eyebrows before closing the door in his face.

Great, he thinks, that’s what I get for prying.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

It’s been a couple of hours, and you're still lying in bed, wide awake, to your dismay. You spent about an hour tossing and turning, then another hour staring at the ceiling. Now, you can’t decide between a blanket or no blanket. Maybe you need a glass of water, but no, scratch that; you need a drink.

You can’t help but play the day's events over in your head: the mission, Yelena’s words, Bucky. Your skin still prickles where he touched your arm. He was so gentle with you, as if you were fragile.

Of course, he knows you're not. You’ve tripped him up a few times while sparring, knocking him flat on his ass. That shouldn’t give you as much thrill as it does, but who can blame you?

Still, you think about his hand gingerly placed on your arm as he examined you with concern etched on his face. And, you had pushed him away. Not because you didn’t want him. Fuck, you wanted him. But you knew if you opened up and let him see how wounded you were, that would leave you more exposed than you already felt. You’re wishing you had stayed. Let him take your mind off everything, but it’s too late.

You kick your feet over the side of the bed and amble over to your bedroom door, neglecting to put on your slippers. You pad through the hallway, and a figure in the living room snags your attention.

Bucky is on the couch, a quilt draped over his legs as colors dance across his form, and he’s taking you in. You note how his shoulders drop and his features soften, almost as if he were waiting for you. But that’s absurd. You rid the thought immediately.

He pulls you out of your daze as his voice cuts through the air. “You alright?”

You shrug, gesturing to him on the sofa. “I could ask you the same question.”

His gaze flicks down as if noticing where he is and what he’s doing. “Oh, yeah, I couldn’t sleep.” He focuses back on you, no doubt wanting you to answer his question.

“Me either.” You tip your thumb in the direction of the kitchen. “You want a drink?”

“Sure, sounds good to me.”

You go to the bar, rummaging through the liquor cabinet until you find what you are searching for—a clear glass bottle with dark amber liquid. You couldn’t care less about how much it cost, but you can tell by the ornate design of the bottle that it had to cost half a fortune. It's not something you have the money for, especially before this job, but Valentina always supplied the best for appearance's sake.

You take two short whiskey glasses from the shelf, setting them on the counter before detaching the glass stopper from the geometric bottle. You fill both glasses halfway and head back to the living room.

You step around the couch and hand Bucky his. He nods in appreciation as you sink into the spot next to him. You’re close enough to feel his warmth, but there’s still some distance between you.

You take a sip of the liquid. A smooth, smoky, and vanilla flavor hits your taste buds and floods your senses—a welcoming contrast to distract from how shitty you feel.

You already feel a thousand times better, Bucky next to you, the liquor calming you, and the steady sound of the TV playing in the background. You tip your head toward the TV as you get comfortable.

You turn towards him as your arm rests on the back of the couch, elbow bent so your hand can support your head. “Having movie night without me?”

He shakes his head. ”No, never. It just happened to be on.” The corner of your lip lifts, and your chest warms. You can’t tell if it’s from the whisky heating your body temperature or the way he said never, and you think you might believe him.

”Well, you are watching a movie on movie night, so that’s a little suspicious.” You tease.

”Shit, I guess I am.” There’s amusement in his voice as a faint smile appears. He rubs the back of his neck. “Sorry, doll. I would’ve invited you but thought you wanted to be alone.”

You hum in response. “I thought I did, too, but I was wrong.”

Bucky’s tone turns serious as he scans your face. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

”Hell no. Distract me, please.”

“Anything for you.” He says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. You swear your heart skips a beat, and your cheeks flush slightly. Somehow, you know he’s not just saying that to make you feel better. You feel like you can breathe easier knowing that.

“Anything, huh?”

”Just say the words, sweetheart.”

“Care to share that blanket?” You think the whisky is calming you and giving you hidden confidence you didn’t know you had.

”I s’pose.” He drawls with a smirk on his face. You scoot closer, and he lifts the quilt, covering your legs. It was never about needing warmth, just an excuse to be near him.

“Much better.” You mumble.

Bucky stares at you, blue eyes flicking between your features like he’s trying to memorize you, and a shiver runs through you under his gaze. He clears his throat, running his metal hand through his hair.

“Right, distraction.” He leans his head back against the couch, examining the ceiling as he sifts through his brain for a topic of discussion. All you can think of is how distracted you already are.

“Oh, got it.” He locks his eyes with yours once again. “Alexei was riding the elevator this morning.”

Your eyebrows draw together, utterly confused. “That’s usually what happens.”

”For half an hour.”

You giggle at how strange that sounds. “Wait, why?”

”I don’t know. When I asked him about it, he said he was testing a theory and then swore me to secrecy. So, you can’t say anything.” He arches a brow. “I’m pretty sure he just pressed all the buttons, though.”

Laughter bubbles out of your mouth, exactly what you need. You’re hurt, and anger is a distant feeling.

“I have one.” Bucky nods his head for you to continue. “Ava phased through the bathroom the other day, and I was completely naked.”

His jaw drops, and then he proceeds to bust out laughing. It’s a sound you never get tired of hearing, probably because it’s so rare, but also from the way it makes your stomach do somersaults. “That’s the one place you shouldn’t phase into. Is she ever going to learn how to knock?”

”I wouldn’t hold out hope. She apologized profusely, but I know she won’t stop doing it.” You put your glass on the coffee table to give him your attention.

“I don’t know how to top that one.” There’s still a lingering grin fixed on his lips as he thinks for a moment. “I caught Walker watching Titanic. He kept telling me it was already on when he sat down.”

”I knew he was a sucker for romance.” You pause, tilting your head and narrowing your eyes at him. “Wait, that means you’ve watched Titanic.”

”Of course, I have. People say it’s one of the classics.”

“And, what did you think?”

“It was good.” You can hear the reluctance in his tone. You give him a look to carry on. Bucky rolls his eyes, but there’s no malice behind it. “Jack clearly could have fit on that door.”

“Right?” Your voice goes up an octave, and you're grinning from ear to ear like a lovesick fool. “Yelena and I had a whole conversation about how they could've made it work.” Your face drops immediately after you realize what you said.

You let out a long breath, and suddenly, whatever is on the TV is extremely interesting. Your eyes are directly on the person on the screen, but you’re not paying much attention because your head is spinning again.

Why are Yelena’s words affecting you so much? You’ve never truly cared what other people think. But, then again, she’s your friend. Perhaps your best friend. Shouldn’t her opinion matter?

Bucky breaks your train of thought, not easily deceived by your sudden intrigue in the television. “She’s wrong, y’know?”

“Hmm?”

“You do make everything better.” His words are like silk, soft and comforting. You whip your head to meet his gaze. There’s a slight smile on his lips; the color in his eyes is swirling and shifting. It’s like a tide pulling you in and telling you, you’re safe. You fully trust that he will keep you safe, and you won’t overlook that.

You return his smile, and the light reaches your eyes. He parts his lips and sucks in a breath—it’s subtle, but you notice. You don’t know what to say, but settle on, “Thank you, Bucky.”

“Sure thing, doll.”

You turn your attention to the TV to hide the blush crawling up your cheeks. Then, because that liquid courage is coursing through your veins, you rest your head on his shoulder. Bucky tenses beneath you, and you internally kick yourself for making him uncomfortable. You almost pick your head up. As if he’s reading your thoughts, he relaxes, and his breathing becomes lighter.

You stay like that for a while, enjoying each other’s company as you watch the movie. Your lids feel heavy, and before you know it, they flutter shut. You’re sleeping on Bucky’s arm like you belong there.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Bucky noticed your breathing even out about twenty minutes ago, but he’s still watching you like you're a masterpiece in the Louvre. He’s scrutinizing every aspect of your person as if he’ll be quizzed on it later. He wants to pull you into his arms and tuck your head under his chin as you lie on his chest, but he doesn’t want to overstep a boundary.

He doesn’t think he’s ever been this calm; it’s refreshing. To forget about any piece of his past for a second and drown in you. There’s no promise of nightmares or bad memories taking shape at the forefront of his mind.

Bucky yawns and leans his head against the back of the sofa. Maybe I’ll rest my eyes for a moment, he thinks before closing them and drifting off to sleep.

The sun peeking through the curtains stirs him awake, and he reluctantly opens his eyes. Your head is still a gentle weight on his arm, which brings a sleepy smirk to his face.

It dawns on him how this must look, and he realizes he should get up before any team member sees. Yelena’s already hinting at his crush on you. He can’t have everyone on him about how dopey he must look, staring at you like you hung the stars.

Bucky slowly moves from his spot on the couch, careful not to rouse you. He takes your head in one hand and shifts to stand up. Bending over, he grabs a pillow and maneuvers it under you. He delicately pulls your legs and sets them on the couch, draping the blanket's full length over your shape. Your body twitches slightly as you settle into the new position.

He steals one last glance at your peaceful demeanor as he stretches. He groans at the sharp pain in his upper back and neck, no doubt from the way he fell asleep. But he honestly doesn’t care. He’d do it all over again to feel any part of you on him. Bucky leaves you to get some much-needed rest as he starts his morning.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

You rise from sleep to the sound of clattering and blink a few times to adjust to the light. There’s a pillow under your head that you don’t remember putting there, and the quilt from last night covers the expanse of your body. You must have fallen asleep.

The recollection of last night hits you like a tidal wave. You were cuddled up on Bucky’s arm last night, which lulled you to sleep. He must have adjusted you before he went to bed. The thought gives you a fuzzy sensation in your brain.

The smell of coffee fills your nostrils, and you finally get off the couch. You drift into the kitchen. You spot Yelena and Walker talking by the counter. At least someone made up.

Walker detects you instantly. “Hey, sleepy head. How was the couch?” Yelena’s eyes dart up to meet you.

You shrug, stepping into the room. “Surprisingly, not bad.” Yelena turns around and opens the cupboard, reaching for a mug.

John nods and clears his throat. “Sorry for yesterday. Our dumb asses ruined movie night.”

You wave him off. “Don’t worry about it.” You watch Yelena bring the coffee pot to the mouth of the cup, pouring the dark liquid as steam wafts into the air.

”No, movie night is important to you. We should have sucked it up and watched it.” He reiterates.

”It’s no big deal. That just means we're watching two next Friday night.” You jokingly add.

Walker chuckles. “It’s only fair.”

Yelena turns around and hands you the cup. You must have missed her putting cream in because now it’s a swirl of tan and white. You give her a look of gratitude before bringing the warm drink to your lips.

“Can we talk?” Yelena asks with a soft expression. You can almost see her guilt on display.

”Yeah.” You murmur as your hands wrap around the mug, soaking up the heat.

”Alone, dipshit.” She adds, shooting Walker a glare over her shoulder.

He frowns, his eyebrows scrunching together. ”I was literally in here before both of you.”

It’s your turn to glare at the blonde man. He raises his hands in surrender and wanders out of the kitchen, mumbling something about women under his breath.

Yelena flicks her gaze to you and begins. “I apologize for what I said yesterday. I regretted it as soon as the words left my mouth. If I could take them back, I would.”

Yelena glances around the room, trying to find the words to convey her feelings. “I wanted to stay mad, but you were changing my mind about being mad, making me more mad. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you, though.”

You sigh, shaking your head. ”It’s okay. I should have read the room instead of pushing everyone to feel a certain way.”

“No, you were right. It was a stupid reason to be upset with each other. Although there’s always a good reason to be angry at Walker.” She tilts her head in the direction John went. You let out a soft chuckle. “Do you forgive me? You can punch the other side of my jaw if that makes you feel better.”

You snort. “Tempting, but no. I forgive you.”

”That’s a relief. I thought I was going to have to replace you with one of the boys, and that makes me want to vomit.”

Your jaw drops in mock horror as you clutch your chest. “You would replace me? You wound me.”

”I’m kidding. No one could replace you.” Yelena hums as a thought pops into her head. “Barnes was right; you are the glue.”

You quirk a brow. “Huh?”

”We were talking last night. He was the one who told me to apologize.” She pauses, raising a hand. “To be clear, I was going to anyway. Plus, I never let a man tell me what to do.”

That causes you to giggle, and then you gesture for her to continue. “Go on.”

”Anyways, he implied that you’re the glue that holds this team together, and I couldn’t agree more.” She softly nudges you with her elbow. You feel your cheeks warm, and you sip at your coffee to hide how those words affect you.

Yelena rolls her eyes playfully. “Man, you two are ridiculous. Just kiss already.”

”What are you talking about?” You don’t even know why you’re trying to deny it; she caught you red-handed.

”Don’t get me started. How you look at each other, and Barnes is so protective of you. I also found you both cuddled up on the couch this morning when I was on my way to apologize to you.” Yelena gives you a look that says, Don’t you dare try to gaslight me.

Cuddled up on the couch this morning? That means Bucky didn’t leave in the middle of the night like you thought. He stayed. You bite your lip to suppress a smile, but how ecstatic you are is no secret.

”Ugh, you’re so weird. Remind me never to talk about him around you again.” She turns on her heels and heads out of the room, leaving you with a mess of feelings to sort out in your head.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

It’s late afternoon when you eventually get the courage to talk to Bucky. You’ve been avoiding all the usual places he goes throughout the day because you're afraid you’ll tell him how you feel. Gosh, you feel like a foolish teenager.

You want this more than anything. You want him more than anything. But there are a lot of what-ifs to consider. What if he doesn’t feel the same, and then you feel awkward? What if you do test this out and it doesn’t work out? Now you’ve ruined your friendship. And worst, what if he has feelings for you and wants you just as badly? You won’t know how to act with that last one.

You ultimately said to hell with all those questions because you need answers, and the only person who can answer them is Bucky. You won’t beat around the bush any longer; if there are consequences, so be it. You can live with whatever outcome, even if it hurts.

When you arrive at his bedroom, the door is already open a crack. You softly knock on it, causing it to swing open more. His gravelly voice comes through the door. “Come in.”

You push the door to proceed forward into his space before closing the door behind you. Bucky is leaning against the headboard, one leg crossed over the other with his laptop on his thigh. “Hey.” You mutter as you step closer to his bed.

He straightens instantly, placing his laptop next to him. “Hi.” As he moves to sit on the edge of his bed, he sucks air through his teeth and his face contorts into one of discomfort. He tries to hide how sore he is, but fails miserably. “What’s up?” His voice comes out strained.

Concern is written on your face as you examine him. “You’re in pain.” You cross the room to stand before him.

Bucky tries to brush off your worries. ”It’s nothing. I must’ve pulled something while training.”

You give him an unimpressed look and motion for him to turn. “May I?”

“Really, I’m fine.” He shrugs, but even that gesture seems to cause him more pain.

“Can I touch you or not, James?” Your tone relays a sense of authority, but your voice remains soft.

He lets out a deep sigh and reluctantly turns to the side, so you have access to his back. “Yes, ma’am. You can go ahead and touch me.”

You’ve never been one for formalities, but the way he says ma’am has you reeling. You recover, though, positioning yourself behind him, a knee propped on the bed for leverage.

You place your hands on his shoulders, lightly squeezing his muscles and working your way down his arms. He’s stiff beneath your touch, so you gently coax him by whispering in his ear.

“Relax for me.” As if you commanded him, he drops his shoulders and lets his head fall forward. You increase the pressure and start to massage the knots in his neck, eliciting a low groan from deep within his chest. You continue to knead his upper back, neck, and shoulder muscles until you can feel the tension melting.

”Training, huh?” You ask as you carry on with your task.

”That’s what I said.” Bucky mumbles, evidently lost in the relief you’re giving him.

”Yes, but you’re lying.”

You hear him swallow hard. “What?”

”I know you fell asleep with me on the couch last night.”

Bucky picks his head up, though he hasn’t turned to meet your gaze. “Were you awake?”

”No, Yelena told me.” You pause, rubbing at a stubborn knot in his back. “You could have gone to bed, y’know?”

He nods once. “Yeah, I know, but,” the super soldier wavers slightly, “I didn’t want to.”

The confession hits like a punch to the gut. You want to press the matter, but as your hands journey back up to his shoulders, he rests a hand over yours, and you freeze.

He pivots to face you, his flesh hand still over yours. As he turns, your other hand falls to your side, and you pick your knee off the bed. “Thank you, but why did you actually come here? Because I know you didn’t come here to take care of me, sweetheart.”

Suddenly, you’re incredibly nervous. His eyes are locked on you, and his hand's warmth causes your heart to race. “Uh…it’s something Yelena said.”

Bucky grabs your hand off his shoulder, taking it in both of his—flesh and metal. He starts to rub soothing circles into the skin. “You two made up then?”

“Yeah,” the word seems to get caught in your throat from how he’s massaging your hand.

”Good, I’m glad.” He rotates your hand, palm up, and repeats the action to that side. “So, what did she say?”

You swallow hard to regain your composure, but your heart is still rapidly beating. “She said I’m the glue that holds this team together. She mentioned that she may have gotten that from someone else.” You give him a knowing look.

Bucky halts his actions and releases your hand. Then, he moves to the other one and starts massaging it. “I wonder who.” You arch a brow, and he sighs, conceding in his efforts to deny it.

“Fine, I said it and I meant it.” He adds emphasis to the last part. “You do a lot for this team; we don’t deserve you. I don’t deserve you.” You quietly gasp, but he still hears it.

He drops your hand and proceeds. “You’re kind, caring, and you always listen. Even if it’s not worthy of your attention. I mean how many times have you listened to the same damn story from Alexei’s ‘glory days’?”

You giggle, light and breathy. You flush a deep red color, and there’s no use in hiding it. “I don’t mind.”

”See, that’s what I’m talking about.” Bucky braces his hands on his knees and hauls himself up to stand before you. “You care so much about everyone else, but don’t let anyone do the same for you.”

He leans in, and you sharply inhale. Your eyes dart between both his eyes before your attention dips to his parted lips briefly. He notices, because of course he does, and the corner of his lip lifts into a sly smirk. He glances down at your lips in return.

Did you die and go to heaven? Because there is no way this is happening. Are you reading this wrong, or did he honestly look at your lips? You want to close the distance, but it’s not that simple. You have to leave before you do something stupid.

You step around him and begin to book it to his door, but he’s much quicker than you. “Where are you going?” Bucky snatches your arm before you can get too far. He spins you around to scan your face.

Your eyes flick up to meet his, and you’re sure he’s going to drive you wild. ”I think I might do something reckless if I stay.” You murmur.

”Then, let me do it instead, doll.” Bucky’s voice is low and rough, sending shivers down your spine.

He inspects you for any sign of hesitation, but there is none. His flesh hand moves to brush your hair out of your face and tuck it behind your ear. Bucky lets his touch drag down your jaw, tracing the skin there. Then, he takes a firm hold of it and brings you closer, capturing your lips.

The kiss is soft and slow at first, lips moving against each other like you have all the time in the world. Bucky’s other hand finds your waist, and he pulls you closer until there’s not an inch of space between you. You melt into him, and one of your arms wraps around him as your other hand cups the back of his neck, deepening the kiss.

It quickly turns hungry, your lips moving with his in a desperate dance of passion. As it starts to get heated, his tongue runs along your bottom lip, requesting access.

You part your lips immediately, and his tongue slips into your mouth. He lets out a satisfied hum when he finds your tongue. He’s completely immersed in you. His tongue explores your mouth like it’s a personal mission to taste every inch of you. Your knees buckle slightly, and his hand leaves your jaw to grab your hip, granting you stability.

Your tongues slide and swirl with one another as your hand snakes up and under his shirt, feeling his bare skin. Bucky positions his leg between your thighs, and you moan into the kiss at the contact.

He breaks the kiss and gazes down at you. You’re flushed and trembling with desire. You're both trying to slow your breathing, but it’s pointless. He dips his head to attach his lips to your neck, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your collarbone. You grind against his leg, needing some friction. “Bucky,” you breathe.

He growls against your skin, sending vibrations through you. He tightens his grip on your hip and begins to help guide your movement. Then, he moves to your ear, taking your earlobe between his teeth and licking its shell. “Tell me what you need, doll.” His tone is raspy in your ear.

Your breathing turns erratic at all the sensations, and your knees threaten to give out, but you know he has you. “I…I need you.”

“Fuck,” he drawls in your ear before pulling back to get a glimpse of you. “That’s all I want to hear. Are you going to let me take care of you?”

You open your mouth to speak, but the words won’t come. You nod in response, and he doesn’t waste any time.

“Good girl.” Bucky picks you up by your thighs effortlessly as if you weigh nothing. You realize you’ve always wanted to witness that super soldier strength firsthand, and now you have a front row seat to the show.

Bucky carries you the short distance to the bed and lays you down gingerly. He crawls onto the mattress after you and nudges your legs apart with his knee so that he can situate himself between your thighs. He braces his arm next to your head, hovering over you. You bite your lip at the sight of his bicep on full display. He lets out a low chuckle as his other hand slips under your shirt.

He lets his fingers dance across your flesh, reveling in the way you shiver. Bucky takes the hem of your shirt in both hands and pulls it over your head, tossing it somewhere in the room. He hums at the sight of you before making quick work of your bra. He reaches around you and unclasps it as he lowers the straps off your shoulders.

He drinks you in, naked from the waist up. “Damn, you’re gorgeous.” Bucky plunges to kiss along your sternum while his hand wanders up to cup your breast. He trails kisses to your other breast before his tongue darts out to tease your nipple.

His eyes flick up to you as he wraps his lips around your nipple, sucking and swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud. His hand gently squeezes and massages your other breast. You arch your back and you let out a soft whimper. You feel a heat pool in your lower stomach as the tension builds in your aching body.

“Bucky, please.” You beg while you buck your hips up into him to relieve some of that growing pressure.

He releases your nipple with a soft pop. “Shh…patience, doll. Let me take my time with this beautiful body of yours.”

Bucky switches to the other, giving each breast equal attention. You grunt in frustration, and he laughs against your skin. You begin to protest, but he bites your nipple, causing a new wave of pleasure to crash over you. You silence yourself and let him work his magic.

As he languidly kisses and sucks the opposite breast, his fingers toy with your other one. Bucky’s thumb rubs and flicks over your nipple, drawing a moan from your lips.

Once he’s satisfied, his mouth moves further down. He kisses and nips at your skin as he travels to your lower stomach. Bucky licks along the spot above your waistband, and you squirm underneath him.

“Lift your hips for me, doll.” He pats your thigh and glances up at you; his blue eyes are dark. You obey, digging your heels into the mattress to lift the lower half of your body. He hooks his thumbs into your shorts and peels them off, leaving you in just your panties.

He’s breathless as he admires the way you’re sporting those black, lace panties. Bucky licks his bottom lip before taking it between his teeth. You’re thrumming with anticipation from how he’s examining you like you’re his next meal and he’s starving. He traces the outline of your underwear with a single digit. Then, runs his finger over your core, his touch feather-light, but it still causes you to twitch.

“Mmm…so wet for me.” Bucky plants a soft kiss to your underwear clad clit. He takes the lace band and drags it down your thighs. You raise your legs, and he slips them off and stuffs them in the back pocket of his jeans. You playfully roll your eyes, and he smirks at you.

“What, I can’t have a little souvenir of our first time?” He grabs the underside of your knee and hooks it over his shoulder as he kisses your inner thigh.

“I didn’t say you couldn’t, I just kinda like that pair.” You jest.

”I can see why.” Bucky looks up through his lashes and winks at you. You giggle, and you’re sure that this man is going to be the death of you. “But, I gotta say, I prefer you in nothing.” He fans his hot breath across you as his mouth gets closer to where you need him most. “Such a pretty pussy.”

Yep, he’s going to kill you, and if it isn’t from that handsome face, then it will be from that filthy mouth. You smooth his hair back and out of his face, taking a moment to appreciate the sight of him. He looks like a dream. Maybe this is a dream because he’s too damn perfect.

Bucky leans into your touch as you run your fingers through his long hair. His expression softens, and he presses a lingering kiss to your thigh.

“Can I taste you, babydoll?” His voice goes deep and husky. Your breathing stutters at the nickname; he can tell you like it.

“Yes, please.” Your eyes are pleading, like you can’t wait a second longer.

”Anything for you.” He lowers his mouth to lick a strip up your center. You whine and grip his dark strands. Bucky’s tongue dives back in, devouring you. His tongue works expertly on your wet heat, licking up your juices and teasing your entrance.

You writhe and squirm under him as erotic sounds exit your wide-open mouth. “Fuck, that feels so good. Your mouth is perfection.”

Bucky groans against your pussy hearing your sounds and praises. His metal hand rises to rest on your lower stomach as the other one grabs your hip, holding you still. He flicks his tongue over your clit before lightly sucking on it. He swirls his tongue around you in tight circles. You tip your head back, letting out a loud, throaty moan.

He lets go of your hip and traces a finger around your entrance as he continues to suck and lick your bundle of nerves. Bucky dips his finger into you and steadily pumps it in and out.

You whimper at the sudden intrusion, and your free hand searches for something to grab onto. You find Bucky’s metal hand on your stomach and grasp the back of it, trying to ground yourself. He flips his hand over, holding your hand in his as he works at your cunt.

He slides a second finger in, stretching you out and pumping deeper into you. Bucky breaks away from your clit, his teeth faintly grazing it, as he comes up for air. Now that you can see his whole face, you notice the way his mouth and chin are covered in your juices. It only adds to the intense pleasure you feel from his skilled fingers.

”You’re doing so well, sweetheart.” He squeezes your hand and brings it to his lips, kissing your knuckles before resting your clasped hands on your abdomen again.

You can feel the pressure building inside you with every stroke of his fingers, and it’s overwhelming. You don’t think anyone has ever made you feel this incredible, and you never want the pleasure to end.

He curls his digits inside you, caressing your walls. You squeeze around his fingers, and he picks up the pace, wanting to bring you to the edge. Your thighs begin to quiver as moans and whimpers fill the room. “Bucky…I’m so close. Please, don’t stop.”

”Wasn’t plannin’ on it.” He drops his head down, mouth pushing between your slick folds. Bucky doubles down on his efforts. His fingers thrust faster while he sucks on your clit hard, then his tongue starts to move with even more purpose—swirling, flicking, and teasing.

Without warning, your orgasm wracks through your body. Wave after wave of pleasure crashing down upon you. You come undone with a strangled cry as your eyes squeeze shut. Your hand instinctively pulls on Bucky’s hair as you ride out your climax. He helps you prolong your orgasm by keeping up with his ministrations.

He slows his movements to a stop and lets you catch your breath. You shudder with aftershocks of pleasure as you come down from your high.

He unhooks your leg from his shoulder and begins to kiss and nip up the expanse of your body. He inches up your form until he’s level with your face. Your eyes are still closed, and he chuckles low at your blissed out state. He plants kisses on your forehead, cheeks, and nose, making you release a breathy laugh. He finally places a soft, sweet kiss on your lips before leaning back to inspect you.

“You still with me, doll?” Bucky brushes a stray damp hair out of your face. You open your eyes, giving him a soft grin. “Ah, there’s my pretty girl. You doin’ okay?”

Your smile grows wider because he looks like an angel above you and has the nerve to call you pretty. “Better than okay. That was unreal.” You grab the back of his neck as your thumb caresses the skin. “Do you eat pussy for a living?” You jokingly add.

He gives you an amused look. “I can eat your pussy for a living. Keep me down there between your thighs and I’ll be a happy man.” He pinches your thigh to emphasize his words.

You giggle and wish time would stop for a minute because you want to stay in this moment forever. You snap yourself out of your daze and gesture between the two of you. “This isn’t fair.”

”What’s not fair, doll?” He gives you a quizzical expression.

”You’re wearing too many clothes.”

He shakes his head, grinning. “I can fix that.”

Bucky climbs off the bed and reaches behind him, pulling at the collar of his black shirt until it's off. You’re faced with sharp lines and toned muscles like a fucking ancient Greek sculpture. It’s absurd how sexy he is. You don’t know if you’ve met a more attractive person.

You lean on your forearms to better view him as he continues the show. Bucky unbuckles his belt; just the clang of the metal makes a fire light within your very bones. He slips it out of the belt loops of his dark-washed jeans before tugging them and his boxers down his legs.

You cast your eyes down at where the material pools at his feet, then slowly let them glide up his figure. Fuck. You don’t know where to look. His thighs, chest, biceps, abs, dick-

He’s huge, and he looks painfully hard. Forget what you said before about his handsome face and filthy mouth, his dick will be the death of you. You’re sure that’s the best way to go, though, so you can’t find it in your heart to care much.

Bucky crawls back over top of you, settling into his original place. Your hands are instantly on him, tracing his dips and contours. His stomach muscles flex beneath your touch.

“Stunning.” You mutter. You lift your head to kiss along the spot where skin meets metal, and he quivers above you.

“Doll-“ His voice is sweet and warm like honey in your ear. You register that his cock is hard against your thigh as you trail kisses to his neck. You grip him firmly in your hand, carefully stroking his leaky cock.

He gasps softly at the feel of your soft hand on him. Bucky’s forehead falls to your shoulder, and his breathing is ragged in your ear as you continue your movements. Your thumb swipes at the precum that beads at the slit, spreading it to give you more purchase.

”Oh, sweetheart.” He growls, low and rough. “Fuck, I need to be inside you.”

You hum in agreement as you free him from your grasp. “Well then,” you move your mouth to hover beside his ear and whisper. ”Take me, baby.”

Bucky grunts and pecks your shoulder before pulling away to gaze into your eyes. His eyes are dark with desire, matching your own. He takes his dick in his hand and positions himself between your thighs. He runs the head through your slick and teases your entrance with his tip.

“Are you ready for me?”

Your free hand finds a place on his bicep in preparation, knowing you’ll need stability from his sheer size. “Yes, Bucky.”

He slides inside of you, nice and slow, taking his time to stretch you out on his cock. His entire body stiffens as he feels how tight you are. Bucky groans and his jaw clenches as if it’s taking every bit of control not to slam into you. You suck in breath and tilt your head back. He instantly takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger, gently forcing your gaze back on him.

“Eyes on me, doll. I want to watch you as it goes in.”

Fuck. You’re so turned on that you can’t even respond to him; you just obey. Your eyes are locked on his as he pushes inside you at an achingly slow pace like he’s trying to memorize every inch of you.

He bottoms out inside you, and you feel impossibly full. You’re just staring at each other now, your rapid breaths mingling in the space between you. Bucky’s giving you a moment to adjust before he even thinks about moving. He also wants to take a moment to feel you surrounding him; it’s overwhelming.

You have to remind yourself to breathe. The stretch of your pussy around him is intense. His dick is buried so far into your tight warmth it’s like he’s drowning in it, but instead you're the one losing oxygen.

He moves his hand from the spot on your chin to cup your cheek, stroking the flushed skin. He leans down and captures your lips in a hungry kiss, hot and desperate, like he needs to taste you. You reciprocate with equal fervor, your hand snaking up into his hair to deepen the kiss as your tongues merge.

He moves both his hands to grab your thighs and hikes them up to wrap your legs around his waist. Bucky’s metal hand settles on your hip as the other searches for your hand on the back of his head. He wraps his fingers around your wrist and pulls it from its place in his hair. He breaks the kiss and brings your palm to his lips, before pinning it above your head.

He leisurely starts to ease in and out of you while trying to get a read on your expression. He wants to make sure you’re feeling good or if you need more time to adjust. But, instead, you softly moan, giving him the reassurance he needs to speed up.

“Atta girl, taking me so well.” Bucky praises. It only seems to make your core wetter, making it easier for him to thrust into you. You tighten your grip on his bicep as he snaps his hips into you. His grip on your hip is bruising as he sets a rhythmic pace, steady and deep.

His hand on your wrist lets go before his fingers glide across your palm to interlock your hands, holding it against the mattress as if to say, I’m here, I’ve got you. You squeeze his hand in a silent reply to remind him that you’re here and not going anywhere.

Bucky adjusts himself as his thrusts turn erratic and sloppy as his pace quickens, slamming deeper into you. He wants to see you completely fall apart under him. You moan loudly at the new angle he’s providing you. He begins to hit that sweet spot deep inside you over and over. The tension rises sharply and quickly, like you might explode at any minute.

”Yes, Bucky. Just like that. So fucking good.” The words spew from your lips like an erupting volcano, and you can’t help the sounds you’re making, loud moans and strained whimpers.

”You sound so pretty, babydoll. Don’t hold back. Let me hear you.” He reaches between your bodies with his metal hand to rub your aching, sensitive clit with his thumb.

You arch your back into him and your hand finds purchase on the carved lines of his back, nails digging into the flesh, leaving behind little crescent moon shapes. The flood of sensations washing over you causes you to clench hard around him as you cry out in pleasure.

”Bucky, I-I’m…” You cut yourself off with a groan as he hits your cervix again.

”I know, sweetheart. I can feel you squeezin’ me.” He rubs your clit faster, applying more pressure, his thumb moving in tight circles. “Let go, doll. Come for me. I want to feel you come on my cock.”

That’s all the motivation you need as you scream his name while your pussy flutters around him. Your body is trembling as you orgasm for the second time tonight. Your vision blurs, and you’re seeing stars. The feeling is euphoric. It’s as if you’re on cloud nine, floating on ecstasy. It’s a struggle to keep your eyes open, but you need to watch him come undone.

He lets out a strangled moan as he feels you come. It’s the best feeling in the world, and he knows he could easily get addicted to it. He eases off your clit and returns his hold on your hip, firm as if he’s afraid to let go.

Bucky thrusts in once, twice, three times before spilling deep inside you. Hot ropes of cum filling you and coating your walls as he grunts your name, throwing his head back in pure bliss. He clutches your intertwined hands like a lifeline.

You watch in awe as he releases into you. Your mind is still in the clouds as you cup his jaw and force his head down. He opens his eyes, adoration swimming in his soft blues. He presses his forehead to yours as he works you both through your climax, pushing his cum deeper into you.

He ceases his movement, but stays buried to the hilt deep inside you. He wants to keep that connection for a bit longer. You can feel cum leaking out of you as your body goes limp. Bucky rests his weight on top of you, and you welcome it.

He nuzzles his face into your neck as you both come down from your highs, chests rising and falling rapidly. Your hand moves into his hair as you lightly scratch his scalp with your nails. Bucky groans in appreciation, and his lips brush against your neck with lazy kisses.

“Damn,” you breathe into the air. “Is it going to be like that every time?”

He chuckles into the side of your neck, vibrating your body. Bucky inclines his head back, letting go of your hand to lean on his forearm over you. His face has a soft expression, a mix of arrogance and amusement.

“I’m pretty sure it only gets better, doll. I still have a few tricks up my sleeve.” He pinches your side, and you huff air out of your nose in laughter.

“Oh, really? You’re quite cocky, aren’t you?”

“I’m only confident in my ability to please you.” He shoots you a look like he knows how good he made you feel.

Bucky pulls out of you, causing you to softly gasp from how sensitive you are. He rolls over into the spot beside you and takes you with him, cradling you into his warm chest. He places a lingering kiss on your forehead and then tucks your head under his chin. It’s as if you belong there.

You practically melt into him, wrapping your arms around his waist and burrowing the side of your face into his chest. Bucky hums and starts playing with your hair while his metal fingers draw meaningless patterns into your back.

”I’ll clean us up in a bit. Maybe run a bath,” he thinks out loud, making a soft smile grow on your lips. “But right now, I just want to hold my pretty girl.”

You let your eyes flutter closed, reveling in the moment and his soothing actions on your back and hair. “You won’t hear any complaints from me, handsome.”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

You’re in the kitchen, three different pans heating on the stove. This could potentially be a fire hazard, but it isn’t much of a concern for you. You’re cooking pancakes, eggs, and sausage as you hum to one of the songs blasting from your phone.

Your hips sway to the music, gently, because it seems every time you move, pain surges between your thighs. You don’t mind, though. It’s a reminder of Bucky and the long night you spent together. But, fuck, you’re sore.

You didn’t realize how much stamina a super soldier has, but now you are acutely aware. You thought it would be a nice, relaxing bath after your first round, but someone got a little too handsy. And as you were drying, the towel wrapped snugly around you, Bucky tore it off and had his way with you again. Hence, why you’re hurting this morning, this kind of pain is something you can and will get used to, though.

You decided to make breakfast for him as soon as the sun woke you up, and you couldn’t stop admiring his sweet, sleepy expression. Half the reason is to thank him for rocking your world last night, and the other half is for much-needed sustenance.

You use your spatula to push at the edges of your fluffy pancake to flip it eventually. As you're flipping it, warm hands envelope your waist. You jump slightly, the sudden contact startling you. Bucky rests his chin on your shoulder and whispers in your ear.

”Sorry, doll. Didn’t mean to scare you.“ His voice is still thick with sleep; he must have just woken up.

You grin as you continue with your task. “You’re fine, I just didn’t hear you come in.”

”You left me.” Bucky murmurs against your skin as he kisses a trail down your neck to your shoulder.

”I was making you breakfast in bed, but now that you’re not in bed, it’s just breakfast.” You tease him as you check on your eggs.

He hums, clearly amused by your teasing. “Mmm…I missed you.” Bucky squeezes your torso, and you giggle. “I thought it was all a dream when I didn’t see you next to me.”

”No, not a dream. Very real. The throbbing between my legs is proof of that.”

Bucky snorts as his hands glide down your figure. “I would apologize, but I’m not that sorry. You know I can’t get enough of you.”

He dips his fingers under the hem of your oversized shirt and starts to massage your thighs as he mumbles in your ear. “I can’t keep my hands off of you.”

“Bucky,” You softly moan, enjoying the sensations he’s giving you. “You’re distracting me.” Your spatula drops to the counter as you reach up to rest a hand on his cheek, keeping him close to your ear.

He lightly laughs in your ear as he pulls you by your hips, your ass flush against his growing erection. His fingers dig into your flesh, gripping and rubbing at your thighs.

”A good distraction?” Bucky nibbles on your ear.

You bite your lip to suppress another moan. You take a firm hold of his jaw and turn your head, angling your lips inches from his.

”You know it.” You mutter against his mouth before pressing your lips to his.

It’s soft and tender, lips moving unhurriedly like you're learning from every brush of each other's mouth. His teeth graze your bottom lip, and he gently bites it, tugging on it before letting go.

Bucky dives back in, kissing you deeply as his tongue pushes its way past the seam of your lips. As he slides his tongue against yours, his fingertips trace your inner thighs. Your skin dots with goosebumps from his touch. You start grinding your ass on him until-

“Ah! What the fuck?” A voice cuts through the air, and you instantly break away from Bucky’s mouth to see the source of the words.

Yelena is shielding her eyes with a repulsed expression on her face. Bucky moves away from you, adjusting himself in his sweatpants. You straighten out your oversized shirt, bunched around your torso, even though you’re wearing shorts underneath.

“Is your dick out or can I open my eyes now?” Yelena can barely get out the words because she’s gagging.

Bucky groans, rubbing at his forehead, so you answer for him. ”Holy shit, Yelena. No! We’re not animals.” You glance over to Bucky, and he shrugs with a mischievous grin as if to say, Well…

You shake your head at him. “Not helping.” You whisper.

You turn back to Yelena, and her eyes are still squeezed shut. “You can open your eyes now.”

She hesitantly peels her eyes open, peeking behind her hand. Once she knows you’re both decent, she drops her hand to her side.

”Now, I have to wash my eyes with bleach to get that image out of my head.” Yelena grumbles, advancing further into the kitchen to the coffee pot.

”We were just kissing.” You insist, though you’re blushing.

”It looked like a lot more than kissing to me.” Yelena mutters as she begins to pour herself a cup.

Bucky steps around you, a hand on the small of your back as he kisses your cheek. “Sorry, that was my fault.” He murmurs. “Guess I should have stayed in bed. I’ll see you there?” He offers you an apologetic look.

You give him a soft smile. “Yeah, I’ll bring you breakfast in bed like I originally planned.”

He nods, giving you one last kiss on the cheek like he can’t resist you. “Alright, babydoll.” The nickname melts you, and you’re beaming at him before you know it.

Bucky begins to wander out of the kitchen, but pauses to glance over his shoulder. “Smells delicious, by the way. I meant to say that, but got a little…distracted.” You giggle, and he veers right and out of the room.

You return to your cooking and notice the pancake is slightly burnt. You scoop it onto a plate with an easy grin, like it doesn’t matter to you, because Bucky’s lips were on yours as it burned.

“Cute.” Yelena's voice breaks you from your trance, and when you glance at her, she’s slanted against the counter, sipping her coffee as she stares at you.

“Sickeningly cute, but I suppose cute nonetheless.” She mutters into the mouth of her mug.

You snort as you begin to assemble the breakfast on your dishes. As you're plating the food, you catch Yelena from the corner of your eye. She’s still studying you, and it’s starting to make you uncomfortable. You turn your body towards her.

”What is it?” You cross your arms over your chest, waiting for her to spit it out.

”Although I never want to see that again,” she gestures to the air around you, referring to the make-out session she just witnessed. “I’m happy for you two.”

Her words cause you to stagger briefly. That’s not what you thought she would say, but you are pleasantly surprised. “Thanks, Yelena.”

You consider Yelena’s statement for a second. You have this weightless feeling that you’ve never had in the morning. You seem to walk with a bounce to your step. There’s a constant fluttering in your stomach. You’re happy. And it’s all because of Bucky. Even though this is new and fresh, you somehow know that feeling will never disappear.

[starmaidengarden]

Hello !!

May i request a fic with Jade, Leona, and Floyd where the reader is scared of them and often hides behind someone else when meeting them? Totally not bc i was scared of them back then lmao

Thank you, have a nice day!

—Jade : Leona : Floyd x gn!reader. no cw/tw. dividers: uzmacchiato.

note: sorry this took so long!! but I hope you like it!!

Jade Leech ༉⋆｡˚

At first, Jade finds your fear of him amusing in that quiet, unnerving way he does everything. You hide behind Ace or Deuce every time he appears, and he never misses the chance to smile just a little too pleasantly and say, “Oh? Hiding again? How cruel—I was simply going to say hello.”

He doesn’t get offended. In fact, he’s curious—what was it that made you fear him so much? His gaze? The rumors? His eel nature? He never directly asks, but you get the sense that he already knows.

He starts appearing more often in places you frequent, acting completely harmless, but always with an aura of something off—like he’s trying to prove you right and wrong at the same time.

Over time, he begins to soften his demeanor—his smile becomes a little warmer, his words a bit less cryptic. He’ll still tease, but in smaller, lighter doses. Eventually, if you begin to peek out from behind your “shield” when he’s around, he’ll notice immediately. One day, when you don’t hide fast enough, he’ll gently lean down and whisper with a soft smirk, “I must be doing something right.”

If you start talking to him on your own, expect him to treat it like a delicate animal approaching for the first time. “You’re growing used to my presence. I’m honored.”

Leona Kingscholar ༉⋆｡˚

Leona’s used to people fearing him, but it irritates him when it’s you. He doesn’t understand why you flinch when he walks in or physically hides behind someone else.

At first, he glares and says things like, “Tch. What, I look like I’m gonna bite?” He’s gruff and dismissive, not realizing that his aggression is part of why you’re scared.

Ruggie ends up being your main shield, standing between you and Leona. He always mutters about it—“Babysitting now, Ruggie?”

Eventually, Leona grows restless. Your fear gnaws at his pride. He doesn’t want to be liked, necessarily, but being feared by someone like you—a harmless little mouse who flinches at his voice—annoys him more than he wants to admit.

So he changes tactics. Instead of barking or intimidating, he tries ignoring you completely, hoping you’ll calm down if he acts indifferent. It works better than he expects. You stop hiding as fast. You relax a little when he’s around.

Eventually, one day he catches you not hiding behind anyone. He makes eye contact, raises an eyebrow, and says dryly, “Look at that. Thought you’d pass out if I looked at you too long. You’re getting bolder.”

Floyd Leech ༉⋆｡˚

You hiding from Floyd is like putting gasoline on fire. He finds your reactions hilarious and entertaining from day one.

“Shrimpyyyyy~ why are you hiding again? That’s so boring! C’mon, come out! I wanna squeeze you!” Cue you burying yourself behind anyone nearby.

Floyd’s unpredictable behavior makes it worse. Sometimes he’s giggling. Sometimes he’s staring blankly with wide eyes. Sometimes he drops his voice and gets way too close to your ear just to make you yelp and run.

But beneath the chaos, Floyd’s not trying to be cruel. He’s trying to get a reaction—he thinks your fear is exciting, and in a weird way, it makes you memorable to him.

The more you hide, the more he’s like a cat stalking a laser pointer. But over time, if he sees you genuinely trembling or distressed, the fun drops from his face. “...Not fun when you’re actually scared.”

He starts adjusting. He’ll approach more casually, sometimes even dragging Jade along so you feel “safer” by comparison. He'll offer little things in an oddly sweet way—like a trinket he found or food you like. “For Shrimpy. Don’t scream.”

If you ever thank him, grins wide, and says, “Awww, you’re warming up to me! This is so much better~”

Floyd doesn’t really know how to tone himself down properly, but when you begin to open up just a little, he becomes more affectionate and playful rather than scary. He’ll guard you from others who freak you out—even if it’s something minor. “Only I get to scare Shrimpy.”

[shadowheartshapedbox]

✶⋆.˚ ┆ 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐧𝐞 {𝟏𝟖+}

pairing: bob reynolds x thunderbolts*reader x john walker summary: john walks in on you and bob sharing an intimate moment. to john's surprise, you invite him to join. warnings: 18+, minors dni, smut (threesome, john holds you while bob eats you out, bob and john share a kiss, you ride john and give bob head at the same time, not so much smut but naked cuddles at the end <3), swearing, potentially ooc characters (first time writing for bob so if i didn't give him justice please don't burn me at the stake) word count: 6k a/n: listen, i wasn't expecting to like the bob x john pairing as much as i did, but then i read some fics and thought ... yeah i gotta write something. i feel like i got a little lazy writing toward the end, so i might go back and rework some stuff. but for now, enjoy!

It had been the first Friday night in months that the Thunderbolts didn't have to go away for a mission. The team was elated to have a weekend to relax. Not only had they been training to become better heroes, but also training to keep a good public reputation.

After all, they had big shoes to fill now that they were the New Avengers. Being a Thunderbolt was one thing, being protectors of the innocent was another.

So, the break was well-deserved. It put everyone in a good mood. Even Bucky, who never seemed to be able to relax or have fun. Tonight, he joined Alexei in the common room at the Watchtower. Alexei had been watching an action movie and doing a terrible job at explaining it to Bucky, instead of just letting him watch.

Yelena had asked Ava for her help in her room, something about giving the guinea pig a bath. Despite Ava dragging her feet as she followed Yelena down the hall, John knew Ava wasn't really that annoyed by it. He'd noticed the two hanging out more, which also helped boost team morale. The better everyone got along, the better they worked together as a team.

With everyone occupied with their choice of entertainment for the evening, John decided to make his way to your room. He hoped after the long week you'd be up for some company.

Within the last year, you and John had grown close. Valentina often put you and John together on missions, which may have led to something more between the two of you. You guys weren't dating, but you drifted dangerously along the line of friendship and something more.

It put John in an uncomfortable position once Bob started coming around more. He wasn't upset; in fact, he was glad Bobby was hanging out with them now, but John couldn't deny that missed the time spent with just the two of you.

He missed you coming into his room at night, after everyone had gone to bed. You liked sleeping with John at night, letting him hold you while you drifted off. But lately you weren't stopping by his room, and when he saw Bob coming out of your room one morning, he knew something was up.

John didn't think to knock when he got to your room. He was so lost in his thoughts that he just walked right in. He barely made it through the doorway before he came to a complete stop.

The scene unfolding in front of John made the man turn red, his throat tightening shut. His blue eyes tried to find any other spot to look in your room, but they betrayed him and kept going back to what was happening on your bed.

Bob was sitting in your bed, back flat against the headboard. The same one John had nearly broken several times in the past. His eyes were closed, mouth hung open with his head fallen back. There was a shine of sweat across Bob's forehead, his curls sticking to his face. His fists were twisted in your sheets, the same ones you had stained more than once.

John's eyes dropped lower on the bed, where you were laying on your stomach in between Bob's legs. He could see your head bobbing up and down along his length. You had been so lost in the taste of Bob that you didn't hear the door open, not until you heard the door swoosh close. Bob let out a startled moan, weakly trying to push you off him now in embarrassment.

John wasn't sure what to say, how to react. He stood like an idiot with his mouth hung open from shock. A crimson color was creeping up his neck and to his ears. But then to make it worse, he felt his dick twitch in his pants. He awkwardly shifted, trying to not be obvious when he put his hands in front of his crotch. How could he be getting this turned on by what he saw?

Bob, on the other hand, was mortified. Sure, John and Bob were much better friends than they were when they first met, but Bob would be lying if he said he wasn't still a little intimidated by John. And now that he was fooling around with you, Bob was worried John wouldn't take it well.

He wasn't an idiot. Bob saw the way John looked at you when he thought nobody was looking. He was smitten over you. But John also didn't have any sort of claim on you. So, it's not like you and Bob were doing anything wrong.

John watched you finally pull yourself off Bob with a lewd 'pop!' noise. You wiped your mouth and grinned at John, before turning to look back at Bob. You leaned closer to him and whispered in his ear, "I told you he'd find us."

Bob glanced up and over at John. He watched the blonde's tongue peek out, licking his bottom lip. It made Bob's dick grow under his hands, causing him to groan and shift a little in your bed.

"I told you to lock the door," Bob said, looking over at you. He shook his head when you let out a giggle, throwing your arms around his neck to pull him in for a kiss on the cheek.

"Bobby, I didn't think you were being serious," you tried to be serious, but couldn't help the stifled laugh that slipped through your lips when Bob gave you a pointed look. "Besidesss, I thought we agreed that it would be fun if he joined."

John swore he died just then. Did he hear you right? You two had discussed this before? Him...joining you? He watched you two sit in your bed together, naked. Your bodies shining from sweat and slick. His eyes found his way to Bob's arms. The muscles of his biceps flexed, the veins popped. John's eyes continued further down, counting each ab on Bob's stomach before he-

The moan from across the room brought you to a hush. You and Bob's head turned to look over at John, who was not practically panting from his spot still by your door. Bob could see John's dick was ready to break through his pants. Was he...turned on by this?

John cleared his throat and opened his mouth to speak, but no words fell out. His feet felt locked in place, unable to move.

"I should just-," Go. He needed to turn around and leave. His mind was screaming at him to walk away, so why couldn't he?

You leaned over and gave Bob one more wet kiss to his cheek before pushing yourself off the bed. Bob's eyes fell down your naked form, watching you make your way to John. His dominant hand wrapped around his cock, pumping slowly.

When you made your way to John, you circled him once like he was prey. It made him nervous, tense. Bob couldn't see you when you disappeared behind John, not only your arms poked out and wrapped around his middle. John only seemed to relax when he realized you were just hugging him.

"I'm not gonna force you to do anything you don't want," John leaned against your mouth when you whispered in his ear, feeling your lips press kisses across his face and along his jawline, down his neck. "But I'd love to have a night with both of my boys."

Bob whimpered at your words from across the room, feeling more pre-cum leak through the slit at the tip of his dick. Your boys, he liked the sound of that. And by the size of the tent in John's pants, he did too.

John sucked in a breath when your hands wandered lower, palming him through his sweatpants. He leaned back into your hold, knees threatening to give out from under him. He needed a moment to think.

A part of him knew the entire situation was fucked, but he also couldn't deny how much it turned him on. The idea of stuffing you full of him while Bob watched made him nearly faint. John nearly came in his pants then when he thought about watching Bob eat you out after.

When John's eyes found yours again, they were nearly black from lust. He turned in your hold, grabbing you by the waist and pulling him to him. John's hand extended out behind you to lock the door. He let out a hiss when he felt you start grinding on his dick.

He gave your ass a smack, a warning. John's hands kneaded the flesh before giving it another hard smack. "So, when did this little thing start, huh?" John pulled you with him as he made his way to the bed.

Bob watched John toss you like you were nothing on the bed. His eyes dropped to where you fell, in between his legs and dangerously close to his dick. His balls were practically sitting on top of your head.

You moved your head to rest on Bob's thigh, turning your face to look at his dick. You hummed and reached out, replacing Bob's hand with your own. His hands found the bedsheets again, twisting them in his fists.

"Go on, Bobby. Answer him," you contorted your body to be able to lean over and kiss the swollen red tip of his dick. Bob hissed at the contact.

"F-fuck, I don't know. A few weeks ago, I think," Bob whimpered and twisted his fists tighter in the sheets when he felt you kiss up and down his shaft. "When y-you were all gone on a mission."

John tried to think back a few weeks ago. All the days were beginning to blur together, but John eventually remembered what Bob was talking about. You had gotten injured, and Val made you sit out.

He let out a laugh more to himself than anyone as he pushed his pants down. You and Bob watched in awe as John stripped himself free from his clothes. He wasn't as chiseled as Bob was, but he was just as solid. Faint scars from his time in battle litter his body, freckles dancing around the scars like constellations.

He was beautiful, you and Bob both thought. In front of the team, John's ego was inflated. If you said that to him in front of everyone, but behind closed doors...John was sweeter.

Bob couldn't help but look down at John's dick, standing tall, proud. Bob's dick twitched and knocked against your nose as you were pulling away.

You sat up and on your knees. Bob followed your lead, sitting up and extending his arms out behind him to lean on. His legs were stretched out on the bed, dick twitching in his lap. He watched John crawl on the bed, kneeling in front of you and sitting at Bob's knees.

"It's only our third time," you explained, moaning when John's large hands groped your tits suddenly. You felt yourself become wet from him manhandling you. "W-we haven't even really done anything!"

Bob watched John play with your tits in front of him. He swallowed the lump forming in his throat when John's mouth licked and sucked at your neck, fingers twisting and pulling at your nipples. John knew what you liked, how you liked being touched. Maybe he'd be a good friend tonight to Bobby and give him a few pointers.

John's gaze glanced over at Bob, who had been staring at your breasts, his hand slowly pumping the top of his dick. John grinned against your neck before biting down, pulling away when you yelped. You were already in a daze, pouting when John's warm mouth left your skin. All he did was give you some hickeys on your neck and play with your tits, and this was the state you were left in.

"Tell me what you've done," His hands held onto your hips as he maneuvered you both on the bed, turning you so your back was against his chest, and you were facing Bob. John made sure to keep your legs open, so Bob had a direct view of your wet pussy.

You hummed at the warm feeling of John's front against your cold back. His hands went back to playing with your breasts, his legs pinning yours open. Bob watched through heavy eyes as John kissed your neck, biting at the skin and licking up until he pressed his lips to your ear. John locked his eyes on Bob while asking you, "Has he ate your pussy yet?"

You moaned at the question and squirmed in John's grip, rolling your hips down on the sheets. You felt John's hard dick pressing against your back, his teeth pulling at your earlobe. He stuck his tongue in your ear a little, causing you to groan and try and pull away. But John's grip only tightened so you would stay put.

"Tell me," he whispered harshly, bringing one of his hands down from your breast to smack your clit. You whimpered and bucked your hips up, chasing after his touch. All Bob could do was continue to watch in awe. You were putty in John's hands. "Tell me what you've done. I won't ask again."

Your chest heaved as you tried catching your breath. What little sense of control you thought you had, was now out the window. John already took you by surprise when he accepted to join you and Bob, now it seemed like he was taking charge of the situation entirely.

You weren't surprised though. Leave it to John to still need to be in control somehow. If you weren't painfully aroused by the moment, you'd probably give him shit for it. But you wanted him on you, in you.

"We've only kissed," You turned and buried your face in John's neck. "I-I've only sucked his dick. We were gonna do more tonight, though."

You whimpered when John slowly began rubbing circles on your clit. He nodded at your answer, satisfied with your response. His fingers slipped around the bundle of nerves the wetter you grew. But there was still something about your response that didn't sit right with John.

"But has Bobby tasted you yet? I saw his dick down your throat, but has he given you the same attention?"

Bob's face grew hotter. He watched you shake your head no before glancing back at John, who had a little smirk toying at the corner of his mouth. He stopped playing with your clit and pushed your legs open more with his legs, motioning for Bob to move in between.

He tried to not be so nervous, especially now that John was there. It's not like he didn't know what he was doing, he's just never ate your pussy before. Bob wanted to make sure he did a good job, and John was going to make sure that it happened.

"Be good and keep your legs open, yeah? I want Bobby to make sure he gets all in there." You nodded and watched Bob as he shifted to lay on his stomach. He wrapped his arms around yours and John's legs, adjusting them to rest over his shoulders and down his back. You found yourself panting, sandwiched between the both of them.

"Now, Bobby. Don't be afraid to get messy. She likes it when you clean her up after," You could feel Bob’s hot breath fanning over your pussy, drool threatening to spill out and on you.

But Bob felt frozen, unable to move. John scoffed and grabbed him by his hair, shoving his face deep into your folds. “Come on now, don’t keep our girl waiting.”

When you felt Bob's tongue go flat against your folds, you let out a loud moan. Your hands gripped John's biceps, legs squirming in both their grasps. Bob's hands tightened on your thighs as John's ankles locked onto yours.

"Good job, Bobby," John's hands eased up on Bob's head, pushing his hair back and out of his face. You felt John's dick slowly grind against your back. "How does she taste?"

Bob whimpered when John's hand left his hair. Through lidded eyes, Bob watched John's calloused fingers run along your body, working you up. His hands grabbed at the soft parts of your body, working their way back up your breasts. Bob moaned as he continued to eat you out when he watched John pinch and twist your hardened nipples.

"Come on, Bob. Tell me," John practically whined. He wasn't used to sharing, having to wait to taste you. "I wanna know what I'm missing out on."

Bob's hips slowly grinded into your mattress. Between the taste of you and John's voice coaxing him through the act, Bob was ready to cum. His tongue continued to swipe up and down through your folds, slurping up any liquid that dripped out of you.

"S-good," Bob muffled, not able to rip his mouth away from you. "Tastes like...mmm, candy."

You let out a whine at Bob's words, withering in John's grasp. His hands came down from your breasts to wrap around your middle, holding you still. Although you were starting to become overstimulated, you craved more. You needed more.

"Candy, huh?" John laughed and leaned down to kiss your cheek. "You hear that? Bobby said you taste like candy. I'm really jealous now. Not used to having to wait to have a taste."

You tore your gaze away from Bob and looked up at John, who was smiling down at you. Any sense of nervousness or uncomfortableness seemed to have vanished from the blonde. You were both lost in each other's eyes, that neither of you noticed Bob's eyes glaze over golden.

There was an urge that ripped through Bob suddenly. It was like an itch that needed to be scratched. His body was tingling, practically buzzing when he pulled himself off of you. You and John both turned your attention back to Bob.

He was sitting on his knees now, still in between your legs. Bob scooted himself closer to you, thighs resting under yours. His hands grabbed onto John's, since his legs were still pinning you down. The position was borderline uncomfortable, but the closeness had you quickly forgetting how uncomfortable you were.

From your spot in between John and Bob, you became uneasy. You knew what came with the golden eyes, but Bob wasn't backing down yet, so maybe he wasn't done? You began to wonder what you got yourself into.

"You okay, Bo-"

Bob cut you off by grabbing John's shoulder, pulling him closer. You fell into Bob's chest, pinned to his hard front when John was pulled closer by Bob. John tried to not squirm in Bob's hold, but he wasn't sure where this was heading.

You craned your neck back awkwardly to look up. Your mouth fell open when you watched Bob suddenly press his lips to John. Bob was more confident with that kiss than he'd been with anything else that night. John was taken back, but he didn't pull away. He was surprised with himself when Bob pulled away from the kiss, and John chased after his lips.

John watched with his mouth hung open as Bob pushed you and him both to lean back in your original spot. You were relieved to not be contorted like a pretzel any longer. The room fell back into a quiet hush, except for the lewd sounds of Bob eating you out.

Nothing was said about what just happened. John's lips were glossed over with a mixture of your slick and Bob's spit. He was watching Bob in a dream-like state, only pulled out of it when you pulled John in for a kiss.

You moaned at the taste on his lips, running your tongue over his top and bottom lip in circles, sucking his bottom lip and pulling away with your teeth dragging his lip out. You let it go and watched his lip stick out, a little swollen.

"Taste good," You mumbled before settling back in John's arms. One hand fell down to Bob's hair, fingers running through and pulling gently at his curls. "You're doing good, Bob. Making me feel so, oh!"

You jolted when you felt two fingers push into your dripping core. John's attention was drawn back to the act happening between your legs. He let out a moan of his own when he watched Bob's fingers pumping lewdly in you, mouth sucking hard at your clit.

"Good job, Bobby," He put his hands on your knees, pushing and pinning you deeper into the mattress. Bob's hand was reached out, holding on John's hip. It made John jump a little. "Keep going. She's getting messy, that means she's close."

You knew what was coming. You were going to squirt all over Bob's fingers, arm and mouth. The orgasm was going to hit you hard, nearly knock you out entirely. You closed your eyes to try and focus on not cumming right away.

"You gonna make a big mess on Bob, yeah?" John hissed when he felt Bob's blunt nails dig into his thigh. You nodded and withered around in John's arms. Your back was now dripping with John's pre-cum.

"I think Bobby's deserved it, don't you think?," John kissed the top of your head. "Finally got to taste you, baby. Why were you depriving him so long?"

You opened your eyes and looked at Bob, golden eyes meeting yours. He didn't look away from you, but his eyes were growing heavy, drunk off your pussy. You closed your eyes again and turned your head away.

"I-I don't know," you answered, whining when John grabbed you by your hair to force you to look back down at Bob. "John!"

"Don't get bratty with me. You should at least watch him when he's eating you out. He's doing a fucking good job at it, aren't you, Bobby?" Bob's eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. He wished John wouldn't talk so much right now.

You were right on the edge of your orgasm. Bob could feel your warm pussy clenching down on his fingers, making it almost impossible for him to curl his fingers up and punish your g-spot. He didn't want to hurt you, especially since this was only the first time, but you felt so good. He almost couldn't control himself.

Bob's fingers kept pace, but his mouth slowed. The two different sensations on two sensitive spots on your body had you teetering on insanity. You felt his tongue swipe up through your folds slowly, his soft lips kissing around your pussy and up your sticky thighs.

"She's close," Bob mumbled. He was hesitant for a second, as if deciding on if he should say what he wanted to. But at this point, he knew there wasn't much he could do to ruin things. "Feels like I'm gonna lose a couple fingers from her pussy."

John laughed at Bob's joke, earning a faint laugh from Bob. You watched Bob's shoulders relax. As happy as you were that he was getting comfortable, that him and John were getting along, why did they have to be stupid boys right as you were about to break?

Bob gave you one more kiss before wrapping his mouth around your clit again. He sucked on it like his life depended on it. You gasped and fisted your hands in Bob's hair, tugging on the curls.

It didn't take long before you let out a high pitch moan, shaking as you squirted all over him. Bob was quick to slurp you up, not wanting to waste any of the precious juices you graced him with.

John felt your legs shaking under his. He smiled and kissed your temple, whispering that you did a good job. You closed your eyes and panted, trying to catch your breath as you came down from your post-orgasm high. Your hips would occasionally buck up as Bob cleaned you up. But he eventually pulled away and sat up on his knees.

You didn't have the energy yet to open your eyes. John, on the other hand, couldn't help but watch Bob. He was kneeling in front of the both of you, grinning to himself in his fucked-out state. Your slick was glistening across Bob's lips, his chin. The hair that wasn't sticking to his face was sticking up a little. His eyes, still golden, but more subdued.

"You did good, Bobby. Glad you finally got a taste?" John asked, watching as Bob nodded. John nodded back before looking down at you. "Hey, we aren't done yet."

Bob fell back to his original spot in your bed, with his now sweaty back sticking to your headboard. His dick was painfully hard, leaking and red. He couldn't help himself at this point. While his right hand stroked his shaft, his left hands cupped his balls.

You opened your eyes with a groan when John began moving you. He adjusted himself so he was sitting up better, his legs now stretched over Bob's. You were in between them again, just not as close this time. Bob would have to lean forward to give you a kiss.

John's hands held you tight by the waist until he was comfortable. He then guided you down until you were seated on his dick. You moaned at the feeling of his dick in between your sticky folds. His dick was going to stretch you out deliciously. You clenched at the thought.

"I'm glad you got off, sweetheart. But Bobby and I haven't," John's hands moved up your stomach until they reached your breasts, giving them a squeeze. You whimpered and watched Bob continue to jack himself off, watching you intensely. You let out a small gasp when John's mouth found your ear. "So, you're gonna be our good girl, m'kay? You're gonna suck on Bobby's dick while you ride mine."

John's dick pulsated in anticipation. He wanted to give Bobby his time to shine when it came to eating you out, prepping you. But John could only be patient for so long. If he didn't sink his dick into you in the next ten seconds, he might've had to bend Bob over.

He grunted loud in your ear at the thought, bucking his hips up into you. You met John's movements in the middle, moaning at the contact. Your body was sticking to John's from both of your body heat, the sweat and slick from the evening. It was like you were glued to him.

Bob watched the two of you in front of him. His eyes wandered over your face, pulled in a tight expression as John edged you; your pussy, dripping now from slick as John's dick slid in and out between your folds. Bob licked his lips, wondering what the tip of John's dick tasted like. He tore his golden eyes away when John began pushing you forward.

Your hands came up to rest on Bob's thighs, using him as leverage to hold yourself up as John guided himself into you. By the third stroke, he was already setting a mean pace. The sound of slapping and squelching made Bob's dick harder, if that was even possible at this point.

John let out a huff like a bull, similar to when he was in combat. His hands were gripping your waist painfully hard, hips snapping up into you. You could already feel the bruises that were going to be left behind. Your head was hovering over Bob's dick, mouth open and panting above the tip.

Bob's hands moved away from his dick and up to your hair, moving it out of your face and holding it back in his hands. You moaned when you felt him tug at it. Not hard enough for it to hurt, but hard enough to leave a comfortable sting behind.

You kept your eyes locked on Bob's happy trail. You felt your pussy clench around John's dick at the thought of your nose pressing into the soft patch of hair above Bob's dick. Before John could make a quip, you practically engulfed Bob down your throat, earning a rather loud moan from him.

"S-shit, hey! Slow down, please," Bob panted and found his hands dropping down from your head and onto John's legs. He gripped his calves, blunt nails sinking into the muscle.

You gagged loudly on Bob's dick, pulling up and off him, spitting out the glob of saliva you had building in your mouth. Your hand was instantly sticky, stroking the base of Bob's dick while your mouth suckled on the tip.

John remained behind you, bucking his hips wildly into you. Your pussy felt so good around him, so wet and warm. Whenever the tip hit your g-spot, deep up in you, you clenched tight down on John and moaned around Bob's dick. Despite your clenching, it was still easy for him to pump in and out of you. He'd have to thank Bob later somehow, for getting you ready so well for him.

Your last moan around Bob's dick nearly had him cumming then and there. He was trying to last as long as John could, but he was already so sensitive from you blowing him earlier, before John even joined you. Bob wasn't ready to have the night end so soon.

But just like your current evening, things don't always go as planned. Before Bob could even warn you, his balls suddenly tightened, a sharp gasp escaping him that sent you in a frenzy.

Whatever you couldn't fit in your mouth you stroked with your hand. You tried to make it sloppy, keep him lubed up with your spit and his pre-cum. You liked the taste of Bob. He was sweeter than you imagined. He'd been working hard to be healthier, and it paid off. You were swallowing anything and everything he gave you.

"Taste so good, Bob," your tongue swirled along his slit, pulling off to pump his dick from balls to tip. "Can't wait to have you cum down my throa-"

You were cut off by Bob suddenly squirting his cum all over your face. You flinched when the warm liquid hit you square in the face, dripping down your nose. Bob was already apologizing profusely, hips still bucking wildly through his orgasm.

Meanwhile, John was behind you watching the scene unfold. He watched Bob's angry-looking dick finally shoot it's seed out, coaxing your face in its white and sticky substance. It made John gasp, losing his rhythm and staggering into you. He took a quick moment to refocus before picking up the pace again.

John gave your ass a few good smacks as he pounded into you. You were moaning around Bob's dick as you cleaned him up with your tongue. Bob, on the other hand, was practically knocked out entirely. His eyes were closed, thighs shaking from overstimulation. But he didn't push you away, he kept his hands on John's calves.

"You did so good for us tonight. So fucking good," John leaned forward and pressed his lips to your back, peppering your skin with kisses. He was rolling his hips deep into you, edging himself. Just like Bob, he wasn't ready to end the night just yet.

Once you were satisfied with your job at cleaning Bob up, you pulled off him and let your cheek rest against his inner thigh. You panted, holding onto Bob as John fucked you. Bob's arms loosely wrapped around your shoulders, almost like he was hugging you.

Your body rocked against his with each powerful thrust John gave you. You could feel your next orgasm approaching, building faster with each brutal hit to your g-spot. All you could blab out was John's name, weakly repeating it.

It didn't take long for John to finally cum deep in you. His hips suddenly jerked up and he locked himself in you. His body shook as he filled you with his seed. You weren't much further behind, soon creaming around his length.

You rocked your hips through your orgasm, milking John for all he had and could give you then, before your hips stilled. You felt John soften inside you, but he had no intention of pulling out just yet.

He fell back on your bed, staring up at your ceiling. John's head was nearly about to fall off the foot of the bed, but Bob's tight hold on his legs kept him safe and secure. You kept your own hold on Bob, nearly falling asleep.

After a while, John shifted in bed. He pulled his shaky legs out from under you and Bob, grabbing you by the waist again. You let out a whine, not ready for another round. John let out scoff and rolled his eyes. "Relax, I'm just getting us comfortable."

You hummed when John moved you up higher in bed, pushing Bob a little at his shoulders for him to scoot in the bed to make room. Bob let out a quiet moan when his head sank into one of your pillows, his eyes closing. You leaned forward and kissed his cheek, wrapping your arms around him and holding him. Your head rested on his chest, right above his heart.

John eventually settled on the other side of you. He laid on his stomach, like you. His right leg was tangled in between yours, his right arm thrown over you and Bob. John's left leg dangled off your bed while his left arm laid under the pillow he was using. Bob's free arm that wasn't trapped under you reached across you, his hand laying on John's back. His fingers traced John's soft skin, swirling circles and random patterns. Your bedroom eventually fell into a comfortable quietness.

There wasn't anything that necessarily needed to be said, but the future now remained uncertain. What came next? When you all recovered, would you pretend like nothing ever happened? Deep down, you didn't want that. You enjoyed spending time with John and Bob, you enjoyed your time with the three of you together even more now.

You were thankful to not be the one to talk next. As much as you were enjoying the silence, it began to be almost too quiet.

"Think we can make this happen again?" John asked, leaning up now and looking over at the two of you. Bob was surprised John wanted to make it happen again, but he can't say he disagreed.

You opened your eyes and looked at Bob, before turning enough to look at John. He had a smirk on his face, one that was far too smug for your liking. You let out a scoff and pushed his head a little, playfully. "Wipe that smirk off your face, Walker. Who said this was gonna happen again?"

You let your head fall back down on Bob's chest, feeling John lay on you and pepper kisses on your face as an apology. Bob smiled down at the two of you continuing to listen to your obvious sarcasm of not enjoying yourself to John who was asking you a dozen questions all at once. Bob's right hand ran through John's golden hair as he sat quietly in his own thoughts, his left hand coming down to your face, gently stroking it.

"I wouldn't mind doing this again," Bob admitted, cutting through you and John's teasing. He met eyes with John, who was now fully grinning ear to ear. It was like John knew if Bob agreed, then you would too.

"See? Bobby's down. So what do you say?" John flinched when you brought your hand up to flick his nose. You muttered how he was an idiot before rolling onto your back.

Bob wrapped an arm around you while John laid in between your legs, chin resting on your stomach. You let out a hum, stroking John's face.

"Fine," you agree, pinching John's cheeks between your fingers. "But I want to watch you choke on Bob's dick next time."

[hanakogames]

*rolls up sleeves* oh, it's on

I am still ticked off at my fourth grade teacher. I am not 100% sure she's still alive (when I first started composing this I had no idea what her first name was or how to spell her surname so i couldn't check; the name DID float out of the abyss of my memories and I think she's still around but I'm not checking in detail) but I am still mad.

First off, she was one of those quite-short women whom you strongly suspect is teaching lower grades just to be sure that all her students are shorter than she is so that she can dominate them.

Second, she took a dislike to me and I never understood why. I have some vague guesses, between what little I remember and what I know about myself. I suspect that I asked too many questions and/or protested when rules did not make sense. (I swear I'm not autistic... probably) I suspect that I daydreamed in class and doodled compulsively on my papers and brought weird books to school (I swear I am ADHD even though I don't have a diagnosis). I suspect I was an irritating little know-it-all who wasn't ashamed to correct the teacher if I felt I knew better.

And if she'd had a go at me for any of these things I would at least understand the problem. Unfortunately for her I also aced every test and was possibly already picking up awards on a higher level, making it awkward to scold me for my approach to academics.

The two specific things I remember, one worse than the other - the less-worse one was that she hauled my parents in near the end of the year to give them an earful about "my attitude" and how I "thought it was summer already". This is a VERY frustrating thing to hear as a small schoolchild - lady, if I thought it was summer I WOULDN'T BE HERE. But also, as a kid who has always struggled with manners and etiquette and fitting in, being vaguely told that my "attitude" is bad is confusing and frustrating. What does that MEAN. What am I doing wrong. Please tell me how this works! But no.

The other - now, my school at that time had two kinds of detention. One was the fairly standard academic detention, for failing assignments or being behind in your work or whatever. I would, over the next few years, see a LOT Of these because I kept refusing to do my homework (it was boring and I knew everything anyway). The other was the "conduct" detention and was, as best as I could gather, meant to be for someone who seriously acted out during class. I dunno, maybe if you started a fight or something? These were SUPER rare, because I went to a fancy all-girls school and, while we were not angels, the level of behavioral disruption is extremely different to what I see in depictions of public school. I never saw anyone smoke in the bathroom or get punished for anything like that. For that matter, all the levels of trouble I ever DID get into (minor catfights with bullies, running out of class in tears because I was having an emotional meltdown) never ever resulted in a detention. I have no idea what was actually meant to trigger a conduct detention.

So yeah, this bitch gave me a conduct detention and wouldn't tell me why and of course any attempt to ask just gets more "don't talk back to me" snapping. Not only that, but she drags tiny me (tearful) into the detention room by the arm and tells the proctor that I am a horrible child and that I should be made to scrub walls all afternoon.

The proctor is nonplussed by this and as soon as the teacher leaves is basically like "okay she's nuts and I don't even have the equipment for that, nobody does that, but I have to make you do SOMETHING" and so I spent that detention erasing pencil marks out of textbooks. Which was fine, even fun, it wasn't horrible suffering, but what the HELL, lady?

There was more but that's the best I can describe this long afterwards. Anyway, hated her. Attended a small school, so I saw her again a few times years later when I was even more prestigiously awarded and a lot taller, and she smiles up at me and simpers like we're buddies, and OOOOOOOOOOOO the buried rage but I'm not going to say anything I just smile and nod and go on with my life.

They've named an AWARD after her at my school. She's described as a "beloved" teacher. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH.

does everyone have a teacher that they still have beef with/ hold a grudge against today??

[twilightofthesandwiches]

There’s a lot of stuff in Deltarune, especially Ralsei’s arc, that is, I think, kind of an exploration/critique of common Video Game tropes about Player Character-NPCs friendships. Mainly the simplification of good/bad options in friendship progression and the concept of the blank-slate protagonist in the context of video game friendships.

I mean, that whole thing of having a Player Character being a stand-in for the Player and so building friendships in-game is much more focused on flashing out the NPCs and making them lovable to the Player. While explaining which traits in the Player Character the NPCs likes or what they would like to do together is given less focus and a lot more ambiguity. Because… well… that character needs to stand in for any person ever who plays the game and they need to feel like this character likes them whatever their individual traits may be. As well as how this whole thing interacts with choices. Like gamifying the idea of friendship into just picking the nicest and most pleasing and placating option until you ‘win’ the status of being friends with them.

Like, that’s also kind of a thing in Undertale (as certain elements in Deltarune are based on or built on the audience response to Undertale). I hardly think it’s a detriment to that game, to me it’s more of a thing of “a game can’t be Everything at Once. Part of Undertale’s greatness is that it knows what it wants to focus on”. But many fans have already poked fun at how, because the idea of Frisk not being a total Blank-Slate-Self-Insert is actually kind of a twist - most of the other characters’ friendships with Frisk involve these wonderfully-written fully-rounded adults trauma-dumping on this silent blank child and then going “Wow you’re such a great friend, I’m so happy you’re here to support me!”

Papyrus’ character was already kinda a Tounge-in-Cheek acknowledgement of the absurdity of the situation. A Guy who is both extremely self-absorbed and extremely wholesome to such an absurd degree that he basically cannot help himself but befriend you, no matter what you do (I mean, unless you kill him)

And I think a lot of Ralsei’s arc in Deltarune, in the ways he relate to Susie and Kris, is meant as a more serious exploration of these tropes.

Because Ralsei starts out with a very… video-gamey idea of how friendship works. He thinks that it’s just about being nice and making sure others are happy

And is shocked to realize how much he appreciates Susie, a person who… if she was the Player, she would absolutely not be choosing the nicest most placating choice each time. She can be a bit prickly and abrasive…. but it doesn’t actually diminish of his fondness of her.

Because, you know, that’s what actual real-life friendships are like.

And yet Ralsei is still surprised to learn that the same is true of him. That his friends also don’t demand just generic niceness, placating comments and gifts from him - they like his personality, not a blank slate. That’s the important part.

And, of course, that also connects with the whole thing of Choices That Don’t Matter and the disconnect between Player and Player Character. While Frisk being their own independent person that you had to leave to have a happy life with their friends is kind of a Twist in Undertale, we know Kris is their own person from pretty early on.

So first of all that creates more situations where despite our control Kris can let their unique personality shine through regardless. Kris’ friendships feel real because Kris is a person separate from the Player who therefore has their own personality that their friends like.

Plus, like with Susie, Kris isn’t necessarily the nicest and most accommodating person. They’re kind of an Edgelord WeirdEnby, so the interactions that show their personality and endears them to their friend often stands in contrast to the nicey accommodating tone of a Player trying to always choose the ‘Good’ option.

Sometimes the ‘right’ answer with Kris isn’t the nicest one, even when they’re with their friends. Because they like Kris, and that kinda comes pre-packaged with a little bit of emotionally-detached teasing.

And our choices don’t really matter, because outside of the Total Terror that is the Weird Route, the Player can’t really choose in a way that changes Kris’ relationships. They will rebel against words that are too cruel or too saccharine for them.

And the actions they take on their own will always be the most important to the development of their friendships.

It’s kind of the most heartwarming twist Deltarune has on the idea of ‘Your Choices Don’t Matter’. Your choices don’t matter because when it comes to friendship, Kris’ personality will always triumph over your choices.

And of course, the general conceit of Deltarune makes the idea of an NPC liking the Player over the personality of the Player Character to be an especially chilling conceit. It makes people inherently more open to the idea because the alternative feels like such a grim concept in-universe. This is one case I am very thankful my choices don't matter and I would like it to continue that way!

[venusalexian]

solet IV

it's a family thing

alexia putellas x teen!reader & barça femení x teen!reader

in which your concept of family expands and Alexia gives you the best present ever

Olga comes home from the airport in the late afternoon and finds a sight that makes her heart skip a beat. The TV playing softly in the background, two empty bowls on the coffee table, and you and Ale curled up on the sofa. She has grown so accustomed to it that she can vividly imagine the build-up to this scene.

You two coming home from your respective trainings, Alexia preparing a quick lunch (“too healthy” – you bantered) that you decided (insisted) in eating it in the living room while rewatching an old Barça game from when Ale was young (“you just wanna make fun of me”, “well yes, if you get to see me do teenage mistakes I should be able to do it too”). 

Ale has not yet mastered saying no to you.

Your head moving to her shoulder but fighting sleep (“i’m not a baby ale, I don’t need a nap”). You falling asleep either way, and Ale following you shortly after, with no option to move without disrupting you.

Her soft, sleepy girls.

She juggles her suitcase over to their room, careful of the noise, changes into comfy clothes after a quick shower, and joins you on the sofa. You rouse from your slumber when she settles on the other side of Ale.

“Hey Olgui.” You mumble, eyes still glazed from sleep. Your jostling wakes Ale up, too.

“Hey, amor.”

Yeah, Olga loves your sleepy smiles when you see her. Practically identical expressions that should not be possible with your lack of common genetics and the little time you’ve been in each other’s lives. 

Without a word, you tug on her arm so she stands up and switches seats, pushing her to sit on the other side of you this time. You grasp each of their hands by your sides, and move your head from Ale’s to Olga’s shoulder.

“Hey, vaya morro. She’s my girlfriend, you know?” Ale stares at you with an incredulous look.

“Quit the dramatics, Ale, you’ll get your cuddles at night, so I get her now.” You even stick your tongue out at her.

“Do I get a say in this?” jokes Olga.

“No” you say in unison, and it makes all three of you smile.

As the silence settles, Ale and Olga share a look over your head, knowing this is the perfect opportunity to have a pending conversation they have been preparing for.

“Hey, solet.” Ale starts. You respond with a hum.

“How do you usually spend the holidays?”

“Well, it’s always been just me and the avis. Not too different from any other day, just with carols on the TV and a very specific holiday menu.”

“Mmmh, and when do you get presents, bebè?” Olga starts playing with your hair as she asks, making your shoulders relax.

“The 6th, for Reyes. Nothing significant; they couldn’t afford much on their pensions. I would always ask for my football gear then.” you respond, lower, softer, self-conscious.

“So smart, solet.” mumbles Ale against your head, leaving a kiss at your hairline. You preen at the praise.

“What do you think about doing it here this year, huh? We’ll get everyone here, Ale’s family, my mami, your grandparents.”

“How, um, how would that work?”

“Well, my family has always celebrated on the 24th and Ale’s on the 25th. What we did last year was host here on the 24th, and then go down to Ale’s uncle house on the 25th with her extended family. As we didn’t do much for the 6th, just went down to Eli’s to exchange gifts, then to my mom’s for lunch. But we could do it here this year, get everyone over for lunch so it’s easier for your grandparents and you to be with us.”

“You’ve thought a lot about this, huh?”

“Yes, solet. However, we also wanted to discuss it with you. Our priority is for you to be comfortable and have a good time. So if any of it looks like too much, we don’t have to do it.”

“How big is your family thing, Ale, on the 25th?”

“A little over a dozen people usually. My grandma will be there, my aunts and uncles, and some cousins with their kids. They’re all excited to meet you. Mami has been bragging.” That makes you crack a smile.

“Yeah, I could do that.”

“It’s decided, then.” They’re both smiling at you so widely, all three of you relaxing.

“We’ve got a plan then. Now, dinner?” Olga uses your knee to get up from the couch, moving towards the kitchen.

“Pizza!” You yell, ready to cash in a reward.

“From the nice, new place by the plaza? Ale asks.

“Yes!”

“No.” She responds with a fake serious expression.

“But Ale!” you pout.

“Fine.” she rolls her eyes, but also hides a smile.

“You really need to learn how to say no to her.” Olga yells from the kitchen, once again amused at your banter.

It’s you and Ale this time who share a secret smile, practically reading each other’s minds, then proceed to run up to her and attack her with tickling. Giggling fills the room, and you can’t help but think that your new plans for the holidays are the best way to end a year filled with so much change.

“You’ve got everything you need, right?”

“Yes, Ale.”

“And you know you can call me anytime and I’ll come, right?”

“Yes, Ale.”

“And –” you cover her mouth with your hand,

“Can we knock, please? We’ve been at the door for like five minutes.”

Before she can answer you, the door opens from the other side.

“I thought I heard you two bickering.” Jana smirks from the doorframe. Ale rolls her eyes, and you smile shily at her.

Ale’s teammates, especially the younger ones, have been a growing presence in your life since that first team bonding night. Coming by the house, and in the past few weeks, even joining Ale at your games. It still came as a surprise to you, though, when Ale came back from training with an invitation for you. Jana had planned a Girls’ Night in her apartment to celebrate the end of classes and exams with her fellow teammates that were still suffering through university.

She had specifically requested Ale to ask you to join them, apparently eager to get to know you better, “considering we all know she’ll be in this team sooner rather than later”. You had blushed when hearing that part and had been equal parts nervous and excited to accept the invitation.

“I can’t believe I’m leaving you here with Jana as the oldest and most responsible one.”

“Yeah, I love you too Ale.” Jana responded, rolling her eyes.

“You know I do.” Ale left a quick kiss on her forehead. “But you better return her tomorrow just as I left her, all clear?”

“Yes, Capi. Now go, no fossils in my apartment tonight.”

“You’ll laugh less when the fossil makes you run laps next training.” Then she turned to you.

“Have fun, yeah? And call me if you need anything at all.” She wraps you in a tight hug and kisses your head softly.

“Yes, Ale.” you mumble into her shoulder. Before you realise it, though, Jana has circled her arm around your shoulders and pulled you to her side.

“She’s ours now. Fuig!”

Jana closes the door on her.

“Be good!” You two hear from across the wood.

Then, Jana turns to face you, a wide smile on her face.

“The rest will be here soon. Let me show you around.” She pulls you into the apartment. “You can drop your bag off anywhere.”

You two move into the living room.

“We’ll be hanging here tonight.” You can tell, the room looks nice and cozy, although a bit crowded right now with the mattresses covering the floor.

“The bathroom is a the end of the hallway, past the two rooms. And the kitchen is —.” She realises she’s lost your attention. Your eyes are fixed on the glass to the right of the TV. Medals, trophies, and pictures of finals with cups bigger than herself.

You don’t notice Jana moving close to your side, both of you now facing the cabinet. 

“You’ll be there with us soon. I know so.” You blush at her words, unsure how to respond. She continues, though, sensing your hesitation. “I joined the first team when I was really young. I know how unbelievable it feels to even consider it a possibility. But trust me, you will.”

She holds your shoulders again, like she did when she pulled you into the apartment.

“And I, for one, am really excited about you joining us.”

You look up at her now, surprised at her words.

“It’s always amazing to get more players coming up from La Masia. You’ll do great.” Yeah, you’re definitely blushing now.

“Besides, I’ve always wanted to have a little sister. Vicky doesn’t count, she’s more of a… feral pet.” She’s smirking now.

“I heard you!” comes from the door, where Vicky and Salma are coming in.

“You could’ve knocked.” She yells, sharing an amused smile with you.

“You gave me the key.” Vicky sing-songs as she enters the room and jumps on her back.

“And I can take it away.” Jana pushes her off her back, but passes her arm through her shoulders like she had done to you, leaving a kiss on the side of her head.

“Yeah, yeah.” They’re both smiling now, and it makes you crave that same easiness and camaraderie.

Vicky then turns to you, and she and Salma move closer to where you two are standing.

“Jana’s a tad intense, but she’s right. And being the youngest in the team is a lot, but we’re super excited for you. And I’ll finally stop being the little kid.” Vicky rambles, pulling you into a hug, the action and words leaving you without words.

Salma lets out a breathy laugh after shaking your hand, more hesitant to invade your personal space than the other two had been.

“Someone save Alexia, with you three, who knows how she’ll say no to any of your shenanigans.”

Before you can respond to her, more voices come from the door.

“Hello!” Kika and Esmee enter, this time actually knocking beforehand.

“Come in! We’re plotting against Alexia.” Jana responds, again smiling mischievously and winking at you, like you’re already partners-in-crime.

“So I came in right at the perfect moment.” Kika hugs everyone in the room, leaving you for last. She envelops you completely in a tight hug, one that you know conveys a similar sentiment to Vicky’s and Jana’s words earlier.

Behind her is Esmee, who comes in more relaxed, but doesn’t hesitate to also pull you into a short one-armed hug like she’s done to the other girls. She’s quick to jump into teasing her teammates, though.

“Are they being too much?” 

“Hey! We’re just being proper older sisters.” Vicky protests.

“Yeah, by annoying her.” Esmee responds, 

“No no, they’re being nice. I promise.” You rebut quickly, feeling the need to defend the others, even if you know she’s teasing.

“Sssh, you don’t have to lie to me.” She continues.

You laugh properly now, amused at the whole scene, happy at the ease with which they’re pulling you into their bubble.

“Ona?” Salma asks when Jana closes the door, surprised they’re not also waiting for their other teammate.

“Nu’uh, she’s abandoned us for London this weekend.” Jana answers, rolling her eyes but with a smile.

“Booo!” respond Vicky and Kika.

“I know. I am sure she’s disgustingly happy without us.” Jana continues. You know you’re missing some context right now. It heightens your feeling as an outsider, but there is no time for you to get nervous before they’re pulling you back in.

“Come on, bebita, you’re choosing take out, and then we’re giving you the full scoop about the team gossip.” Vicky addresses you now as she pulls your arm to the sofa, quick to realize your moment of hesitation.

“I’m only two years younger than you.” you protest, in a whiny voice that actually makes you sound younger.

“Exactly, a baby.” she teases, but her hand is still holding your arm, and her smile is warm, not mocking.

“Oh, please. You’re both babies. But Vicky is right, petita, and you’re not escaping interrogation. We need to know all about you.” Jana ends your short squabble, once again smiling warmly at you.

At some point, Ale’s car should stop being witness to your anxious habits. Your leg bounces incessantly. One of your hands taps a random pattern on the door, the other raised to your mouth, biting your nails. When Ale realises, she grabs the hand at your mouth and brings it down to your thigh, where she holds it.

“Relax, solet. Everyone’s excited to have you there, and you’ll do great.” She smiles over at you as you stop for a red light.

“But –”

“No buts, just… trust me, okay? Nothing is going to happen to you with me there.”

You nod at her as the car moves, and she pulls her focus back on the road. Your leg still bounces, but your hands are calmer, both now holding the hand that Ale has not moved from your thigh as the Ciutat Esportiva comes into sight.

Christmas felt like the confirmation of your new life, like celebrating a milestone. Even Ale’s family celebration, although slightly overwhelming, solidified your space in their life. Everyone had been so excited to meet you, to see Ale’s new role, and you had ended up fitting right in –plotting with Alba to annoy Alexia, playing with the younger kids, blushing when their grandma called you ‘the prettiest girl’. 

Now a new year has begun, one that you have no idea what it will bring. And for the first time in your life, that is an exciting thought instead of an anxious one. Mainly because of this right here, everyone reunited at Olga and Ale’s house, which is starting to feel more and more like yours, too.

“Here, solet. I have one more thing for you.” Alexia says as she hands you one more box. You’ve already opened too many, really. New gear, nice clothes, some trinkets you’d just wanted but never asked for.

“I thought we were done?” you mutter.

“Just one more.” she pleads, and she’s pouting at you like she’s the teenager from the two of you.

“You have to understand her, she’s actually limited herself on how much she could have gotten you.” Alba teases her sister.

“Oh, please, you almost got her the whole store!” Ale responds to her.

“Yeah, yeah, you are both shopaholics, especially if it’s for other people. Now, let solet open it.” Olga finishes the argument for them.

You finally open it, following her guidance. You’re confused, though, when it’s finally unwrapped.

“Ale, I already have my training kit.”

“Yeah, but this one is, technically, different. It's a family thing, getting a new kit for a big milestone” Her eyes are shining, and she’s biting her lip not to smile too wide. But you’re still so confused, so she only receives a frown back.

“I received a call a few days ago. That, is a first-team training kit.”

Your ears ring, and your heart doesn’t know how to hold a normal rhythm anymore. But you need to hear her say the whole thing, need to confirm properly what you’ve fought so long for.

“You’re joining us after the holiday break, you’re one of the B team kids in dynamic for the remainder of the season.” She’s smiling so wide now, a full reflection of your own joy.

You launch yourself at her, hide your face against her shoulder like you’ve grown so accustomed to. One of your newest happy places. Around you, all of your family –yes, family– is congratulating you, screaming and squealing in delight. Your grandparents are hugging Eli, and Olga and Alba are already plotting about supporting you both in matches, as you can see from Ale’s shoulder.

But you and Ale hold onto each other. A sentiment shared with the only other person who fully understands how you’re feeling right now. A reflection of who Alexia was one day. A promise of the future, of what is to come for you together.

The year has just begun, and it is already so different from what it once was.

Training is intense. Everyone is faster than you, more skilled, more ready, attuned to the sets and each other. And even if you had met everyone already, they were still so intimidating. All focused, all doing their best. Especially Ale, who was footballer Alexia, Ballon d’Or Alexia, Captain Alexia. Not, well, your Ale. By the time all is over, you’re more exhausted than ever. And for the first time in a while, you doubt. 

You sit alone for a moment outside in the hall, needing the silence to organize your thoughts. Because what if it’s always this hard, if you’re not exactly made for this, if it’s too soon, if–

Before your head can continue to spiral, someone slides to the floor in front of you. You’re not sure who you expected, but definitely not her. Irene is sitting across from you, and she’s looking at you with an expression that she knows exactly what you’re thinking about.

“It’s a lot, huh?”

You nod, unsure if you can trust yourself to speak without crying.

“It was a lot for all of us, too.” You want to believe her, knowing she’s probably right, but it’s so hard. So she continues when you don’t answer.

“You don’t have to believe me. You just have to let yourself experience it all. Just trust one thing: we want you here. Your team wants you here. And that will be enough.” You nod and smile at her words. Less closed off, more calm.

“Thank you.” You speak clearly, grateful.

“Of course. You’re good, for the team, for her.” That brings a smile to your face, and you reply with warmth. “She’s good for me.” 

“I know that, too. Now, let’s go to the locker room so we can all leave.” She gestures to the end of the hall, and you follow her like a duckling.

All the noise hits you at once when you reach it. The first to intercept you are Jana and Vicky, one on each side of you. They congratulate you on the good work and tease you and each other about funny mistakes you’ve all made in the past couple of hours. Irene’s words have helped so much that you take it all in stride and even jump in with your own jokes and teasing.

Once you’ve changed, a hand taps your shoulder. You turn around.

“Home?” Ale asks, eyes soft.

“Home.” You nod, as if that word is simple and not an evolving concept that grows every day since you met her.

N/A

I'm following a timeline so you get christmas in june :))

don't fully know how i feel about it which is why it took me longer to publish it but i think im sufficiently satisfied now. it's definitely my fluffiest long piece, but i hope it's not too much.

next part should come out soon, it's already half-written and it's been on my drafts the longest.

as always, I love asks and requests in my inbox, feel free to leave your thoughts there!

xoxo, a.c. 💫​

[ce1estiall]

first time

summary uconn!paige x fem!reader you realized you were falling in love with a girl, for the first time. series masterlist | masterlist.

warnings homophobic religious family, mentions of ex-bf, fluff

celestial notes hey guys! sorry this took so long, i have been procrastinating it mostly since my mental health isnt all great. i hope you enjoy!

“i don’t know ‘bout you, but i get butterflies

all these feelings, these trembling hands

like the first time.” first time - twice

the drive home was silent, but your thoughts inside your head were speaking volumes. you were in a state of confusion, still trying to process what just happened at the beach. the sunset was still peeking through as a navy blue sheet took over the sky. the wind was still warm, hitting your skin and making your hair a mess as the windows were rolled down as the radio blasted playing sabrina carpenter.

paige defending you made you overthink, a lot. once you started really analyzing something, your mind could not stop, it was like an endless rollercoaster.

who were those guys? did they get invited by tonya? or did invites get sent after? was he really drunk or trying to hit on me? why did paige help me? why did she call me her girlfriend? why did i get so hot when she called me that?

then one question popped up.

do i like girls?

no i don’t, right?

but the way she called you her girlfriend, the way she protected you, they way she watched you instead of the sunset. you couldn’t stop thinking about how she tried to hit on you, her face turning red when you caught her, her smirking—attempting to play it off. she was soaking in all of your appearance, the way she talked, it made your palms sweat and heart spike up a bit.

you grew up in a very strict and catholic household, attending church every sunday, bible study after school, attending catholic school from kindergarten all the way til your senior year of high school which made you to wear those polo shirts and those skirts that were rolled up so short. your parents viewed homosexuality as a “sin”, as it was “satan trying to take over a pure soul.”

your parents opinions didn’t matter to you. you didn’t view homosexuality as a sin, you viewed it as love. and why could love be such a sin? you had friends that were gay, and you didn’t mind. you always supported them, because you knew deep down if it were you, your family wouldn’t have.

you had a boyfriend in high school, jordan. he was the sweetest soul on this earth. he would always make you happy, from simple kisses to going out with dinners to your family. he loved to show you off, he was so proud to call you his. he made you feel like the luckiest girl in the world, dropping anything he had going to be with you when you would text him how you were feeling—mentally and physically. you loved when he would come over and you would both goof off and laugh for hours over the stupidest things.

when it was time for college decisions, jordan chose ucla, as it was his dream school. you both came to an agreement to end the relationship due to long distance as it would be across the country. yes, it broke you into pieces, but you knew it was for the best. there was no bad blood afterwards, as you both were still mutuals on social media.

you arrived to your apartment, opening the door to the noise of sza playing in the background and the smell of cooked chicken. your roommate, danielle was meal prepping for the week. “hey girl!” she squealed, giving you a hug. “how was it?”

you threw your keys on the counter and sighed, hands on your face. “it was fun, but it was something too.” you were now leaning on the island, palms on the countertop.

“oh no, what happened?” she asked, placing greek yogurt in tupperwares.

you ran your hands through you hair. “welp for 1, tonya invited extra people. and 2, this group of guys tried hitting on me and touching me. it was really fucking creepy.” you didn’t want to tell her about the paige incident just yet, keeping it a secret only for you.

she gave a look of disgust. “ew no fucking thank you! are you safe though? you feel alright?”

“yeah, i’m just gonna head to bed. i’ll see you in the morning dani.” you yawned, heading to your bedroom.

“night! sleep well!” she yelled, hoping you heard her. you plopped on the bed, exhausted. you got a headache from the constant questions you thought of in the car. you scrolled on instagram, seeing all the selfies kyra and tonya posted. it made you smile, knowing you had a good time despite that incident. you turned off your phone and rolled on your back, facing the ceiling while closing your eyes hoping you’d drift off to sleep. ding.

you turned over and glanced at your phone.

paige - notification

you forgot you gave paige your number, immediately freaking out, afraid to open the message. you bite the bullet and opened her text anyway.

paige

hey, did you get home safely? you feel okay?

you

hi paige, i did

i’m okay rn, just still a little creeped out.

paige

you think you’ll be okay through the night?

you

yeah, my roommate is here. i’ll be fine.

paige

alr, i’m just a text away if you need anything.

you turned off you phone and placed it on the night stand, attempting to try to sleep.

an hour later, you insomnia kicked in. you hated these episodes. you would stay up late for multiple hours, then only going asleep for 1 or 2–being exhausted for the rest of the day. you grabbed your phone and went to text paige, like a deep feeling in your gut was telling you to.

you

i can’t sleep and i cant stop thinking about how i didn’t thank you earlier. but really thank you paige, you don’t know how much i appreciate it. sent.

a thought popped in your head that she wouldn’t respond, that she would be exhausted from earlier today and most likely had summer workouts to do this weekend. you continued to scroll, unable to sleep until you got the message banner again.

paige - notification

you opened her message nervously.

paige

i can’t sleep either, but i’m glad i helped you. i’m constantly thinking about you, hoping you’re okay. it’s the least i could do.

thinking about me? you thought.

you

you can’t sleep? why?

paige

a lot actually, i’m overthinking

summer, basketball

you mostly

you

i see someone’s worried about me

i’m not going anywhere p

paige

haha yeah i know

that bikini you wore tho

you looked good

you

aww thank you

paige

it complimented your hair and your skin perfectly, i swear

i couldn’t stop looking at you

you

i like your style, it’s describes you a lot

the way you portray both masculine and feminine styles

paige

ay thanks

i was a tomboy growing up, used to get bullied for it

idc now

you

i bet i wouldn’t have bullied you

you seemed like a badass kid then lol

paige

well i have a stylist actually

i’m not that creative for my outfits lol

you

a stylist?? wow

trying to become the next donatella versace?

paige

shut up

i’m just expanding my taste 🙂‍↕️

if i could, i would just wear oversized tees and sweatpants everyday

but i gotta look presentable for the media ykwim

you

no but yeah i get it

paige

maybe you can help me, you look like you know fashion

you

wow you actually know something about me for once!!

i know a thing or two

paige

i’ve heard a lot about you actually

it’s not bad

you seem like a caring and sweet girl

beauty and brains?

that’s hard to find nowadays

you

did you practice these lines before texting me? who’d you hear this from

paige

god forbid a girl wants to be bold now

kyra and tonya

also one of my friends, kk, showed me your instagram, so don’t say you only know a thing or two, you know A LOT

like that oversized leather blazer with baggy jeans??

woooweee

you did your magic there

you

you really can’t resist me

stalking my insta now👀

i’ll let it slide

instagram: paigebueckers started following you

paige

whoops my finger slipped

you

you’re so corny

paige

yk you love it

you

hmm maybe i do

well im gonna head to sleep now

thanks for texting with me

paige

anytime

good night sleep well princess

dream of me 😉

you

night night 🤍

after the conversation, you smiling as a blush came over to your cheeks. the way she flirted with you, even though it was corny, made you cheeky. teasing her added fuel to the fire, you never wanted the conversation to stop.

were you falling in love with a girl?

you got butterflies when she texted you, and the way she knows about you even though you haven’t met very frequently despite only passing each other on campus or seeing her at her games. it felt like you were falling in love for the first time all over again.

you didn’t care about what your parents would think. you liked girls, you were falling hard for one, developing a crush on paige bueckers, uconn’s biggest basketball star.

you were satisfied, excited even. because you were falling in love with her.

[hoe4hockey]

NSFW A-Z Quinn Hughes

Warnings - smut and mentions of smut. DNI if you are a minor.

Is it even a hockey themed blog if you aren’t posting Quinn Hughes content? 👀

A - Aftercare

Very important to him. Wants to make sure you are well taken care of and well looked after. If anything can be a bit too intense at times. “Quinn someone who just fucked me so hard and I’m pretty sure bruised my cervix can’t then turn around and hand feed me and wipe sweat from my forehead.”

B - Body Part (Their/Yours)

Loves his hands, loves how strong they are and how long his fingers are. Like that he catches you watching him flex his fingers and his veins running along his hands makes you almost drool.

Loves your smile, doesn’t always come off as a fun loving guy but anytime you smile whether it be because of him or literally anything else he eats it up.

C - Cum

Comes hard and lots. Doesn’t care where it ends up as long as he can see it dripping from you or out of you.

“That’s it baby, stick your tongue out and show me how good I taste.”

D - Dirty Secret

Hasn’t ever tried it and wouldn’t know how to ask but wants to try anal. So bad. Like he dreams about it. You walking around the lake house in a skimpy little bikini doesn’t help the situation at all.

E - Experience

Has had a few partners but when you first started dating everything was still a bit clunky as he stumbled around and learned every little thing you like, what made you tick. Now he can make you come from flicking and tweaking your nipples alone. You fear Quinn Hughes may have ruined you for anyone else.

F - Favourite Position

Loves missionary. Loves looking into your eyes and swallowing your moans with kisses while he feels you fall apart around him. Also like to have access to your neck to wrap his long fingers around it.

G - Goofy

Quinn thinks there is a time and place for goofiness and the bedroom isn’t one of them. He can make you giggle and laugh after he’s ruined you.

H - Hair

Dark thick hair that he keeps neat and tidy, connects to a snail trail that when he stretches and his shirt lifts it drives you insane.

I - Intimacy

Very very big on intimacy, in any sense. Loves being close to you and knowing that you are his and his alone.

J - Jerk off

Might do it once or twice a week. Doesn’t really have the need if you aren’t there. His teammates have joked after he drilled into them at practice that maybe he needs to blow off some steam.

“The only thing I’ll be wrapping my hand around is my girls neck and I think that will be exactly what I need.” He says to Brock, leaving him standing in shock in the hallway. He couldn’t look you or Quinn in the eye for a few weeks.

K - Kink

Choking - big fan of choking. He likes his hands knows you like his hands and knows you like them too. Got drunk one night and you wrote necklace between his thumb and pointer finger then placed his hand around your neck. He legitimately almost came in his pants.

L - Location(Favourite places to do it)

Strictly a bed guy, likes having you spread out before him so he can do whatever he wants to you.

M - Motivation (What turns them on/gets them going)

You being a brat. It spins his head and flips a switch inside him.

N - No(Draw a line In the sand)

Will not have sex with you anymore if his brothers are around. Only because they either have some sick intuition and have walked in on you guys in some not so pg13 positions.

O - Oral

Giver, could spend hours buried between your thighs. Wants to feel your thighs squeeze his head and watch them quiver as he tastes you on his tongue over and over again.

P - Pace

Likes to take his time and savour every moment. Would never go fast and want it to be over quickly unless absolutely necessary.

Q - Quickie

The only time they are required are during the off season when you and him offer to go and pick up dinner so you can have a little fun in the car before you get home. Yet somehow Jack still texted midway through and requested you guys pick up some extra stuff.

R - Risk

Quinn is very calculated and thinks about things heavily before he does them, in life, in hockey and also with sex. Doesn’t love the idea risk at all. In any sense, especially when it comes to you.

S- Stamina

Has stamina thanks to working out and training but he really just is a sleepy guy at his core. Loves doing what needs to be done then watching a movie and cuddling into you afterwards.

T - Toys

You have them but you only use them together. He caught you once when you didn’t hear him come through the door and the “punishment” that followed was almost worth doing it all over again.

U - Unfair(How much they like to tease)

Loves it, will tease you any chance he gets. Even in public he is so good at it and sneaky about it the only person who knows are you and him.

Hands in you underwear at a team dinner, check.

Laying on the couch watching movies with his family during the summer and his hands are cupping your breast under your shirt, check.

V- Volume (how loud they are or/what noise they make)

Moans and groans into your ear or your neck, the action sending vibrations all over your body.

W - Wildcard (random head cannon)

Has terrible nightmares, wakes up sweaty and breathing heavily gripping his chest. Looks over and see’s you and suddenly everything feels better again. Will hold you close and almost inhale you while he drifts back to sleep.

X - X-ray

Above average in length. Used to be insecure about it but has definitely learned to use it.

Y - Yearning(how high is there sex drive)

Doesn’t think he has a particularly high sex drive until he isn’t with you then it feels like he could quite literally stretch his skin off. Makes it even worse when he comes home from a roadie and then you can’t walk the next day.

Z - ZZZ(how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Has trouble sleeping in general. Does enjoy staying up and watching you cuddle into him, when he eventually does drift off has an arm firmly wrapped around you.

[kenniesf1]

people we meet on vacation (pt. 2) | OP81

masterlist part 1

pairing: oscar piastri x singer!reader (smau!)

summary: oscar and his childhood best friend, whose families always vacationed together, haven't seen each other in forever. maybe the f1 2025 season summer break is the time for them to rekindle?

tropes: friends to lovers, fluff, angst, social media + written, based loosely off of people we meet on vacation by emily henry

deuxmoi posted a story!

deuxmoi Formula 1 McLaren driver Oscar Piastri spotted with singer/songwriter Yn Ln sitting outside of a club in Copenhagen, Denmark. The two were seen sharing a cigarette.

view all comments

user1 you're not being additive, you're being REPETITIVE

user8 i can't take this anymore LET ME OUTTTTT

user30 love the amount of all caps texts here

user31 we're in the trenches 🫠

user32 ofc they're outside the club

user33 ya like oscar would not be caught dead in a club

user34 every photo i see of them makes me want to jump off a bridge

user35 in a good or bad way?

user36 it's ynoscar, it's in BOTH ways

user37 idk which one of them i want to be more

user38 pls freaky friday with one of them so you can make them start dating 🙏

oscarpiastri posted a story!

oscarpiastri to portofino!

view all comments

user39 oscar in his photography era!

user40 bruh why does everything have to be about yn, what a fucking social climber 💀

user2 they've been friends since they were kids 😅

lando you never take aesthetic photos with ME

user4 ynoscar!!!!

user1 atp im just living off the crumbs

user41 learned helplessness

yn.jpg

liked by hozier, beabadoobee, and 404,921 others

yn.jpg portofino has a special place in my heart 🫶

view all comments

kimiantonelli portofino is in italy 🇮🇹

georgerussell63 ignore him, he just finished geography class

user44 GUYS THEY BOTH USED THE HEART HANDS EMOJI, DOES THAT MEAN ANYTHING

user45 bro must be new to ynoscar bc nothing means anything 😖

alexandrasaintmleux pretty view, pretty girl!!!!

user16 she stole oscar's comment lol

yn.jpg i miss youuuuu

lanadelrey you're a vision

yn.jpg let's not talk about me, LET'S TALK ABOUT WHEN THE NEW ALBUM IS DROPPING

user46 guys no oscar photo in this post OR in the last one abt copenhagen 😰

user47 yall probably scared them off with the ynoscar bs

user48 everything's fine, they referenced each other on oscar's story

liamlawson was this place in cars 2?

charles_leclerc no that was a fictional city called porto corsa

lewishamilton how do YOU know that

lando i have learned that silence sometimes is louder than words

user29 you're using words rn

oscarpiastri buongiorno 👋

user49 THEY'RE BEING SO DRY GUYS WE MIGHT'VE BROKEN THEM

yn.jpg osc you're in the toilet right now

oscarpiastri yk what they say about snitches

yn.jpg they're talented and beautiful and lovely and cool 😎

july 16th, 2025 - 14:19

yn had made it a point that she just had to find good lemonade in portofino. oscar didn't know why--most of the things she did weren't based in general necessity so much as necessity to have fun--so he didn't try to put up a fight, opting to lie in their hotel room with the air conditioning on. the second he had heard the door close behind yn, he jumped up, turning over on his stomach and scrambled for his phone.

"pastry!" answered lando after two and a half rings. "what can i do for you on this lovely sunday?"

"what the fuck is a ynoscar?" asked the aussie, saying the final word quietly, as if he were being watched by interpol. "i've been seeing it all over the internet and i think you're the only one that's online enough. also you seem like you'd care the least."

lando feigned insulted, putting his hand to his chest. "i care a lot," he said.

"okay then," oscar sighed, remembering why he didn't normally go to his teammate for help, "you'd make fun of me the least."

"also not true," lando smiled. "mate, do you even know me?"

"lando, what the fuck is a ynoscar?" he reiterated, itching his neck anxiously. yn's particular talents included a knack for finding things quickly. that's why, as kids, they never played hide-and-seek.

"okay, so before i explain the ynoscar lore," joked lando, clearly having a great time with this already, "i need to know how much internet speak you are versed in. do you know what a ship is, old man?" oscar rolled his eyes. "i'll take that as a yes."

"basically, ynoscar is what fans of you and yn, who think you're dating, call that would-be relationship," he explained. simultaneously, oscar felt overwhelmed at the idea of people around the world rooting for a relationship he, who was actually in it, couldn't fully understand and underwhelmed due to the brief nature of lando's explanation.

"and why were you tweeting about it?"

"danny thought it would be funny."

"i'm bombing danny's farm next time i'm in perth," oscar said, running a hand through his hair.

"why are you asking me about this, oscar? why now?"

the truth was that he really didn't know. somehow, this change between him and yn had come in one fast-paced rush while also being a long time coming. he didn't know why he looked at her like that. why she made him feel fucking strange. there was that word again.

"no reason," he said, clearing his throat. "hattie's been weird about it. thanks for the help." before lando could say anything else--and it seemed he was about to--oscar ended the call and the hotel door swung open.

"score!" yelled yn, holding two glasses of lemonade.

oscarpiastri

liked by alex_albon, nicolepiastri, and 1,099,275 others

oscarpiastri nice lemonade, right yn.jpg?

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user46 oscar woke up and picked aesthetic

user49 mclaren have a new head of social media 😭

user3 show us yn 🔫

user50 these yn fans are literally insufferable, go look at her posts and leave oscar alone

user3 bro saying oscar as if he knows him and doesn't actually just have a parasocial relationship 🤓

mclaren Petition to have a Portofino Grand Prix

scuderiaferrari Please, give us more home races

mercedes no.

user51 does toto run the merc account 😂

yn.jpg it better have been nice, i broke a flipflop for it

oscarpiastri you sacrifice so much for me 🥹

nicolepiastri Who taught you how to be a photographer?

oscarpiastri Yn

user50 oh my god shut uppppppppppp about that whore

user1 why so much yn hate in these comments

yn.jpg girl tell me about it

user1 OH MY GOD I LOVE YOU

logansargeant oscar you promised you'd bring me sorbet

oscarpiastri logan they serve GELATO here

yukitsunoda did you take my camera?

oscarpiastri ...no

yn.jpg

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yn.jpg felt like a bit of a narcissist, so, when in rome, this post is mainly me :)

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maxverstappen1 stop letting yn make jokes liked by author

oscarpiastri i took the first photo, might be the best thing i've ever done

mclaren you're leading the driver's championship???

oscarpiastri did i stutter

user1 HE DIDN'T FUCKING STUTTER

user52 they actually have my heart, i sold it

kikagomes i'm breaking up with pierre to be with youuuu

yn.jpg yes 🥰

pierregasly no 🥰

lewishamilton had to log in to tell you the fits are fire

yn.jpg who needs vogue's approval when you have lewis hamilton's?

oscarpiastri i still think "rome-ing around with osc" was a better caption

yn.jpg so i'm not the only narcissist today huh

user9 i fear this is the end of the road for me, i can't deal anymore

gracieabrams "close to you" was written abt yn

user53 funny. does that mean oscar wrote it?

gracieabrams maybe 🤔

conangray diva italiano

yn.jpg that's not grammatically correct 🤡

rome wasn't on the list. it was in the red journal, somewhere in the later pages. yn had intended for them to visit when they were old and could be that idealized old couple that everyone wanted to be or be related to. it was meant to be portofino then milan and then bye bye italy. but oscar had insisted.

"it'll be like our own ocean's twelve," he explained, combining his knowledge of her film interests with those wide brown eyes, "except without all the theft. unless you wanna do that."

that's why the two of them were standing in a small hotel in the center of the city, sharing a fredo espresso as they waited for the clerk. their whole trip had been planned down to the shoes they would wear and now there was a whole new city they had to make time for. yn didn't mind, but oscar insisted, "i wanted to come here so, please, let me care about the logistics."

as they waited in the lobby, yn pretended not to be noticing the occasional glance that oscar would send her way, reaching for the coffee without looking at him. a part of her knew he was being normal--he'd always looked at her a lot. but there was that paranoia that had existed since she was a kid: he knows.

"i need food," she announced. "can you get the hotel room and just text me? i might die if i don't get some gelato right now." it was noticeable that oscar knew she was lying, his eyes were glossy and lips pursed. but he let her go.

...

oscar was a lot of things. nice, funny, smart, pretty, kind. he was very, very bad at negotiating. maybe negotiating was the wrong word. he was very bad at explaining to hotel managers that he and his best friend were actually not dating and needed a room with two beds and not one.

he paced around the quaint room, getting a stomach ache every time he saw the large bed. oh is the only way to describe how he felt. that all too familiar drop.

a knock sounded from the door. "osc!" yn's voice rang, the excitement noticeable. must mean she brought me gelato too, he thought to himself. as he opened the door and proved himself right, oscar couldn't help the smile appearing on his face. "here you go. lemon." the girl pushed past him to enter the room and suddenly smiling didn't seem all that appealing.

he only had the time for one lick before, "why is there one bed?"

"yeah, about that," he replied, walking over toward her. "the manager lady thought we were dating and said we looked 'so cute'"--he imitated the manager's excitement with his hands--"that she had to give us her best available room. now, best sounds great, but it did have just one bed and... i don't know, i felt like shit correcting her."

yn blinked. oscar blinked. it took a drip of gelato on the creaky floors for them to snap out of the trance that was eye contact. "it's fine," yn said, voice strained so slightly that only oscar would be able to tell. "we can share. we've shared before!" she did her very best to brush it off, not act like her skin was on fire from just the thought of sleeping next to him.

"yeah, that's what i thought," he agreed, feeling a weight lifted off his chest, "best friends can share beds."

"yeah."

"yeah."

"yeah."

deuxmoi posted a story!

deuxmoi Photographed, Formula 1 driver Oscar Piastri and singer Yn Ln having a romantic moment in Rome. The two are currently vacationing together throughout Europe.

hattiepiastri

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hattiepiastri i should put up a stand like lucy from peanuts

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it was late. it was hot. the rome air was practically sticking to oscar's skin. well, it might've been hot. it's not like he was going to notice anyway. in fact, the windows to the hotel room were open and letting a cool breeze in. only, oscar couldn't tell the heat was coming from the girl next to him. it was all in his head.

yn had fallen asleep in seconds. after a wondrous day, full of great pasta and amazing sights and even a few fan encounters, she was understandably tired. on their walk back to the hotel, her sandals dragged against the cobblestones, leading oscar to put his arm under hers and shoulder a bit of that tiredness himself. she didn't say thank you--he didn't even care--but it was all worth it for that look. that god forsaken look.

yn's eyes had met his a million times over in their lifetimes. as kids, sharing a glance after they broke a vase. as teenagers, trying not to laugh as a high school professor said a funny words. as adults, attempting to hide that they were staring by making it seem silly. it wasn't silly.

watching her hair, all messed up over her forehead, and hearing her snores, loud and unashamed and her made him realize what he should've realized years ago: they weren't friends.

well, they were. that wasn't the best phrasing. they were friends, but oscar would spend his pennies in fountains and 11:11s on changing that. friend seemed like it never really did fully comprehend the connection between them. yn had been there for everything. when his friends left, when his family was fighting, when the pressure of being in formula 1 and being in the spotlight was too much. no smile of hers wasn't kind and helpful, no crease in her brow wasn't beautiful and desired, no moment of her time was deserved or unearned.

he wanted to let this happen. to wake her up right this moment and confess his recently discovered feelings in a film-like speech. he wanted to give her eternity to write about. but at the same time he was thinking about how good she was to him, he was thinking about how good she was to him.

he was only twenty-four. he had years and years left, probably consisting of challenges unlike the ones he'd ever faced before. and oscar piastri had a penchant for messing things up. how could he get through anything, much less the rest of his life, without her? if he were to get things wrong, he wouldn't be losing a potential love, he would be losing a friend.

and for those reasons, oscar piastri could never fall for her.

HOPE Y'ALL ENJOYED!!!! tune in for part 3 coming soon. if you'd like to be tagged in the masterlist, please comment! thanks for reading

tagged: @leclercdream @dessashippr @honethatty12

[pilkypills]

fem!Fili and some fun dwarf fashions

[cosmiccacaphony]

I have one from like. Falling while camping. And several on my fingers that just appeared some time. Also I think we should normalise characters having scars that aren't necessarily "lame" but just,,, not a big deal? I have scars on my stomach because I had a surgery as a small teeny baby due to like, minor kidney problems. Nothing life threatening as far as I'm aware, just would have been a hassle throughout my life, and I got lucky enough they had a solution. My understanding of the whole thing is pretty much nonexistent, because I was a baby and I never bother to ask my parents about it because it's never been a big deal to me. The scar is there, sure. Like, I can see it if I look. There's where they stitched me back up! But it's just very inconsequential and normal to me, like boring old news ig. I wish we normalized stuff like that, not sure what I'd call it, just kinda everyday scars that we get just by being human and having shit happen sometimes you know. I know a lot of medical procedures, especially the ones that leave scars, can often be a big deal, but sometimes they aren't, or they happened so long ago it just doesn't matter anymore, ya know? I basically use that scar as a fun fact on the same level as like, saying I've swam with sharks or something. Ayways give characters lame, boring, or normal scars 2025 because we're humans and shit happens and some people scar easily or something just decides to stick even when there isn't some tragic story behind it.

can we give characters lame scars. boring scars. sometimes you dont need to have a big mystery for it. i have a scar on my hand from scratching it on a plastic donut container. lifes full of surprises like that.

[alllgator-blood]

I don't usually do anything for pride month cause I'm fruity every day of the year, but ahhh let's just say this year it felt especially important. Hope everyone is doing safe and that your ally friends/family members are giving you all their worldly possessions + sacrificing heretics in your name! I actually drew a very similar picture last year but didn't end up finishing it, some of the flags were definitely different though. NARINDER HAD THE EVIL AUTISM FLAG FOR SOME REASON. Shamura was the only one I finished so I'll just drop them off here:

Wow look at them go, rejecting humanity and encompassing cosmic knowledge and ceaseless war rather than masculinity or femininity....what an icon

Over the year that I've been in this fandom, I've had a lot of thoughts about Shamura's gender that I'll dump here, I WILL SAY it gets more ranty than I've ever gotten on this blog + talks about the fandom itself, so I hid it under the cut. But I feel like I've been pretty tame on this blog so far and because it's pride month, I have the legal right to make ONE rant about a queer fictional character's perception by the fandom

My weak enby heart still has a fucking death grip on shamura that hasn't been loosened in over a year at this point. They're not the best nonbinary representation in media but they're MY FAVORITE and that's all that matters. I can't stress how awesome it felt playing an actually cool, fun game a couple years ago and seeing that the Wisest, Most Powerful Eldritch Beast in all the land was a disabled nonbinary person. And it goes completely without question, it's like yeah that's shamura and *they're* going to traumadump on you and mind control your followers to rebel against you. Don't even worry about it bro

Being like....nonbinary and disabled and native and butch and yadda yadda, I swear to god I just got used to having no media/characters I could relate to. I didn't even think about how bad it felt until I'd stumble into the odd comic or indie game that had a Diverse Cast that MAY feature someone like me, but generally those types of things don't really *do* much with those characters. Not to be like THEY JUST WANT BROWNIE POINTS but...uhhh.........is it so bad to say that sometimes it does feel that way lmao, I won't play your game or read your comic if I feel like you see me as a checkbox to tick rather than a person with a fundamentally different experience.

I'll take this time to say it is kind of disheartening to see the fandom's treatment of shamura's gender sometimes, as someone who uses exclusively they/them. I've got a thick fucking skin, I've publicly acknolwedged I was genderless since before the nonbinary flag was even made, I've had a lot of time to roll with the punches that inevitably come from being trans. But literally one of the first comments I ever got about my shamura headcanons (when I still posted on reddit like a year ago) was that they didn't like that I made them AFAB and said "why can't they just be completely genderless". Like...making the TRANS character TRANSITION at some point was a bad thing? I wasn't saying "they're a girl in my drawings lol" and I even explained that I made them AFAB so I could connect with them better but. Ough

I s2g just mentioning this character brings up arguments, same with the lamb to a lesser extent, but DO NOT look at the reply chains on the youtube uploads of ANY of shamura's songs. It's always that someone calls them a him or her, someone corrects them, someone crucifies that person for being the Woke Police, blah blah blah IT'S AWFUL. It's funny in a way that the mere presence of a nonbinary person is enough to start a small war, but it also feels dehumanizing to know that my gender just cannot respectfully be talked about the same way binary genders can.

While I'm still talking about this, I don't hold it against people who played the game in other languages and call shamura "he" or w/e because from their perspective, the character is male. I've not changed my perspective of the character because I found out they're male in other releases, so I can readily accept that those folks won't either. But it feels....gross to see people who played it in english who just picked whatever binary gender they wanted shamura to be and went with that. Literally every single character with a confirmed gender is male except like, Heket + Forneus + Monch, so to take the ONE undebatably nonbinary character and decide they're not good enough the way they are is....ough. "It's my headcanon" bro that's erASURE IDK HOW ELSE TO TELL YOU. The people doing it probably literally do not comprehend what it's like to never see themself in the media they consume so I don't hate them or anything, but it took me like two decades to find a character whose gender feels like mine. It's lonely out here man

There's something to be said about me talking about that while making my kallamar nonbinary, but I'll just say this: there are so, so many male characters out there. If there was a crowd of millions of characters and ONE GUY vanished, you wouldn't be able to tell. But if there was like...a broom closet with like 9 they/thems, you'd fuckin notice if one was gone. AND I DO. Nonbinary representation isn't good enough rn to be taking the very few they/them characters out there and being like "nope my headcanon is that you're just some guy/chick", especially when sooo many people do it. Me taking one sopping wet man out of that crowd and being like "you can still be a sopping wet man, but sometimes you're a girlfail and sometimes your gender is squid" isn't the same I don't feel, otherwise I wouldn't have done it. I can't stop anyone from making shamura binary, we're all just random internet artists and do as we please, but I'm still allowed to judge from afar. I've definitely had people judge my headcanons from afar lmao

edit: I walked away and had to run back because I need reiterate, if you give Shamura features that are seen as "binary" but keep them nonbinary I think it's cool and based, especially if you are also nonbinary and just want to connect with the character more. "Gendered features" or w/e that are on a nonbinary person don't detract from their nonbinary-ness and we don't owe anyone perfect androgyny. I have boobs and an hourglass shape but also a lot of body hair + mustache and a good amount of muscle mass, doesn't mean I'm more girly or manly.

Okay end of rant, I had to get that off my chest for like EVER tbh. I really really hate discourse or drama or w/e but this is a topic that does mean a lot to me, so I made an exception this one time to make my opinion known.

[e1e4n0r5]

Their Little Plaything: 5

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Fandom: Arcane: League of Legends

Pairing: Bullies Cait & Vi x Loner Nerd Reader

Words: 4249

Synopsis: Some hard discussions are had

Warnings: Bullying/mocking, power imbalance Reader finally levels that playing field baby!!!, FFF threesome, ANGST!!!!, Powder comin' in hot, mentions of disordered eating (unable to eat to due emotional distress, forgetting to eat), fingering, oral sex (all receiving, all giving), dirty talk, praise kink, FEELS!!!

You were back at their house the next night, your heart hardened for whatever may come. Vi had let you in, walking with you in silence to the kitchen. Cait sat perched on one of the stools at the kitchen island, a laptop open in front of her, her chin resting on her hand as she stared intensely at the screen.

Vi stood against the counter they loved to fuck you on – you now knew that was due to hidden camera in the wall only a few feet away – her arms folded, clearly on edge.

You didn’t move further into the room, your hands twisting nervously.

“I want to see everything,” you said, voice cold and steady. “Every photo. Every video. All of it. And then you're going to delete them.”

Vi’s jaw tensed, and Cait’s eyes narrowed a touch. They weren’t surprised, you'd said as such the night before.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Cait said after a pause, her tone infuriatingly calm.

Your stomach twisted. “What do you mean, not a good idea? You recorded me. Without my consent. You don’t get to decide what’s a good idea or not.” You eyed her laptop. “Last night’s footage? Having fun editing your little pictures, making your GIFs of you two fucking me?” you snapped.

Cait shut the laptop defensively, not meeting your eye.

Vi ran a hand through her hair, clearly frustrated. “We told you, we’ve never showed them to anyone. It wasn’t about that.”

“Then what was it about?” you snapped.

“It was a private thing,” Cait said. “Just for us.”

You let out a bitter laugh. “Oh, well, that makes it okay, then. Just a private porn collection of your little conquests, right? Some trophies for you to look back on when you get bored?”

“No!” Vi barked. “Fuck. No. It wasn’t like that.”

Cait hesitated. “It was, at first,” she confessed. “It always was. For us to look back on the girls we'd fucked, on those memories. The things we all did together. But, again, it was only ever for us.”

“I knew it,” you whispered. “And you think I’m so weak, that I’ll just roll over and let you do whatever you want with my body.”

“That’s not true,” Cait said, her voice lower now. She caught herself in the lie, a reflex. “Perhaps in the beginning.”

Your breath caught.

Vi exhaled sharply, straightening up like the words were forcing themselves up her throat. “You were pathetic. You were the quiet, weird, little loner nerd, and easy to fuck with. And we liked fucking with you.”

You stared at her, each word hitting like a slap. She flinched at your expression but didn’t stop.

“But then Powder stood up for you. Suddenly you weren’t just some nerd we could poke for fun. You started opening up; we’d see you with Powder around campus, laughing, hanging out. Just being normal. You had this spark in you, and we liked seeing it grow.”

Cait stood from the stool, her voice gentle but firm. “We saw how kind you were. How smart, beautiful. You were never supposed to matter. Then after Halloween, you did. We realised that you weren’t a loner; you were alone. And we didn’t quite know what to do with that, so we fell into old patterns.”

You swallowed hard, blinking fast as tears threatened to fall but you couldn’t let them. You refused. “You’re not going to delete the videos of me, are you?”

They exchanged a look, something soft, scared, unspoken.

“They’re ours,” Cait said. “They’re pieces of something real this time. Of something we don’t want to lose.”

“They're not real if I didn't want them taken! They're stolen moments, pieces of me you felt entitled to.”

“We like you,” Vi added quietly.

You froze.

What?

“We want those memories because you’re in them. And we want more of them. If you let us.”

“More photos?”

“More memories,” Cait corrected.

You stared at her, stunned. “So, this started because I was easy for you to hurt, and what, now it’s love?”

“Yes,” Caitlyn said simply. “Messy, selfish love. But real.”

You said nothing. You’d only said that word to mock them, to show them your hurt. But…Was it real? “You two love me?”

They looked at each other, then nodded together.

Vi confessed softly, “Yeah, we do, sweetheart.”

You swallowed harshly, your throat burning with unshed tears. You could never have expected them to say that. “And the videos?”

Vi’s eyes met yours, guarded. “They stay. Even if you go-” Cait had to turn her head away. “Even if you go, they stay with us.”

"How do I know you won't just leave when you're bored of me?"

They shook their heads. "Not gonna happen, sweetheart."

Silence stretched. Your hands were shaking, your breath uneven. Everything inside you screamed that you should walk out. That this was wrong, dangerous, too much.

But another part whispered something else, something quieter. That even in all the mess, something here was painfully, confusingly honest.

You swallowed. “I need to think…”

Both nodded immediately.

“We’ll wait,” Cait said.

You turned to the door, heart racing.

And just before you opened it, you paused. But you said nothing.

Then you were gone.

Powder knew something was wrong. Like a sixth sense went off in her head, she was over at your dorm room the next morning. You'd been curled up in bed with a cup of tea, too distressed for food, just staring out the window as you tried to sort through your feelings.

Frantic knocking on your door disturbed you. It could only be Powder.

You stood up, letting her in with a small, sad smile.

“What’s happened?” she asked, immediately pulling you into a bear hug.

You wrapped your free arm around her, holding her close. “Hey, Pow.”

“What’s going on?” she demanded, holding you at arm’s length. You looked awful.

You pulled away, sitting on your bed, your back against the wall. “We had a fight.”

Powder stood still in the centre of your room, considering you carefully, her face marred by a frown and squint. “It's the photos, isn't it?”

You paused. “For fuck’s sake,” you hung your head back against your wall. “Seriously, Pow, are you psychic?”

She shook her head. “I know you, I know Vi, and – to a lesser degree – I know Cait. I just knew those photos would come into it. S’a risky game to play.”

You stayed silent, staring into your tea.

“So? You gonna tell me?”

You flexed your hands around your mug. “They were taking photos and videos of us, without telling me.”

Her jaw clenched, almost biting through her tongue. She was going to beat the two of them senseless. Trying to keep her cool for you, she asked calmly, her hands twitching at her sides, “Have they shown them to anyone, posted them somewhere?”

“No. No, they said it was just for them. Like a...I don't know, a kink. Maybe they liked the control it gave them? But then they said the more they started to like me, the more it became about having memories of us together.”

“Without asking you.”

“Yeah.”

“Did they ever ask you?”

“Yeah, lots of times.”

“And were you okay with it when they asked? Really, actually okay?”

You sipped your tea, buying yourself a few seconds to think. “I was scared at first, shy. But they made it exciting.”

“How long were they doing it in secret before they started asking?”

You hesitated. “I don’t know. They won’t show me.”

“Jeez.” Powder pondered for a few seconds. “So, is this it with them? Or could you forgive them? After I beat the ever-living shit out of both of them.”

You inhaled deeply, looking out the window. Powder let you sit in silence as you debated with yourself. Eventually you looked back. “I want to be able to forgive them.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “I'd say that's a good place to start.” She looked around your room, eyeing the growing pile of laundry, and the bin full of noodle cups. All of them barely touched. “When did you last eat something?”

You paused to think. You took too long. “Um…”

“Nope, that’s it! I’m getting us nuggets!” she declared.

“And fries?” you asked timidly, only just realising how much your stomach hurt.

“Of course fries, you numpty. And ice cream! And then we’ll talk about how stupid girls are.”

You had called them both over, your message simple: “We need to talk.”

Your room was dim, lit only by the amber glow of a desk lamp and the lavender candle you’d lit in a futile attempt to soothe yourself. You sat cross-legged on your bed, arms wrapped tightly around yourself. Vi was sat in your desk chair, leg bouncing nervously, while Cait leant back against your desk, her face troubled.

You didn’t speak right away. Let the silence stretch long enough for it to fray the edges of their usual confidence.

Finally, you looked up.

“I want honesty,” you stated. “Full honesty. It doesn't matter what the truth is, how much you think it might hurt me, you have to be honest. If you're not honest, that's it, I'm done.”

Both their heads shot up, alarm clear on their faces.

You took a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest, then continued. “When I was in high school, I liked this girl. Heather Scott. I'd had a crush on her since Freshman spring. In Sophomore year, I told her I liked her. And she said she liked me back. Smiled at me, held my hand. We agreed to meet the next afternoon behind the bleachers. And when I got there...”

“She didn’t show?” Cait asked gently.

“Oh, no, she did. Along with about half the school, all of them laughing at me…Some were recording.”

Vi clenched her wrapped hands. “Fuck.”

“Videos got posted online. The school managed to get them taken down and thankfully some people got expelled – the district classed it, sort of, like a hate attack – but the damage was done.”

They both looked tortured, Vi clenching her hands, Cait unable to stand still.

“I heard about the others.”

Neither of them breathed.

“I thought maybe…What we had was different,” you continued, your voice low. “But it’s not, is it? This is what you do. You find someone – someone you can push and control – and you make them feel wanted. Special. Until you’re done.”

“That’s not fair,” Cait said quietly.

“Isn’t it? You filmed me. You kept things from me. You played games with my head, and the worst part is, I let you. Because I thought I was the only one, that I was different.”

“You are different,” Vi said. “You think we go around falling in love with every girl we fuck?”

Your breath caught, still oddly uncomfortable with them using that word. “That’s not the point. And, honestly, I’m not even sure you two know what love looks like towards other people. You love each other, sure. But all I know is the stories about how you used girls up and moved on. I’ve seen the messages and the photos. One girl left school!”

Cait looked away. “We never hurt anyone.”

“Maybe not physically,” your voice cracked. “I can’t speak for them, but you made me feel like I was crazy that night, Cait. Like wanting honesty or respect was a crazy thing to ask for.”

Vi leant forward, eyes blazing, but beneath the heat was something else. Regret. Guilt. “We didn’t mean to do that. Not with you.”

“But you did it anyway,” you said, voice wavering.

Silence settled again.

“What about the videos?”

Cait shifted her feet. “What about them?”

“How important are they to you moving forward? If we…Continued…Would you keep filming me without my knowledge? Or what if I said I never wanted to take any photos or videos ever again, even if you ask? Would that be a deal-breaker?”

Vi’s voice had gotten hoarse, “We’re not letting you go.”

That shocked you.

“We want to be good for you. We’d love to keep making memories together-”

“Taking sex photos,” you corrected sharply.

“But,” Cait continued for Vi, “If you truly don’t want that, then we won’t. They’re not the most important thing to us now.”

“That would be you,” Vi added.

“It would be a big change for you,” you said sceptically. “How often do you think you’d reach for your phones when we’re together? Would you feel like something’s missing if there weren’t a camera on us?”

You looked between them. These two women who had made you feel seen, wanted, beautiful…But also paranoid, used, unsure.

Your heart warred with your head.

“Prove it,” you said finally. “Stop hiding things from me. Stop acting like you own me just because you want me.”

Both Cait and Vi nodded, solemn. For once, no clever smiles, no lingering touches to smooth things over.

Just a promise.

The door closed behind them.

Vi stood in the entryway, fists clenched, jaw tight. Cait set her keys down with mechanical precision. The silence between them buzzed like static, hot with tension, thick with everything they didn’t say in front of you.

"She thinks we're monsters," Vi finally said.

Cait perched on the couch, hands clasped. “Maybe we are.”

Vi turned, eyes narrowing. “Don’t say that.”

“You heard her,” Cait’s voice flat. “She thinks we used her. That we’re still using her.”

Vi flopped onto the couch, rubbing a hand down her face. “It wasn’t like the others. You know it wasn’t.”

“I know,” Cait replied, quieter. “But how is she supposed to believe that when we haven’t done anything different? For fuck’s sake, I used the same chat name for all of them!”

Vi was silent for a beat. “I didn’t think it would go this far. I didn’t think we’d care.”

“You said it yourself,” Cait murmured. “She wasn’t supposed to matter.”

“But she does.”

The words sat between them like a challenge, too heavy to ignore.

Cait stood, walking upstairs to the desk in their bedroom. Sitting down, she opened a hidden drawer, pulling out a keychain of multiple USB sticks. The ones they kept everything on. She held it in her palm, staring down at it.

Vi hovered in the doorway. “You thinking about deleting it all?”

“I’m wondering why we haven’t already.”

“Because it’s her. Because I don’t want to forget the way she looks when she lets us in. When she stops being afraid.” Vi stepped in, bracing her hands on the desk next to Cait. “So? You want to delete it?”

Cait was quiet for a long moment. Then she shook her head, setting the drives back in the drawer and closing it gently. “Not yet.”

Vi’s voice was low. “You think that makes us terrible?”

“I think it makes us selfish. But I also think it means we’re not ready to let her go.”

Vi gave a dry laugh. “We’re not good at this. At being good.”

“We’ll try. For her.”

Vi exhaled through her nose, taking Cait’s hand and crossing the room to sink onto the bed. “She’s not going to trust us again easily.”

“Then we earn it.”

Vi looked at her. “No more games?”

“No more games.”

Vi nodded, slowly, and rested her head against Cait’s shoulder. The two of them sat in silence for a long time, the weight of their decisions still heavy, but now tempered with something else.

Hope.

Then the doorbell rang.

Both women’s head shot up.

Could it be…?

Vi shot off the bed, Cait following after her. Vi skidded across the marble floor, frantically pulling the door open.

She was shoved back.

“You absolute,” shove, “pieces,” shove, “of shit!” Powder screamed at Vi, slapping her sister’s chest.

“Powder! Powder, calm down!” Vi urged, trying to catch her sister’s hands but Powder evaded her.

“You assholes! How could you?!”

Cait approached slowly. “Powder, please, let us-”

“Shut the fuck up! You recorded my friend, my best friend! And now she’s a wreck!” Powder eventually stopped hitting at Vi, who successfully pushed her back a few steps. “She trusted you,” she cried, her voice cracking. “She’s hurting, she can’t eat! You made her feel like she was only…Some toy to capture. Like she was just a game, not your girlfriend. Not someone you’re supposed to care about.”

Vi looked away, her jaw clenching.

Cait stepped forward slowly, her voice calm but serious. “We love her, Powder.”

“Then act like it,” Powder shot back. “Because right now? You don’t get to say that unless you mean it. Unless you show her.”

Vi’s voice was rough when she finally spoke. “We didn’t mean to hurt her. That was never the plan. It got…Complicated. We got used to doing things a certain way.”

“With all those other girls you think I don’t know about?”

Cait and Vi looked alarmed.

“Yeah, I heard about them too. My first week here, when people figured out I was the infamous Fighter Vi’s baby sister, let’s just say the rumours made their way back to me.”

“She’s not like the other girls,” Vi said quietly.

Cait nodded. “And you’re right, Powder. We messed up. We’ve been talking about it, about changing things.”

“We’ve already promised her honesty,” Vi added. “We’re not hiding anything anymore.”

Powder crossed her arms. “She deserves more than promises. She deserves effort. Care. She’s already got enough scars from the past, she doesn’t need more from the only two people she’s ever felt safe with.”

Cait stepped closer. “We will do better. You have our word.”

Vi looked up and met Powder’s eyes. “We’re not going to lose her. We’re going to prove we can be better. For her. For real.”

There was a long silence before Powder nodded once.

“Good,” she said softly. “Because if you hurt her again, I won’t be coming here as your sister.”

She gave them one last look, then walked toward the door.

Vi followed. “Powder-”

Powder muttered, glancing back, “Don’t ever make me hate you this much again, Violet.”

The door slammed shut behind her.

You’d been tying yourself in knots for days, turning everything over in your mind a thousand times. After hours of just staring at the wall in your room as you’d pretended to study, a cold untouched microwave meal (that Powder had bought for you; one more thing to feel bad about) near your books, you’d forced yourself out into the fresh air, hoping it would clear your mind a little. You hated how well it worked.

The nights had cooled, a soft breeze tugging at the hem of your jacket as you sat on a bench outside your dorm building. After watching campus life move around you for a while, you pulled your phone out.

I don’t want to be alone tonight.

Half an hour later, the three of you all stood in the centre of your room, none of you knowing what to do. You twisted your hands together, suddenly unsure what to say now that they were here.

“I’ve been thinking,” you said softly, “about all of this. You’ve both said you want to be better. And I do think you mean it. But… I don’t think I’ll ever forget how it started. How you made me feel. What you did.”

They glanced at each other, preparing themselves.

“For what it’s worth, sweetheart…” Vi started.

Cait finished, “We’re so sorry.”

Jaw trembling, you nodded.

“Can we just skip all that?” you begged in a quiet voice, your eyes filling with tears. “Can you just be kissing me now?”

Cait rushed to you, her hands pulling your face to hers, your lips clashing together passionately. Happy, emotionally-exhausted tears leaked from your eyes as you clung to her, as if she'd vanish if you didn't hold on tight enough.

“We’re sorry, baby,” Cait poured against your lips. “We’re so sorry, we’re so fucking sorry.”

You heard your door open. “Alright, everyone, put your headphones on, put some music on, or get out: this make up sex is gonna get loud!” Vi shouted down the hallway.

“And now we’re sorry for that too,” Cait rolled her eyes.

“Vi!” you cried out in embarrassment, your face blushing bright red.

She locked your door with a shrug. “At least I warned them,” she smirked, heading your way.

Cait eased you from her arms and nudged you into Vi's. The pink-haired woman pulled you close, demanding in her kisses as her lips fought against yours. You cupped her breasts, earning a low curse.

“Are you sure, sweetheart? We can take it slow,” Cait promised.

“Cait...” you panted, turning your head as you stayed in Vi’s arms.

“Yes, darling?” she asked, gently cupping your cheek.

“Fuck me. Now!” you challenged.

Vi growled, picking you up and sitting you down on your bed. She frantically undid your jeans, pulling them down your legs, but getting them stuck on your shoes. “Fuck! Okay, from now on,” she said firmly, pulling your shoes off and throwing them over her shoulder, “skirts and dresses only! Need quick access, baby.”

You nodded dumbly as your pussy leaked, moving your arms so Cait could remove your top and bra. Naked before them as they stood over you fully clothed, you shivered. Cait sat down on the bed, pulling you into her lap.

 Vi knelt between your legs, pushing your thighs apart. “Keep them open,” she instructed. In a devotional whisper, she kissed over your hips, “We missed you. We missed you so much.”

“I missed you too,” you whispered back as Cait held you close, kissing your neck.

Vi moved her kisses down to your pussy, flicking her tongue out and just touching your clit. You whimpered, begging for more. Vi met your eyes as she moved over your clit, sucking gently at first, then gradually increasing speed and pressure. You keened loudly, uncaring who heard you.

Cait chuckled in your ear, cupping your breasts and rolling your nipples. You pushed your chest into her hands, reaching a hand back and holding her hair.

“Do you like Vi’s mouth on your pussy, darling?”

You nodded, your breathing coming in choppy, your hips starting to roll. Vi held you to her face, squeezing the flesh of your ass as she moaned into your slit.

“I think Vi likes it too,” Cait smiled, tugging your nipples just a little harder than she normally would. You whined. “You always taste so sweet. We’ll never get enough of you.”

Vi built you up with her tongue, laving your clit and lips, sliding inside you and fucking you with it. You shook in Cait’s arms as your orgasm rolled through you, your head tipping back against her shoulder as she cupped your jaw.

“Good girl,” she praised in your ear, “that’s the first one,” making you whimper.

Vi eased your thighs back together, wiping her chin. You reached out, tugging the bottom of her shirt up, whining in your need to see her. She chuckled at your neediness, pulling her shirt over her head and unzipping her sports bra. You desperately pulled her in close, wrapping your arms around her tightly as you kissed between her breasts.

She tipped your chin up. “Who do you want first, baby?”

You groaned, you couldn’t possibly decide.

“Okay, on your knees, baby,” she urged, pulling you forward gently out of Cait’s lap.

Eagerly kneeling before her, Vi helped you open her jeans, pushing them down her thighs. Tugging her boxer briefs down, you didn’t wait any longer before lunging forward for her pussy. She groaned, holding the back of your head.

Cait stood up, removing her blouse and tailored skirt. Vi pulled her into her side, kissing her deeply, moaning into her mouth as you sucked her clit. Vi reached down, sliding her fingers into Cait’s panties, rubbing her fingers over Cait’s dripping pussy. Cait panted into Vi’s mouth, shifting her hips so Vi could slide her fingers inside, her hand on the back of your head, holding you to Vi’s pussy.

The two of them came above you, Vi flooding your mouth and chin with her juices as Cait did the same to her hand.

The rest of the night passed in a haze of lips, tongues, and fingers. You all realised that you had taken all your toys to their house, leaving you with only what you had – yourselves. It didn’t matter though; between the three of you, you had more than enough imagination to pass the night away.

You and Vi scissored on your bed, Cait alternating between you, kissing and sucking your breasts, occasionally dripping spit onto your clits. Cait laid on her back, Vi eating her out, whilst you rode her face. You fingered Vi from behind whilst Cait sucked her clit. You and Vi 69’d whilst Cait fucked herself on your desk. And so much more, you could barely remember.

Laying in your small bed together, curled in tighter than you thought possible, they swore they'd never let you go again.

And they never did.

Notes: WE MADE IT!!! Thank you so much for following this story, I had so much fun writing it. The epilogue is coming 💦 as well as bonus chapters 💦��

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