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reiderwriter · 2 months

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Well, Are You Mine?

Final Chapter of I Can't Help Myself

Summary: Spencer adjusts to fatherhood alone.

Warnings: Angst, hopeful ending, mentions Canon character death (Gideon), mentions of new parent stress, single parenthood, etc.

A/N: I'm back! The final chapter is finally here, and I'm so very happy!! Thank you all for waiting patiently while I recovered from my illness. It's monsoon season here right now, so I've been hit with just depressing wave after wave of coughs, colds, fevers, and general rainy season ailments. But now this is finished! Thank you for joining ke on this three month journey. I'll be publishing a much happier, much fluffier epilogue within the week, so please look forward to that~♡ Without further ado, The End.

In the six weeks since his daughter had been born, Spencer Reid had experienced what he could solidly call the most terrifying weeks of his life.

The baby cried, and his heart beat out of his chest. Rain or shine, fully awake or fully knocked out, a single gargle or a full on scream and he was sprinting to her side to coo her back to blissful sleep, or to change her, or just to hold her close.

In the six weeks up to her birth, he'd pointedly avoided parenting books on the whole, doing his best to drown out all the memories from reading similar books when JJ was pregnant. Every memory stung as he clawed his way back to the family that was prematurely ripped from him.

But the baby was here now. The baby was safe, and the baby was crying, which he knew was absolutely healthy and nothing to worry about, and completely and totally fine, except it dropped his heart to his stomach everytime she did it.

It wasn't as if your daughter was a particularly fussy child. She was a newborn, she was a healthy weight and size, and the doctors who had checked her over at the hospital after her birth had reassured him multiple times that she was totally healthy. A miracle, all things considered.

And she was his miracle. For six weeks, she'd been his little wonder.

The team had banded together to fix up his apartment while she'd been observed in the hospital for the first few days of her life.

He'd sat and watched her through the newborn window at the hospital while Penelope had cleaned up his apartment, and Luke had built him a crib.

Emily and JJ had gone hunting for baby clothes and found probably a lifetime supply of 0-3 months, 3-6 months, and 6-9 months babygrows, t-shirts, dresses, and matching little hair bows for everything.

The first time he'd seen the socks, he'd broken down.

Arriving back with his newborn daughter to his apartment, he'd carried her to her new room, desk removed and crib added, though the walls were still shelved with books he really needed to do something with. He'd opened the sock drawer and been faced with a drawer full of single socks. There wasn't a matching pair in sight.

He'd pulled his daughter into his arms and held her close as the tears fell once again.

It had been six weeks since you'd delivered your first baby, and Spencer was sure that if you had the opportunity, you'd be cussing him out continuously.

Because as much as he doted on his daughter, his sweet baby, who he swore was already smiling sweetly up at him each time she grabbed his pinkie with her whole tiny fist, he had still not given her a a name.

“We can't just call her baby,” Emily complained to him after three days, already getting restless with Spencer's lack of decisiveness.

“I won't name her without Y/N,” he'd replied, and Emily had shut her mouth, not willing to open up that can of worms around him just yet. The sudden silence whenever he mentioned you was deafening. Spencer felt the team growing rigid each time he said something even slightly hopeful, then gently tried to lead him back to being ‘realistic.’

It had been six weeks since you'd given birth, and smiled at him sweetly as you brought you'd daughter into the world and six weeks since you'd quietly slipped into a peaceful coma.

The first week, he'd been told to prepare himself for the worst. The second week, he'd been told there was nothing more that they could do.

But in the third week, you'd moved. Just your hand, just a twitch, but a sign of life the doctors had been trying to convince him wasn't there before.

In the fourth week, you'd recovered enough to be taken off the ventilator.

You were clawing your way back to consciousness, readying yourself to meet your precious, sweet baby.

In the sixth week after Spencer Reid became a father, he took his daughter back to the hospital to meet her mother again. With some expert baby-sitting from Penelope, he'd managed to visit you once every two days at least in the last few months, but with the little-one still only small, hospital visits to trauma wards weren't exactly recommended.

When they'd transferred you to a regular ward, he'd packed his bags immediately and gathered the baby up, strapping her into her carrier and waiting desperately for visiting hours to begin.

After thirty minutes, he made a call.

“Emily? Can I… can we get a ride?”

Of course, she'd agreed. While no one else had been letting themselves hope, they had absolutely been at his beck and call. He'd been swamped with guilt calling JJ at 3am asking how to settle you because he'd tried everything, and constantly relying on Penelope to come and help him and Luke and Emily, picking up extra hours to finish his paperwork because his paternity leave still hadn't been approved.

He felt guilty, overwhelmed, and stressed, and he needed you to wake up so goddamn much that he feared if he got any bad news, he would shatter. And he didn't know how to be a father, because really he hadn't had one before he was 20 and Gideon became his, and even he had left when things got hard. So how could he be sure he wouldn't.

So he hadn't given his daughter a name. And, yes, it was because he wanted to do it with you, to pick out a name together, but also it was because he didn't think he could stand knowing it if he was too weak and ran from her.

The pressure built and built for six weeks, as he fell in love with his daughter, who deserved better than his love, and then Emily pulled up in his car, and he started sobbing.

“Spencer!” Emily exclaimed, not expecting the outburst at all, the loneliness of the last five months catching up to him finally.

“Emily… Emily, I'm a terrible father-”

“No! No, sweetie, you're-”

“My daughter doesn't have a name!”

Emily switched the engine off and then grabbed Spencer's shoulder, roughly turning him to face her if he wouldn't meet her in the eyes.

“You have survived this job for nearly two decades. You have survived gunshots, and murderers, and loss that I can not begin to comprehend, and you love that child. You are grieving, and you are stressed, and it is so totally, completely normal to not be okay after everything you've been through,” Emily held her breath, waiting for his reply. Just as he opened his mouth to whisper more doubts, the baby in the back seat began to fuss and cry.

Unable to stop himself, Spencer laughed. Emily laughed with him. They sat giggling in the car together, tears in their eyes as his daughter kicked up a fuss.

“She doesn't like hearing you talk badly about her daddy,” Emily joked and started the engine again.

When Spencer finally made it to your room, his daughter had stopped fussing. A quick bottle in the parking lot had mollified her, and she was gurgling softly now, still pink, her eyes tightly closed. He'd dressed her up nicely, or as nicely as he could muster. A cute pink newborn dress for his tiny baby and a matching pink hair bow.

He gathered the baby carrier in his arms and let the hospital doors open for him.

Finding your new ward wasn't hard. The nurses were helpful enough and honestly, he'd taken a look at the building blueprints weeks before, when he'd been obsessing over every small detail of your care, so he practically knew the route by himself.

Straight, then a left turn, then straight again, and a right turn and keep going until there was a final turn into your ward.

He let out a deep sigh as soon as he reached the nurses station and readied himself to ask for you.

“Hello, I'm here to see my Y/N, I was told she was transferred here this morning?”

The nurses on the station looked up at him in shock and blinked at him a few times before speaking up. If ever there was a time to hear the words “you haven't heard?” uttered from the mouth of a nurse in a hospital where your comatose girlfriend was being treated, then it likely wasn't when he held a newborn in his already weak arms.

The panic set in quickly as he tuned the noise out. An older nurse walked around the side of the desk to comfort him, sticking by his side and grabbing the baby carrier before he could accidentally let it go in his shock.

Another nurse came to his side to take care of the baby, and quickly, they both ushered him down another hall to an adjacent ward. He drowned out every word as they tried to comfort and reassure him, his brain jumping to the worst conclusions.

His teammates were right when they said he shouldn't hope. He needed to be realistic now. If you were gone, he had to call your family and organize the funeral. He had to pack up your stuff. He had to settle the hospital bills and decide how you would be seen off.

He had to name his daughter.

The nurses pushed him towards the room quickly, and he mentally prepared himself to say goodbye, but as the doors swung open, he saw you, and he fell to his knees.

“Spencer?”

In the two hours since you'd woken up, you'd been poked, prodded, hydrated, fed, rubbed down, and spoken over like you were still somewhat asleep.

No one had explained exactly what had happened, and no one explained where your baby was, and you'd kicked and screamed yourself hoarse, as the doctors noted down that you still had use of your vocal chords and all four limbs.

So seeing Spencer crash into your room at full force through your tear filled eyes was the best experience you'd had in months, especially when you spotted the nurse with the baby sized car seat coming in behind him.

“Is that my baby? Is that my baby? Please-” You pushed sheets off your body as a nurse tried to hold you still, not wanting you to pull the IV from your arm or the oxygen tubes from your face.

And suddenly Spencer was there, and he'd regained his strength, and his hope, and his happiness because you were awake, and talking and god you remembered.

It was all he could do not to grab you, bundle you up, and carry you away to safety, but the nurse propping you up was stern-looking, and he had a daughter to tend to.

He pulled your face into his hands and kissed you as softly as he could, holding back his emotion as he held you like you would break, feeling your wet tears on his skin.

“I missed you,” he whispered, dropping his forehead to yours as he gently stepped back and allowed the nurses to help you get comfortable.

Then he turned quickly and grabbed your daughter, and your breath caught in your throat as he held her out to you.

“What do I…? Where should I put my hands- Oh god, I'm so unprepared, I-” your eyes welled again, but it was joy as you saw her serene little sleeping face for the first time and he slowly lowered her into your arms. It turns out, no-one needed to help you out holding her at all, because she was so precious and perfect and yours that she slotted into your arms completely, like it was a spot made completely for her, like you'd been purpose made to hold her and be her mother and love her and cherish her.

You cried and looked up at Spencer and laughed. He rested on the side of the bed and pulled you into his arms, and you felt that completeness a second time, and you knew that you were made for him the way she was made for you.

Your family.

It had almost been taken for you, but it was yours, and it was fate.

With a quiet whisper that only Spencer could hear, you leant down to your baby's ear and said your first words to her.

“I wish that I could be your mother in every lifetime, my sweet Angel.”

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #reiderslibrary #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid x reader angst #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x you

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amomentsescape · 7 months

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Could I request slashers with a reader that has the mind of a crow. Collects bones, shiny trinkets and is oftenly mischievous.

+ Hannibal (series) I don't know wither he would spoil you or would collect trinkets in the woods from his previous victims.

Slashers with Crow-Like Reader

Slashers x Reader (Separate)

Includes: Freddy, Michael, Jason, Thomas, Bubba, Brahms, Norman, Billy, Stu, Vincent, Bo, Lester, & Hannibal

A/N: I wasn't sure how to title this, but I tried my best. Thank you for the request!

Freddy Krueger

Your collection is more so just interesting to him

Even as a notorious killer, he doesn't really see the need to keep "dust collectors" hanging around

So when he first sees all of the trinkets and random things you have, he just chuckles

"What are you gonna do with all this junk?" he jokes

This earns a stern glare from you, and this has him backing off on the teasing (just slightly)

It takes a little time for him to warm up to helping you find more things to collect

But the one time he did, you gave him such a huge smile that he realized this needed to be something he did more often

Anytime he goes on one of his dream "sprees," he always comes back with a new polished bone for you

(He cleans it himself)

If any of his victims were carrying something shiny, it also becomes yours by the next night

Keys, coins, jewelry, hair pins, etc. are all part of your collection very quickly

And although it took him a while to accept this hobby of yours, he has always loved your mischievous side

You've stolen his hat and glove numerous times now

He didn't even realize it in the moment

But your little pranks only fueled his desire to do the same to you

The amount of times you've found a little bone or finger in your cup has you rolling your eyes

But you've kept everything he's given you so far

Everything

Michael Myers

Michael very much does not care about your hobbies

Whatever you want to do for fun is your thing

As long as it isn't getting in his way or affecting his own hobbies, you can do what you want

All of the little items you have lining the shelves and hanging from the walls doesn't even phase him

You could have a human head on your nightstand, and Michael would just give you a nod of approval

Just don't leave anything out where it can be stepped on or knocked over

Michael isn't one to be "careful," so if one of your trinkets is on the floor, he will step on it and not feel any remorse

"It shouldn't have been there in the first place" is always his argument

And since he is neutral about your collection, he doesn't really think to bring anything back for you

Unless some shiny object literally rolls out in front of him where he can see it, he doesn't take anything

He won't do anything intentional to hurt your collection, but he also doesn't go out of his way to fuel it either

He also doesn't react to your mischievous ways

Your little pranks or jokes elicit zero reaction from him

You've practically given up on trying anything with Michael at this point because he just doesn't respond to your behavior

Just do NOT touch his knife

Jason Voorhees

Jason know literally nothing about decorating or collections

So having you around to put little items in the cabin is really nice for him!

He likes looking around every day to see what's new

He doesn't say this to you, but he finds the bones just a little weird

Has he seen his fair share of guts and gore?

Of course

But he's never really thought to keep any of those... parts

But to each their own he guesses

The moment he learns about your fondness for shiny objects, he is all about supporting it

Any victim of his is immediately searched to see if there's anything that you would like

He even likes to stroll around the woods at times and just look around for anything that shines

He loves to see how happy you get anytime he comes home with something for you

It always manages to make his day

Your little pranks and jokes towards him mostly just cause confusion

He's a bit sensitive to it at first to be honest

The only "pranks" he ever remembers were from when he was relentlessly bullied and picked on

So just be careful where you tread with this because those memories are still very difficult for him

But overall, he really loves your quirks and collections

Thomas Hewitt

Oh, you like to collect bones?

Well, does Thomas have a treat for you

You've been able to rebuild two full skeletons with everything he's given you so far

You actually had to tell him to slow down on how many bones he was giving you

But this overload in your collection honestly works out

He's used to having literal body parts as his decor around the house, so you just adding to that "aesthetic" makes him really happy

It just reinforces that you're part of the family

And when he learns that you also have a love for collecting shiny trinkets?

You better believe he's also going overboard with that too

If it shines, it's yours

Dozens of quarters, keys, belt buckles, earrings, and even cell phones are given to you

Even if the object doesn't really shine, he'll pick it up

Once again, you have to explain that you didn't need ALL of these things

Your mischievous personality is also something he doesn't mind fueling from time to time

If you prank him, he'll get you back

You've hidden his favorite knife and apron before

But once he found them, he was all smiles

He thinks your jokes keep his life exciting, and that only makes him love it more

Bubba Sawyer

Of course, Bubba also fuels your bone collection

He's a bit messy about it though, handing you a bucket of bloody and poorly picked bones, but the sentiment is there

He's also found some creativity with it!

Recently, Bubba has found an interest in jewelry making

Anytime he can, he collects the teeth from his victims and makes you a necklace and bracelet set to have

He gets especially giddy when you try them on for him

It's like hanging up a child's artwork on the fridge

He just feels so proud of himself for making you happy

He also loves to find shiny trinkets for you too

Bubba is easily distracted by light, so it's pretty easy for him to pinpoint different items that he knows you'll like

He sometimes gets a little down on himself if he accidentally gets you something you already have though

He's also a bit sensitive to your mischievous nature

Jumping out and scaring him sends him into an erratic frenzy at first

But when he learns that these are all "pranks" that you enjoy, he warms up to the idea more

He'll try to scare you multiple times a day after that

It quickly becomes very predictable, but you still fake a reaction sometimes since Bubba gets upset if his attempt goes unsuccessful

Brahms Heelshire

As much as he still feels anger towards his parents, he can't help but still care about the upkeep of the home

He wouldn't really care about your hobby in any other situation

But this is his home, and he doesn't think dead animal bones and random trinkets look good scattered all about

If you keep your collection to yourself, then he doesn't really mind

He may raise the occasional brow at you, but he doesn't say much for the most part

Just don't set anything in his parent's room or certain areas of the house

He will throw your items away despite any protest

He doesn't do much in the way of adding to your collection either

He doesn't leave the house and hardly anyone ever comes by

Plus, he doesn't really like the bones you have and would prefer not to add to it

However, there is the small occasion that he finds a shiny nickel under the couch or a missing earring hidden in the corner of the room

He doesn't mind you having these items and will gladly hand them over if it means seeing you happy

In the way of mischievous behavior, he doesn't really care as long as you stick to the rules list 100%

In fact, he finds some of your pranks and decisions pretty entertaining

They give him an excuse to get back at you too...

Norman Bates

He won't lie; the bones freak him out a bit

As long as you explain that you aren't actively killing things to obtain them, he's mostly fine

He has his own interest in taxidermy anyways

But he would rather keep the animal looking like an animal and not the skeleton of one

But as long as you keep them to yourself, he doesn't care

He just doesn't want to see them scattered about the home and motel

He also doesn't fully understand your fascination with anything shiny

He thinks it's cute, the way your eyes light up the moment something catches your attention

But he doesn't really see the charm unless it's actually worth something

But of course, he cares about your happiness a lot

So even seeing an empty gum wrapper on the table forces him to pocket it so he can gift it to you later

Nothing really beats the excitement you show whenever you get something new

With that being said, he isn't really a fan of some of your behavior

Every item has it's place, so he becomes frustrated whenever you move anything

Spying on him or even scaring him just leaves him on edge and antsy

He much prefers a relaxed and quiet environment, that's for sure

Billy Loomis

You collect what now?

When you show him, his reaction goes from utter confusion to slight interest

Considering what he does in his free time, he kind of appreciates your morbid hobbies

When he sees that all of your bones are from little animals, he gets a dark smile on his face

"Wouldn't you rather have the real deal?"

Comes home the next night with a literal FEMUR

You have no idea how he managed it, especially since he isn't one for getting messier than necessary

But the happy look on his face was enough to make you not question anything

And of course, any future killings always involves him coming home with some type of bone or shiny object for you

He just shrugs it off like it's no big deal, but he honestly enjoys seeing you so appreciative

With that being said, some of your schemes can make him irritable at times

He thinks a lot of your pranks are childish, and he's often comparing you to Stu

"Did he teach you that one?" he rolls his eyes

He never really thought he'd be with someone as quirky as you, but he has learned to appreciate it

It makes him feel better about his own morbid interests too

Stu Macher

He stated that your collections were "sick"

In the good way

The first time he saw all the little bones you had, he tried to fit them together in order to build some new hybrid animal

Asks you a ton of questions about everything

"What was this one from?" "Where did you find this?"

He's like a little kid learning a new subject in school

He also has a similar affinity to shiny objects like you

He has a little spot on his desk made up of old coins and random paperclips he just picked up for no reason

He often gets bored when he's out, so anything that glimmers his way must be a sign that he needs to take it

But since learning of your interests, he quickly begins sharing this habit with you

Any shiny object he comes across is picked up

Even if he's not that interested in it, there's still a chance that you might like it

He may or may not have shoplifted a few times purely on accident

His mind just doesn't think those things through sometimes

And when you begin revealing your mischievous ways towards him, you better believe he's going to get back at you tenfold

It's like a constant battle between you two with bad behavior

And you have yet to find a victor

Billy has yelled at both of you numerous times when he somehow gets dragged into the behavior

You and Stu just laugh together every time

Vincent Sinclair

As a fellow person with odd collections, he respects it

He also really loves that you two have something like that in common; it makes him feel "normal"

He has anything from rocks to wax figures to little pieces of jewelry

Since he hasn't had social contact with the outside world, these collections were his friends

The bones you have are a little odd to him, but he's not one to judge at all

He unfortunately doesn't add to your collection with human bones, but he happily supplies little animal bones he finds inside all of the desolate buildings

If there's any jewelry or shiny object on one of his victims, he'll take them and give them to you later since he knows how happy they make you

Vincent is easily influenced and will likely start to pick up on your behaviors as well

Will also begin to collect shiny trinkets so that you two can share and compare

He may also start to become fascinated with little bones and how they would fit back together

With that being said, he doesn't quite pick up on your pranks and funny behavior

He happily stands back and watches though

The amount of times you've jumped out at Bo and caused him to go into a cursing fit has Vincent silently laughing in the corner

He may not always have the guts to stand up to his brothers, but it's nice that you're willing to do so for him

Bo Sinclair

He's definitely communicated his odd feelings about your interests

"Now, why would you wanna do somethin' silly like that?"

With that being said, he doesn't tell you to stop doing anything, he just thinks it's weird

Has compared you to Vincent multiple times in the past

He sort of turns his nose up to your bone collection

He won't even touch it

He says he just thinks it's gross, but in reality, it kind of freaks him out a bit (not that he'd ever admit it)

The shiny trinkets you have though are a little more "normal" in his eyes

Whenever he sees something that shines now, he always lets out a big sigh and picks it up for you begrudgingly

Says you have him "trained"

But in reality, he does love to make you happy

He just doesn't love the little pranks you pull on him

Scaring him, following him around, tackling him in the middle of night are all things he's forced himself to grow accustomed to

He still goes into a pouty fit and tells you to "knock it off"

But his threats only go so far

He soon figures that if he can't get out of the game, he might as well beat you to the win

So be sure to watch your back

He has plans on getting you tenfold

Lester Sinclair

You collect bones...?

Well, good! Because so does Lester

He's always had a knack for picking up any random scraps he thought were interesting

Bo has made fun of him plenty of times for it

But that seemed to die down now that he has you

You've both sat with each other and your collections, swapping random trinkets and talking about where some of them came from

All the while, there's the biggest smile on Lester's face

He's definitely one to give, so he always manages to find a couple items every day to take home to you

But if he finds something especially cool, you may have to "fight" him on it

(The battle never lasts long since all you have to do is give him a big kiss and he gives in)

He truly believes that having you around makes his life so much more fun too

The little games you like to play, and the way you always keep him on his toes really brings him a lot of joy

In a place like Ambrose, there isn't much for change or oddity

So meeting you was truly a blessing in all accounts

Hannibal Lecter

When you first shared your collection and true colors with him, he just responded with a quirk of the brow

Sure, he could give you a bunch of science-y answers on why you do this blah blah blah

But he knows that wouldn't change anything

Besides, he honestly likes your quirkiness

He may look suave and put together on the outside, but he also has some darker and more intriguing interests on the inside

He always manages to surprise you with a new animal bone you have yet to obtain or some shiny object that you have not seen before

You have no idea how he does it, but he never fails to amaze you

Of course, he doesn't share with you how he actually gets these trinkets, but you don't pry

You're just really happy to have someone who encourages your interests rather than shut them down

With that being said, he's a bit of a stinker when it comes to your mischievous side

He knows your intentions almost better than you do

You can't get a single thing past him without him knowing

Because of this, you haven't been able to surprise him with anything

It's a bit annoying

But what he doesn't give you in fun, he makes up for in gifts and spoiling you

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hp-hcs · 5 months

Text

• smut • aurora boy-realis (stop talking) — soft! tom riddle x gn! artist! reader

warnings: SMUT MDNI, no assigned sex-specific identifiers or anatomical terms, short and not really detailed smut but wtv, hella ooc tom for my delulu readers, like i cannot stress this enough he is ooc, i took canon and just chucked it into the garbage okay

i have had this sitting in my drafts, finished and ready to publish, for the last week now bc the imposter syndrome lowkey convinced me that i’m a terrible writer so anywhore enjoy this train wreck

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Don’t move.”

Tom froze.

Your charcoal stick moved in broad strokes against the page, your eyes darting between Tom and your sketchbook.

“…Can I move yet?”

“No. Stop talking.”

You were probably the only person who could actually get away with telling Tom Riddle to shut up.

(He’d never admit it, but that boy knew damn well that he was whipped.)

~~~

Your charcoal-stained hands left dusty black marks on Tom’s skin.

His chest heaved under you. “Damn tease.”

“Stop talking.” Your eyebrows furrowed in concentration, a spare pencil held between your teeth as you used his torso as a makeshift table for your sketchbook.

He wiggled impatiently as his fingers tightened on your hips. “Baby, please–”

You grunted, taking in a shaky breath as you tried to collect yourself from his sudden movement.

He grinned slyly at your reaction, jerking his hips up experimentally. His cock pressed in deeper.

You bit your bottom lip hard enough to bleed as you desperately tried to stifle your moans and keep yourself steady. “You’re an ass.”

“Maybe.” Tom gently pulled your sketchbook and pencil from your fingers, leaning over to carefully set them on the nightstand. “But you don’t really mind, do you, love?”

You grumble at the loss of your art supplies, pouting down at him. “Sometimes.”

He cupped the back of your head, gently rolling the pair of you over so that he was on top. “I’ll make it up to you.”

~~~

“Tom!”

“That’s it, there you go, honey. So good for me,” the boy in question murmured against the skin of your neck as his fingers slipped down to help you out.

His thrusts were slow and deep, driving you absolutely crazy. You couldn’t help but cup his face in your hands, stroking his cheekbones with your thumbs in utter devotion.

“Oh, Tom—”

“I’m here, darling. Let go.”

You came with another cry of his name.

~~~

Your paintbrush ran over the thin, raised pink lines that traveled across Tom’s back and shoulders—caused by your own fingernails just last night—and covered them with a thick coat of purple.

You were in your element here, circling around your boyfriend and chewing on your bottom lip as you worked on your masterpiece. You paused in front of him to survey your chef-d’oeuvre, smudging the lines of green and white that ran along his ribs and up between his pecs with your thumb a bit more until you were satisfied.

Tom stood shirtless in front of you, his entire torso—from the top of his neck all the way down to the waistband of his trousers—covered in a beautiful artistic rendition of the Aurora Borealis flickering across a starry sky.

You picked up your enchanted camera, lining up the shot before snapping a magical moving photograph of your boyfriend patiently allowing himself to be used as a canvas.

You set the camera back down, screwing on the lids of your paint jars and humming cheerily.

“Right. Well, you can go wash up now. Thank you, love.” You kissed his cheek, unperturbed.

Tom was baffled. Wash off this masterpiece? Destroy it like it was nothing?

“At least join me?” he asked with that damn pout of his that could make you melt on the spot.

Tom could always do that. He was your sun, your moon, and your stars; you’d gladly move the heavens just to see him smile.

(Plus, showers with Tom always ended in sex. Win-win.)

~~~

Blues and purples swirled in the water that pooled at your feet.

Pinks and greens stained your hips, your thighs, your throat.

Tom’s lips were pressed firmly against yours, moving slowly as the steady flow of water pouring down on the pair of you slowly grew cold. Tom pulled back solely so that he could look at you, taking you in.

Tom looked at you as if you were his sun, the very thing his entire world revolved around.

Like a deity, deserving of the entire galaxy’s devotion.

So, without another thought, Tom did what any sane mortal man would. He dropped down to his knees and began to pray.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

comments are always appreciated!!

#harry potter #hp #fuck jkr #x reader #hp x gn reader #hp x male reader #x male reader #slytherin boys #slytherin boys smut #tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x male reader #tom riddle smut

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lordcrumps · 8 months

Text

4T2 Hood Tree Defaults!

UPDATED TO HAVE SMALLER TEXURE SIZES

Sul Sul!

Today I have a default replacement bundle for you, this replaces majority of the trees in the hood menu. Fully seasonal, placeable anywhere!

For reference, this set does have more polys than the Linden tree set, incase you wonder about that! I do love the linden trees, its just they dont match my 4T2 game anymore!

It does not replace the firs from later EPs, they will come at another date - see pictures for reference.

They are designed to go with the Flora Default Replacement by Tvickiesims!

Included is 3 versions of the Red Bud Tree, one of them does require Better Nightlife if you choose that version. They are in a seperate folder and clearly labelled.

There is a package file named "LC_LotTreesPlaceableEverywhere" what this does it allows those trees that are replaced by the flora replacement by Vickie to be placed anywhere now. I am aware there are things out there that do the same thing, but I do not have them and I needed them to be free! All trees in this set are unlocked to be placeable everywhere.

This will obviously conflict with any default you have that replaces any of the hood trees, so please bare that in mind!

Thanks to @tvickiesims for helping me with the fall colours; I would of just made them all red otherwise!

ENJOY!

DOWNLOAD ALT

#4t2 #lordcrumpscc #thesims2 #sims2cc #4t2 conversion #4t2 cc #default replacement #defaults #hood #trees

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moonstruckme · 1 year

Note

Ok James but him and his slytherin girlfriend seem to come out of nowhere and the boys are supportive but are more mad at James for not telling them? Idk I loved your other fic SO MUCH

Thanks for requesting <3

part 1

cw: mention of injury, no details or anything though

James Potter x Slytherin!reader ♡ 1.5k words

You hesitate outside the doorway to the infirmary at the raised voices coming from inside.

You don’t need to be here, strictly speaking. James told you his injury wasn’t bad, and he has his friends to help him if he needs it, but…you can’t settle yourself down. You hadn’t liked the way he’d limped off the field, nor the tiny grimace on his face when Sirius had wrapped a bracing arm under his shoulders. It would be just like James to downplay how hurt he is to make you feel better, and the longer the game had gone on without him the more your guts twisted themselves into knots over the idea that he was in pain.

You’d seethed at yourself and your stupid soft heart all the way to the infirmary, where now you’re frozen just outside like a coward. Something inside you is coiled tight with tension at the idea of going to see James Potter, on purpose and in public, even though that’s dumb because now everyone at Hogwarts knows about the two of you anyway. Your sappy display on the quidditch pitch made sure of that. But now that you have official and widely-known claim to the girlfriend title, you have just as much right to see him as anyone else. You shove your anxiety back into your stomach where it belongs and open the door.

As soon as you’re inside, the voices become clearer. “—like this isn’t a big deal. The Prophet’s going to be all over the two of you by tomorrow, and we had to find out with every other fucking bloke at the school!”

“Pads, you don’t think I would have told you if I could?” James sounds exhausted, and something mutinous throbs in your heart. It’s followed quickly by the more familiar twinge of irritation at the use of those moronic nicknames they all have. “She made me promise not to tell anyone, including the both of you.”

They’re talking about you. Of course they’re talking about you. What else could possibly be more important after James has fallen a good twenty feet off his broom than his dating life? This is why you hadn’t wanted to tell people. Hogwarts wears away at private lives like dementors at souls, and the rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin is too strong for your relationship with James to have any hope of remaining untainted once the gossip mill got ahold of it.

Your instincts are screaming at you to turn around and leave before they catch sight of you, but you force yourself to keep walking. If you start letting what people think about you and James affect you now, you’ll never be able to get past it.

Remus is the first to spot you, going still as if you’ve come to hex him, but James’ face splits into a lopsided grin that has the knots in your gut loosening very slightly.

“Especially you,” you say to Sirius as you brush past him, perching by James' pillow and weaving your fingers into his curls. There’s a wrap around his middle. It’s very hard to appear calm and blasé when you feel like you’re going to rupture something if he doesn't promise you he’s okay right this instant. “You’d have had all of Gryffindor talking about us within an hour.”

Sirius bristles but visibly shoves his temper aside, his voice matching your coolness as he says, “If I’d told anyone, Y/L/N, it would have been to inquire about whether anyone’s noticed you gathering ingredients for amortentia recently. James doesn’t keep things from us. Artificial infatuation is the only explanation for why he’d tolerate you and your secrets.”

“Oi,” James says, but you pat his head placatingly. You can fight your own battles.

“That how you got this one?” you jut your chin towards Remus, who’s looking somewhat entertained as he watches the two of you spar. “If I’m ever in need of the recipe, Black, you’ll be the first person I come to, but I don’t need to resort to such measures myself.”

Sirius glowers at you, and James sets his hand on your shoulder just as Remus wraps a pacifying arm around his boyfriend. “Alright, I think that’s enough,” the taller boy says in his usual calm manner, and though Sirius is still tensed for a fight, he allows himself to be drawn into Remus’ side.

James nods in agreement. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys, really. I thought I’d get a chance to before everyone found out, but…” He turns up his palms helplessly. “Things didn’t go as planned.”

“We’ll get over it,” Remus says, Sirius quietly fuming beside him. “Won’t we, love?”

Sirius looks up at Remus' face, which is clearly a mistake, because he softens like butter in the sun. “Yeah, yeah, just gimme a bit,” he grumbles halfheartedly. “Anything to keep our Prongsie happy, right?”

James beams, so clearly relieved at the settlement of the conflict that you feel a bit guilty for participating in it. He kisses you on the cheek, chuckling against your skin. “You stink.”

“Some of us stuck around to play the whole game,” you reply.

“Ouch,” James says, but he’s grinning. “Couldn’t really help that, could I?”

You give him a look to let him know you haven’t forgotten how his negligence had gotten him hurt. “Debatable.”

You hear Remus chuckle but don’t take your eyes off James’ face, inspecting it for signs of the pain you suspect he’s hiding. “How bad is it really?” you ask, softening your voice even though there’s no chance of his friends not hearing you.

James worries his lip, big brown eyes looking into yours guiltily. “Pomphrey says I broke three ribs and bruised my tailbone pretty badly. Minor concussion, too, but nothing serious.”

Sounds serious enough to you. You ghost a hand over the back of his head as if you’ll be able to find and fix his hurt. He leans into your palm though, so it’s not for nothing. “I’m sorry I walked away out there,” you all but whisper. “I should have stayed with you.”

James eyebrows pinch together. “Hey, sweetheart, it’s okay,” he promises just as softly. He knows what it costs you to talk like this in front of people, like you’re turning yourself inside out for them to judge and stab at as they please, but James has no such reservations. He dots a kiss, feather-light, at the top of your cheekbone, wrapping an arm around you protectively. “Thanks for coming, I mean it.”

You clear your throat. “Yeah, and in my fucking quidditch gear,” you say in your normal voice, attempting to banish the heavy mood. As if your heart isn’t still beating, hummingbird-fast and fragile, in your throat. “We both need to change and shower, and then you should rest. Did Pomphrey say you could leave?”

James nods, still looking at you like you’ve cracked open in his hands (he might be right; it feels like you have, and it wouldn’t even be the first time today). He rubs your upper arm affectionately, but his voice is easygoing when he says, “Yup, I’m good to go.”

Sirius steps forward, as though to remind the two of you that he is, in fact, also present. “Great. We’ll walk you back to the room.”

You turn to him, not quite ready for your time with James to be up and aching for the opportunity to dote on him in private. “That’s okay, I can take him.”

Sirius’ eyes narrow. “You can’t even get into our dorms.”

“Please, like Gryffindor’s riddles are so perplexing.”

“I don’t need an escort,” James interjects. He pushes himself up with a grimace.

You halt him with your hands on his shoulders and Remus says, “Don’t be stupid, Prongs, you can barely walk.”

“I’ve got him,” you say firmly. Sirius stares you down, but you don’t flinch from his stony gaze. You know he doesn’t trust you. You don’t think he’d willingly trust any Slytherin. Since you’ve been at Hogwarts, the talk in your house has always been that Sirius Black shuns his family because they’re all Slytherins. Although James assures you there’s more to the story than that, it’s still obvious to anyone that he considers his friends his true family. He won’t entrust just anyone with James’ safety. But maybe that’s one thing you can agree upon.

He must see something of this in your face, because after a minute Sirius relents, rolling his eyes. “Fine,” he says. “I wanted to stop by the kitchens anyway.”

James is looking between the two of you curiously, aware that something has transpired but not quite sure what.

You don’t give Sirius a chance to change his mind. “Alright,” you say, gripping James' forearms and helping him to stand. “Let’s go, pretty boy.”

James drapes his arm across your shoulders gamely, and the two of you start out the door. “I don’t think that’s the insult you think it is.”

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haikyu-mp4 · 5 months

Text

Nice to look at

word count; 727 – f!reader, use of princess, suggestive

“I’m tired of this,” you announced to no one in particular and stomped your way over to Matsukawa Issei. He sat on top of a desk, one foot resting on the side of the chair where Hanamaki sat and talked to whoever sat behind him. With every step, you lost some of your previously gained confidence until you were standing right in front of him with your arms crossed and an unconvinced frown on your face as you asked him “Can I help you?”

“Depends, what are your services?”

If this was a cartoon, steam would be blowing from your ears. He was always like this with you, seeming to love riling you up. Luckily, you were annoyed enough to not get too flustered by it, but that didn’t help the smirk on his face. “Why are you always glaring at me?”

He barely raised an eyebrow at the accusation. “I’m not glaring at you.”

“Really? Because it sure feels like it-“

“I’m not glaring,” Mattsun said. Makki scoffed from beside you even though he was pretending to mind his own business.

“I heard you the firs-” you tried to say, but he interrupted you again.

“I’m staring.” You took in a sharp breath, suddenly very aware of both his friends and yours looking at you two.

“…why?”

He glanced at his friends, giving them a stern look as if telling them to mind their own business. Then he looked back at you. “Because I think you’re nice to look at.”

“Oh.” This time Mattsun fully raised an eyebrow, which made you feel smaller under his gaze. He got off the desk so he ended up standing much closer, looking down at you with those lazy eyes. “Thank you,” you mumbled.

“You’re welcome, princess.”

“Take a picture next time, yeah? Might last longer,” you said, as if that would have been so much better. Usually, this kind of behaviour from men disgusted you, but with Matsukawa? It was different… and he knew you liked it. He leaned closer, making sure no one else would hear his next words.

“The kind of pictures I’d like to take of you can't be taken in public,” he answered, and you could swear your knees weren’t this weak before. His eyes stared into yours and you stared back for a moment to try and catch your breath. Is it hot in here?

“Pervert,” you whispered. After that, you walked back to your friends with Mattsun staring at your back until he huffed and went back to the conversation he had with his friends. You were a bit stubborn, he liked that.

When classes ended for the day you were passing by his desk on your way to the door when he grabbed your arm, making you spin around to face him. You squinted at him suspiciously, shaking his arm off but still staying to hear him out. He leaned down beside your face and tilted his mouth towards your ear, which made his breath run over your neck.

“Does this mean I can take you out?” he asked, and you bit the inside of your lip as a chill ran down your spine. You looked around as if it was an intimate, more private moment that your classmates shouldn’t see, cheeks flaring pink.

“At no point in that conversation did I ever imply th-” you tried to answer, but he was so very fond of interrupting you today. He leaned back to look at you, and then his tongue ran over his lips like he was hungry. Your eyes shamefully followed it.

“You like coffee? Tea? I know a nice cat cafe.” he asked casually as if the foulest thoughts weren’t running through his mind when he looked at you. You simply had to break eye contact when your mind actually started telling you to give in. Let him treat you to something, what is there to lose?

“After your practice, come get me in the library,” you said like it was an order, still not meeting his eyes as you pulled your shoulders back and walked off. Your friends were staying at school to finish some homework anyway, might as well wait for him.

“See you, princess.” Mattsun’s eyes followed you out of the classroom, but this time the feeling of his eyes on your back made you feel powerful.

masterlist

/this was originally for Suna but then I was like wAit

#haikyu #haikyu x reader #haikyuu #hq x reader #fanfiction #haikyuu x reader #hq #haikyuu x you #mattsun x reader #matsukawa issei #matsukawa x reader #seijoh #aoba johsai #seijoh 4

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lesservillain · 8 months

Text

older!alpha!steve harrington x younger!omega!reader

cw: SMUT, omegaverse dynamics, unprotected piv, modern setting, steve is a divorcee and single dad, steve is in his early 40s and reader is in their mid to late 20s an: this is just a self indulgent lil one shot bc i love older men ugh

“She was totally checking you out, by the way.”

Steve pushes the frame of his glasses up the bridge of his nose, his attempt to hide the pink that dusts over his cheeks at Robin’s comment.

“What? No she wasn’t. Don’t do this today.”

The plastic of the menu bends in Steve’s grip by Robin’s ringed fingers. He tries to focus on the suns glare hitting the laminated paper rather than his best friend’s knowing gaze. He hates that she does this to him.

It wasn’t their first time at this diner, nor was it their first time being waited on by you. What started as Robin’s attempt to get her depressed best friend out of the house after a quick but painful divorce has turned into a regular bi-weekly Sunday outing for the pair. And thanks to Robin’s commitment to a bit, she makes sure to arrive before Steve every time to sit in your section, all because she caught Steve checking you out one time.

“Why don’t you believe me that she likes you?”

“Robin—”

“Steve.” The tired battle of lifting Steve’s confidence was one that Robin refused to lose. “How many times do I have to tell you that you still got it? A little gray hair and a dorky mustache is, like, the new six pack abs for girls in their 20s.”

“Oh, god, do I need to have Hailey touch up my hair already?” Steve’s hands fly to cover the sides of his hair where his grays tended to show the most. The sudden movement sent his menu flying down to land on the floor next to him.

“Shit—”

“Here you go—”

Skin meets skin when you went to grab the flimsy plastic at the same time as Steve. A shock wave runs from Steve’s finger through the rest of his body, leaving goosebumps in their wake. His hazel eyes jump up to meet yours, and he can feel the breath from your gasp on his cheek. You shoot up, frozen in place as you look down at him. The tension is palpable between you.

Suddenly, you bolt, leaving Steve still leaning over his seat as he watches you take off out of sight.

“What was that about?” The tone in Robin’s voice had Steve sitting up straight, annoyance clear in his expression.

“What was what, Robin?”

“Um, are we just going to ignore that pheromone drop you just did?”

Steve shifts in his seat, eyes wide as he looks around the diner. A few heads were turned to him, mostly older alpha’s with death glares as their marked omega’s sit blissfully unaware across from them. “Sorry.” He says in a hushed apology, shrinking back into his booth seat.

“Well, at least we have confirmation your girlfriend is an omega,” Robin says over a sip of her coffee. Steve’s ears perk up, but he does his best not to show his interest in the topic of you.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Steve says with a roll of his eyes. “I honestly probably just scared the shit out of her. Did you see how fast she ran off?”

“I’m sure you were watching.” Steve’s head falls back with a scoff, making Robin giggle at his embarrassment. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I’ll stop now.”

“Thank you.”

“Are we ready to order?”

Robin and Steve turn to the waitress at the end of the table, immediately noticing she’s not you. They give the girl their order, and Steve can’t help but feel some type of way about how you would have just asked them if they wanted their regulars. With a heavy sigh Steve stares at the table’s vintage pattern until Robin calls his name. Her expression is soft, knowing in a way that is both relieving and disheartening.

“Maybe she’s on a break?”

“She hates me.”

“She does not hate you.”

“Yes she does. I’m a grown man who couldn’t control his pheromones all because a pretty girl touched his hand? We should probably just leave.”

Robin grabs Steve’s arm with a laugh as he attempts to make an escape from their booth. “Steve, it’s fine. I doubt you’re the first person that’s done that to her. Just relax.”

Steve sighs and nods. “Okay, okay. I’m good now.”

SPACE

“So you’re good to pick up the girls from practice this week, right? I’m hoping that this project will be wrapped up by Thursday--”

“Of course, Steven,” Robin says as she opens her car door. “You think I’d ever turn down the chance to spend time with one of my favorite nieces?”

“I just want to make sure. I don’t want to give Becca any ammunition against me, you know.” Steve’s hands flex, thinking back to the argument him and his now ex wife had those months back.

Robin opens her mouth, but decides against whatever she had to say, simply nodding instead. “I’ll see you later, Steve.”

Steve nods back, watching as Robin gets in her car and drives away. He leans back to see her car disappear down the road before swinging his own door open and leaning inside. Reaching into his center console, he pulls out a pack of smokes and a lighter, bringing the butt to his lips and flicking the lighter. The flame refuses to stay, however, the clicking grating his ears with every failed attempt causing him to curse.

“Need a light?”

Steve spins around, bewildered, large hazel eyes like saucers when they land on you. A bright pink lighter sits between your fingers, and with a flick the flame emerges, waiting for him to lean in. He puffs until the heat hit his throat, pulling back to take in a deep drag, letting the smoke blow upward above him.

When he looks back down at you, you’ve barely moved. Eyes lidded slightly and lips parted just so, almost like you were mesmerized by him. It makes Steve chuckle out of nervousness, not used to being ogled at his “big age” as his daughters would say.

“Thank you,” he says with a smile that seems to bring you back to this planet, eyes blinking rapidly before you pull out your own pack of cigarettes.

“Yeah, of course.” Your eyes flicker up to him for a moment before giving yourself a light.

“You’re too pretty to be smoking,” Steve says passively, smoke billowing out between his own lips.

You look up at him through your lashes. For a brief moment you look annoyed at his comment and Steve is sure he fucked up again. The words of his oldest going on about how men shouldn’t comment on what women do rings in his ears and he wants to slap himself.

“Well, I could say the same for you.” There’s a teasing lit in your words, but the cute shuffle and bounce combo that you do gives Steve butterflies as it fuels his delusions.

Channeling his former self, his mind shifts into King Steve mode after 20 years of retirement. He takes a step into your space and internally celebrates when you don’t move away. “Awe, you think I’m pretty?” The tone of his voice surprises him, coming out more sensual than he intended. But your reaction tells him that he must be doing something right.

“You’re definitely nice to look at.” Your words come out even but breathy. Was he really having this effect on you? Maybe Robin wasn’t wrong about him still having it in him.

“Oh, so you like to look at me?”

“Only for about an hour every other Sunday.”

Steve sucks in a breath. The way you’re looking at him right now is making him have thoughts that aren’t appropriate for the very public parking lot of your workplace. But he can’t get over the fact that you’ve been looking at him of all people.

“Is-is that so?”

“Mhm,” you hum, taking a drag of your cigarette and blowing it out. “Would be nice to look at you for an hour from a different angle sometime.”

Steve coughs on his hit, completely thrown off by your forwardness. But you don’t seem to be deterred, rather you close the gap between the two of you, chests touching as you look up into his eyes.

Lips move in a feverish kiss as Steve pins you against his front door, keys fumbling in his hand as he attempts to unlock it while keeping the two of you connected. You giggle against his neck when he pulls away, leaving a few kisses against his skin as he finally gets the door open. His hands fly to your hips, walking you backwards into his home where his lips crash into yours once again.

“Nice place,” you say as he moves to leave heated kisses against your neck.

“Thanks,” he says between nips on your skin. A low groan pulls from his chest when he feels your hand slide down to palm at his crotch. A smirk forms on his lips at the little gasp you let out when you feel his size, and he bucks his hips into your hand playfully.

In one swift motion he lifts you up and over his shoulder, delighted by your laughter filled squealing as he carries you to his bedroom. Kicking the door open with a gentle shove, he walks you over to his king size bed and plops you down on the comforter. The huge smile and wild look in your eyes spurs him on, all the blood in his body rushing to his dick when you reach your arms out for him.

Steve pulls off his shirt with haste, and your eyes fix on the healthy patch of hair that covers his chest that tapers down his stomach to where it disappears into his jeans. He feels a little self conscious under your gaze, but the way your tongue darts out of your mouth, licking across your bottom lip has him climbing over top of you to chase it with his own.

Hands move between your bodies and clothes go flying until the two of you are fully exposed to each other. Steve’s hard, leaking cock presses into your thigh, laying heavy against your already hot flesh. Your fingers run through his soft locks as his mouth attaches to your breast, nipping and biting until his mouth reaches your hardened nipple.

While his mouth pays your sensitive chest attention, his large hands have wandered down between your legs and began running his fingers through your folds. His fingers skim over your clit with each stroke, sending little jolts through your body.

“God, you’re so wet,” he breathes out, his blown out pupils meeting yours.

“Just for you,” you say with a smirk, one that turns into an open mouth moan when he finally plunges a finger into your waiting cunt.

There’s no mercy as his fingers move inside of you just right, hitting that spot with a curled finger over and over. Your hands grip his shoulders, instinctively trying to push him away but he doesn’t relent. He just watches the way your face contorts as another thick finger joins in stretching you out for him.

“So beautiful.” Steve doesn’t even realize he’s said it out loud, but he can’t think of another word to describe the way you look under him. “Doing so good for me, honey.”

His praises send you over the edge and you cum hard on his fingers. The way you squeeze his fingers mixed with the smell of your pheromones releasing has Steve’s cock twitching in anticipation. When you come down from your high, your arms instinctively wrap around his neck and pull him in for sloppy, appreciative kisses.

“Mmm, gonna need you to fuck me now, big boy,” you say into his ear, tongue licking at his lobe in a way that makes his hair stand up on the back of his neck. Your soft hand slides down between the two of you to grab his cock and pump it a few times in your hand. “Do you have any condoms?”

Steve freezes above you.

“Um, well no…” he stutters. “Me—uh, my wife— ex wife—,” he looks at you directly with his clarification, “she had her tubes tied so we, um, we never used them so I don’t have—”

You put a finger over Steve’s lips, hushing his babbling immediately.

“It’s okay,” you say with a sympathetic look, “I understand. We can stop…or.”

“Or?” Steve asks.

“Or, if you don’t care…then I don’t care? Just pull out?”

Steve felt like he was going to bust in your hand as it worked his aching cock. Deep down he knew it was irresponsible. But the way you were making him feel was lowering his inhibitions. And when was the last time he’d ever been reckless?

“O-okay,” he swallows dryly, “I’m okay with that. But, um, I do want to be transparent with you.” Your head tilts to the side waiting for his response. God, could you be any cuter? “I, um, I haven’t been with an omega in, like, 20 years. So, I just—just know I’m not sure how long I’m going to last, you know…”

“Your wife—”

“Ex wife—”

“Ex wife, she wasn’t an omega?”

Steve shakes his head. He’d never been one to care about second gender dynamics. Sure, there were elements to their alpha x beta relationship that didn’t fulfill him like an omega would, but he loved Becca all the same during their relationship.

You go quiet for a moment, and Steve is sure he’s completely ruined the moment between the two of you. He’s mentally preparing himself to take you back to your car, but you suddenly move beneath him in a way that flips him on his back. He watches as you straddle his lap, your dripping cunt hovering just above his cock where you still have your hand wrapped around it.

“You poor thing,” you say with faux perturbance, lowering down far enough that you can rub yourself against his length. “Gone all these years with no omega to make you feel good?” Steve nods dumbly, completely entranced by the dynamic shift between you. “Do you want me to fix that for you? Wanna fill me up with your alpha cock?”

“Yes—yes, please.” His voice comes out a pathetic, whiny plea as his glassy eyes stay laser focused on yours.

Without warning you sink down onto his cock, both of you moaning out at the sudden connection. Even with him stretching you out on his fingers and the amount of slick your body produced, your tight cunt still squeezes Steve like a vice as you take each inch of him like a champ. You move up and down, working yourself open on him and Steve can barely stand it, wanting to grab your hips and move you himself. But Steve breaths through it, nostrils flared, until you’re seated completely against him, his cock buried to the hilt inside of you.

“Hooooly shit,” he breathes out. Steve needs a second to keep himself from cumming too soon, but it’s a second that you don’t spare him as you begin to bounce on his cock. Leaning over him, your hands rest against his chest, giving him the perfect view of your tits as they bounce in his face.

“Fuck, you’re so big,” you moan out, brows pinching as the head of his cock reaches deep inside of you. “Even for an alpha, you’re s-so fucking big.”

Steve finally lets his hands grip on your hips, but instead of moving you how he wants, he fights against you to still your movements.

A pout forms on your lips as you look down at him, and Steve wants nothing more than to shove his cock in your mouth to get rid of it. But, you feel too good wrapped around him so he takes his thumb and pushes it past your lips instead. Immediately you begin to suck and mouth on it, slowly grinding your hips against him to get any bit of friction between you.

When he pulls his thumb from your mouth, it lands on your clit to rub slow circles into it. You whine at the stimulation, trying to buck your hips faster in order to chase your high.

Loosening his grip, he lets you move against him again. Steve watches in awe at the way you come undone above him, picking up the pace on his thumb as you move with little rhyme or reason. He feels your body stiffen, jaw dropping with a silent scream as your cum all over his cock, your slick coating his balls and dripping down onto the bed sheets underneath you.

Steve is generous enough to give you a second to come down before he’s pulling you off of him and back onto the bed. He watches the way your chest rises and falls as you catch your breath, the far off look in your eyes fading away as you look up at him with a satisfied grin.

“Did so good, sweet girl,” Steve says between peppered kisses against your face, making you beam. His gentle hands maneuver your limp body until you're flat on your stomach. He rubs up and down your back until his grip lands on your ass, kneading at the flesh there and spreading you apart for him to admire.

“Such a pretty pussy,” Steve praises. Your body jumps when you feel his fingers run through you again, followed by an almost pained groan. Looking back over your shoulder, you see Steve’s fingers in his own mouth, eyes squeezed shut as he savors the way you taste. “Fucking amazing. Forgot how good omega pussy is.”

You hum at his words, finding the energy to raise your hips to present yourself to him, wiggling them back and forth. “Why don’t you come get some? Straight from the source.”

Steve’s eyes go wide with shock. “Really? That’s okay?”

“Of course it is,” you say with a chuckle. “Why would it not be?”

Steve wants to bring up how his ex would only let him go down on her when they had the time, which wasn’t often for two full time parents. But, he didn’t want to bring the mood down by bringing up his wife or how he felt like he might have been bad at it since she never wanted it.

“I just, uh, wanted to make sure. That’s all.”

“Okay,” you say, moving your hips playfully, “Less talking and more doing then.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Steve salutes before diving in tongue first. The taste of you is like divine nectar in his mouth. Something he could see himself getting addicted to if given the opportunity.

Flattening the thick muscle, he pushes it between your folds and licks a long stripe from your clit to your hole, letting the tip catch on it teasingly. He feels your body shiver under him, sending a confidence boost through his veins that encourages him to keep going.

Another quicker swipe through, but this time he lets his tongue slip into you completely. His thumb makes its way back to your clit, working it in tandem with his tongue in a way that makes you dizzy. Then, they switch places, his lips wrapping around your bud to lick and suck while his fingers curl inside you, his nose right up against your slit.

Steve feels the way you squeeze around him, familiar enough now that he knows your third orgasm is quickly approaching. But the thought of not feeling you cum on his cock has him pulling away from you all together. He laughs when you let out a whine, only for it to turn into a moan when he pushes the head of his cock inside you. He watches the way it pops in, disappearing in your tight cunt as you suck him in.

He wants to take his time with you, but the way you push back against him has him laughing. “Okay, I’m sorry, sweet girl. No more—teasing.” He punctuates the last word with a snap of his hips, thrusting all the way inside of you. His heavy balls audibly slap against your clit.

Steve manhandles your hips until they’re just where he likes them and begins to pound into you. Not too aggressive, but hard enough that his bed frame hits the wall with every thrust. Your vocalizations echo off the walls in competition, and he’s never been so thankful that his kids were staying with their mom for the weekend, because he doesn’t know what he would do if he had to tell you to stay quiet like he was used to.

“Fuck! Fuck! Steve! Oh my god, fuck me, Steve!”

Steve is sure he can taste blood from how hard he’s biting his bottom lip. His mind feels like it’s turning to mush again, pussy drunk from how right it feels to be inside you. Biology be damned, but he couldn’t deny it.

Slumping forward, Steve’s arms wrap around you and pin you to the mattress below him. His nose presses into the back of your neck, nostrils flaring again as your sweet scent fills them up. Drool spills from his mouth and onto your skin, and every fiber of his being is screaming at him to bite down onto that sensitive spot. He lets a canine drag against it, and he sees the goosebumps forming on your skin.

“Oh, fuck!”

Steve feels you cum on his cock, body shaking and eyes rolling back as you cry out. It’s all too much for Steve, bringing him to the edge where he’s about to cum himself.

He goes to pull out, but struggles as your body pins his arms under you. “Shit, shit!” He panics, only managing to pull out about halfway, unable to stop himself from cumming inside of you.

Steve knows that he should feel bad, and he probably will once he finally stops cumming. But, at the same time, he’s pretty sure he’s never cum so hard in his life. And before he knows it, he feels the blood rushing into the base of his cock where it begins to swell. He pulls out of you just enough that his knot sits snugly against your hole, practically begging to be inside of you.

“Holy shit, did you knot?” You pant against his bed sheets, turning your body to look back at him.

“Y-yeah,” He pushes himself off of you, sitting back on his knees. He looks at the way his knot is pressed against your entrance, feeling only a slight resistance when he rocks forward a bit.

“I’m surprised you pulled it out,” you say, giving him a look that he isn’t sure how to read. Heat creeps all over his body as the guilt starts to set in.

“I was trying to pull all the way out, I promise. I’m so sorry. We can stop at the drugstore on the way back to your car and—”

“Steve.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s okay.”

He feels the way you push back into his knot, rocking back and forth on his still hard length while his cum subtly starts to leak out of you.

“Yeah?” He asks again, eyes locked on his knot as you work yourself open on it. You’re so tight, but he can feel the resistance starting to give. Maybe if he just…

“Oh my god!” You squeal out. With one hard thrust, Steve was able to push his knot fully inside of you until it locks in place. Whether it be the natural connection between an alpha and an omega or, if your pussy was just that good, Steve can’t help but cum again, filling your already stuffed pussy up with more of his seed.

“It’s…it’s..”

“What is it, Stevie baby,” you ask in a sugary sweet voice, mind clearly on cloud nine from the soft look on your face.

“It’s just, it’s been so long…so long since I’ve felt like…”

“Awe, come’er,” you motion for him to lay with you, and Steve follows your command, taking you in a strong arm and maneuvering you both comfortably onto your sides. Underneath the covers, the two of you hold each other like you’ve been doing this for years rather than being a random Sunday afternoon hookup. The hairs of his mustache tickle the skin on your shoulder where he leaves kisses over and over again.

The two of you are quiet as you lay there in his bed. Steve’s mind races as the post nut clarity kicks in. Guilt plagues his brain first, but not in the way he thought it would. He thought he would feel guilty about sleeping with someone he didn’t vow his life to almost 20 years ago, but that’s not the case. Instead he feels guilty wishing he’d not wasted all those years with someone who couldn’t make him feel like this. All those years of putting her needs first…

“Are those your daughters?”

Steve’s head pops up to look over yours. Following your gaze, he sees the picture in question—well, he can’t see it clearly, his glasses being lost in the shuffle to get here. But, he knows what picture you’re talking about. It’s a picture of him and his two daughters, Hailey and Kristina, at their soccer tournament when they were 9 and 7 respectively. Their team had won 2nd place, but the both of them didn’t care because their dad had shown up to watch them play. It’s one of his favorite pictures of the three of them.

“Yeah, those are my girls,” Steve says with pride.

“They’re cute.” You look back at him with a smile, “They definitely get their looks from you.”

Steve feels the heat on his cheeks and ducks his head. “Thank you. Do, uh, do you have any kids?”

“Nope,” you say with a shake of your head. “Well, not yet at least.”

“Again, I am so, so sorry—” You bark out a laugh at his embarrassment and Steve tries to ignore the way you squeeze him.

“I’m just teasing, Steve.”

“Oh-okay,” he settles, daring to squeeze you a little tighter to him. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure,” you say excitedly, taking his hand in yours and rubbing circles into the back of his hand.

“Well, okay actually it’s, like, a series of questions. But, I guess the first one is…why me?”

“Why you? Like, why did I sleep with you?”

“Yeah…”

“Um, partly because you’re, like, really, really hot.”

Steve laughs at that, “Should’ve seen me when I was your age.”

“I’m sure you were super hot then, too. But you look like one of those guys who gets better with age.”

“Thanks…”

“Anyway, I also slept with you because you’re always really nice when you and your friend come in. I thought maybe you were, but honestly I couldn’t tell if you were flirting with me or not. I also wasn’t sure if you and her were dating and I didn’t want to embarrass myself so I never said anything. But when you pheromone bombed me earlier…I had to take my break because I thought I was going to go into heat.

“Jesus, I’m sorry about that, too,” Steve internally scolds himself for forgetting about that. “Forty two years old and I can’t even contain myself. Acting like I’m a newly presenting alpha again.”

“It’s okay…honestly it was kinda hot. That’s why when I saw you leaving, I thought ‘Fuck it, might as well shoot my shot.’ Glad I did.”

Steve is trying his damnedest to stay collected, he really is. But the more you talk about wanting to pursue him, the more he feels like he needs to get away from you before he falls for you. He knows it’s just the pheromones and the fact that he hasn’t felt wanted since Becca left him, but damn does it feel good to have someone want him.

He feels you snuggle back against him. You look over your shoulder at him with a sly expression.

“Ready for round two already?” You say with a teasing lit. His eyes go wide.

“What?” He asks with a nervous chuckle.

“I’m just kidding,” you say, sticking your tongue out at him. “Just felt like you got harder when I was talking about how I wanted you.”

Steve sucks in a breath. “I mean, if I can get this knot to go down enough…” It’s been a long while since Steve’s been able to go for a second round. But, he’s pretty sure he’d do anything you asked him right now.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind this for a little bit longer.”

The two of you ended up fucking for a good majority of the afternoon. At some point Steve fell asleep inside you, leaving you to scroll through his barely touched instagram until his knot went down again. He warned you that pictures of his wife were still on there since he didn’t know how to delete them. But when you told him you didn’t care about his past he ended up fucking you again, which is how you ended up in the position you’re in now.

When Steve rouses from his nap, he’s sad to find you not in bed with him. It felt good having someone to share his bed with again. A king size mattress is too big for only one person to occupy Steve has thought many nights now.

Steve puts on a pair of gray sweats and a tee shirt and searches the house for you. He gets a little nervous when he doesn’t find you anywhere. With a slight panic, he runs back to his room and checks his clothes from earlier. When everything was still in his pockets he grabbed his phone to see if you’d texted him that you were leaving. That was until he remembered that he never asked for your number…

Plopping down on the edge of the bed, he grabs his phone and taps the screen. The picture of Hailey and Kristina opening gifts at Robin’s house over Christmas break comes up, making him smile. But when he looks at the bottom of the screen, he sees the little notification bubble and scrolls up.

His eyes widen when he sees your name attached to a text message. He opens the message quickly, squinting his eyes to see the screen without his glasses on.

wanted a smoke so I’m sitting in your car hope that’s okay ♥️

Steve is up instantly, grabbing his coat and house slippers before pushing out the front door. He saw you in his passenger seat, bundled up in your coat with a cigarette still lit between your fingers. You were on the phone with someone, distracted as you looked out the front window. He could hear you speaking with someone through the cracked window.

“Yeah, the older guy. The divorced one…Girl, oh my goooooood…I will when I see you later. He’s so hot though…I don’t know. I kinda hope so. Like I’m sure my parents would be so pissed if I started dating a guy in his 40s…I don’t know. But girl we went at it for hooouuuursss, so I hope so.”

Steve was sure his face was the same shade of red as a tomato. He could hardly believe a girl was sitting in his car talking about how much she liked him to presumably one of her friends. And you were talking about dating?

“Do you want to go on a date with me?”

The words come out on their own. Your head snaps to look at him, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. You mutter a quick good bye to your friend and open the car door.

“S-sorry, I was talking to my friend. What did you say?”

Steve debated on back tracking. There’s no way you could be serious about liking him, so why embarrass himself, or even scare you off by taking things further. You were right, you were old enough that your parents wouldn’t approve even if you both wanted it. As a father of two girls, he can’t help but think about how he would feel if one of them brought home someone at least 15 years older than them…

“Steve?” The way you looked at him had him folding in an instant.

“I asked if you wanted to go on a date with me.”

A smile played at the ends of your mouth. “Really?” You ask coyly. “This isn’t just some little fantasy thing for you? Older man hooking up with a younger girl to make himself feel better?” Steve shook his head.

“God, no. Those aren’t my intentions at all.” Steve’s hand reaches out for yours, which you gladly take, swinging them between the two of you. Steve clears his throat before looking you in the eye as he speaks.

“I’m not the type of guy that does…” He gestures vaguely towards his house. “Does the hook up thing. At least I haven’t been in a good while.”

“I knew you were a player when you were younger,” you say with a cheeky smile.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He laughs.

“I saw a picture that your friend Robin tagged you in on her instagram of the two of you back in the day and…” You gave him a look that made him duck his head.

“I guess you could say that I was a bit more debaucherous back in my early twenties. But, I think the longevity of my marriage should stand as testament that I am capable of being a loyal, faithful partner to the right person.”

“And you want to see if I could be a candidate for that “right person” position?”

“Mmm, that sounds like you’d need to convince me.” He pulls you into him, looking down at you as you’re pressed against him. “But I’m pretty sure you’ve already got me hooked on you. Just need to prove to you that this old man is worth keeping around.”

The way your smile crinkles your eyes as you look up at him has Steve’s heart fluttering. And when you reach up to kiss him, that fluttering swells into a blooming warmth that runs through his veins the second your lips touch.

“Well, when and where does this “old man,” you echo his words with finger quotes, “want to have this date, hmm?”

The two of you iron out the details over a smoke in Steve’s warm car, and continue to talk well past the setting of the sun. Eventually, Steve takes you back to your car, where the two of you make out parked next to it until you’re pretty sure you hear your closing coworkers coming out the back door from the end of shift.

Steve makes you promise to text him when you get home to make sure you got there safe. You throw a casual “sure thing, dad” at him, and as he watched you get in your car he has to question himself as to why he liked you calling him that…

thank you for reading.

#steve harrington #alpha!steve harrington #alpha!steve harrington x omega!reader #older!steve harrington #older!steve harrington x reader #older!steve harrington x younger!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x y/n smut #omegaverse #a/b/o

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atinyrasberry · 4 months

Note

Hey hey! A few ideas for a oneshot with some of our mha boys with fem reader ♡

Todoroki's first crush. He's such an adorable dense sweetie I can't even 😚 while he's never been in a situation like this, I still feel like he'd be upfront with her about him feeling 'weird inside' and she'd basically have to tell him what love is

The manliest man, Kiri! Maybe helping him dye his hair with confessions?

Bakugo realizing he's in love with reader and not knowing how to deal with it. Kiri being best wingman ♡

THIS IS CUTE OK LET ME COOK‼️‼️ Kirishima does not get enough appreciation, so writing this made me really happy :). THANK YOU FIR REQUESTING, AND FEEL FREE TO ASK AGAIN, I LOVE YOU ANON!!

The room looked like a murder scene. Red dye was everywhere, splattered on the sink and bathroom tiles. Kirishima sat in between your legs on the bathroom floor, with you sitting on the tub putting the dye in his hair. You both forgot to use a dye brush, which resulted in you having to use your fingers. Massaging his scalp, you made sure the dye was applied evenly (maybe you just wanted to play with his hair 🤭). Kirishima sighed at the feeling of your hands running through his hair, leaning back into you and letting you take control.

"This is nice," He comments, reveling in your warm touch and soft humming. "I'm so glad I asked you for help, I could've never done this by myself," Kirishima chuckled.

"It's no problem, I enjoy moments like this, it relaxes me," You replied, making his heart skip a beat. You've always had a crush on Kirishima, so you jumped at the chance for alone time with him when he needed help with his hair.

Once you finished putting in the dye, you waited for a while, chatting on the bathroom floor and enjoying each others company. Once the dye was ready to wash, you put his head over the tub and helped him get it out. Drying his hair off with a towel, you realized how attractive he looked. Damp hair framing his face, a cute smile forming, staring at you with adoration. He loved that you were so focused on helping him out, his eyes moving to your lips.

"Can I kiss you?"

You paused. What did he just say? He wants to kiss you??

"W- wait, what!? You want to kiss me?" you exclaimed in suprise.

"Yeah, you look so pretty focused on me. I just can't help but to want to kiss your pretty lips." He murmured, "I've liked you for a long time, but I haven't been manly enough to tell you, so I assumed was my best chance," Laughing nervously, Kirishima averts his eyes from you.

You grabbed his chin, forcing him to look back at you, and pressed your lips against his. Widening his eyes in shock, Kirishima lets out a little squeak in suprise. He eventually melts into you, bringing you closer to him and cupping your cheek.

"I really like you," He whispered, foreheads touching eachother, "and I want to be your boyfriend, if that's alright with you,"

"Of course it is," You replied, "I wouldn't be sitting here at 3 in the morning dying your hair if I didn't like you back, you moron," You joked, flicking his forehead.

Kirishima smiled, bringing you in for another kiss. He was positive that he was the luckiest man alive.

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delicatetaysversion · 5 months

Text

today is the first time in like forever that i kept my hair open for the whole day without hating them by the end of the day and they're so soft and i tried on dark maroon purple lipstick yesterday with my bestfriend and she was like whoa. you look like. hot. and Mature. and i told her i love her because i kept using pink because it's cute pretty girly and i wanna feel pretty but it didn't really suit me but this this dark shade it's perfect i feel so confident and sexy and i hung out with my cousin little sister rn we used to be closest bestfriends but we drifted apart because of papa-chachu drama in childhood but

#she came over and she was like i don't have company to smoke with come on smoke with me #and i was like aaah okay #and she's so cute she's like okay have this vape after the cig to like remove the bad taste #and i gave her change for auto cause she didn't have any and she was like ill pay you back and i was like girl please shut up #choti behen hai meri itna toh kar hi sakti hu and she laughed and was lke arre aise hai fir toh main itne mein nahi maanungi aur do #so i was like bade hoke pakka abhi itni hi aukat hai #it's nice i feel happy #i also leaned my head on my office wali senior ka shoulder cause i was superrrr sleepyyyy today #only for like a minute but she was like aww are you sleepy it's okay so ja i understand this and she patted my head gently #like you know side face pe they pat🥺🥺🥺0 #and like i was like do you need help what do i do when she was working and she was like kuch nahi i just need you to sit here next to me #and keep chattering #it's so 🥺🥺🥺#like this is big okay she's kinda very cool and smart and like real focused and serious okay she doesn't like disturbances #and i love her brain i want to be curious and sorted like her i love the way she understands things slowly but completely #like just work wise i aspire to be her everyone gets so impressed by her i do too the sir was like {her name} ko ab bank audit acche se aa #gaya hai ab wo apne aap bhi kar sakfi hai sign kar sakti hai #WHICH IS SOOOOOO COOL like bhai he's a very good ca okay crazy intelligent and to have him say that. just wow #and i was whining to her ki everyone sucks my relatives suck nobody even appreciates that im killing myself trying to make a career here #all my mami cares about is that why couldn't i take ek din ki leave and show up at her fucking dance practice😭😭#so she was like aww it's okay leave them ill say it you're doing very good {my real name} im proud of you #i literally said awww thank you out loud itna sweet tha na #wow a happy vent post this is a first

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buckys-wintersoldier · 2 months

Text

Warming Heart | B.B

Coldness and hate, followed by nightmares — he never chooses to be like that but the people made him to be like that. People made him be the beast but maybe there will be one who can melt the grumpy man’s heart.

//Pairing// Beast!Grumpy!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Fem!Reader

//Wordcount// 4.727 Words

//Warnings// grumpy x sunshine, Bucky being hated, “beast”!Bucky, grumpy!Bucky, hurt/comfort kinda, nightmare, fluff

//Authors Note// I want to thank @holylulusworld for listening to all my ramblings about the idea and helping me with details. Also for proofreading, all mistakes are still mine (so don’t steal them from me!)

// Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist //

Surrounded by darkness and hate — without a chance to make amends because no one even gives him just the smallest of a chance to let him try to be like them or at least explain himself. They hate him like no one else, like he is the worst thing you could be around and that’s the way they would act around him.

So the man decided years ago to hide in his small house in the middle of the forest, he doesn’t care what the people say about him, about his house. At least he doesn’t care anymore, if someone had asked him a few years back he would have tried to explain himself with tears in his eyes and a broken voice.

The man he was and the man he is now is a huge difference because he is different now. It wasn’t him who changed himself, it was the people who changed him into the “beast” he is now.

James Barnes doesn’t mind the coldness and darkness around him, he even appreciates it. He hates everyone who is close to his house and luckily there are rarely people who walk that deep into the forest, especially after they heard the stories about him, about the monster — the winter soldier.

The winter soldier is known as the most dangerous assassin with a metal arm. There are stories of why he lost his arm and now has a metal arm. From ‘he got hurt during a mission’ to ‘he ripped off his arm to make himself more dangerous’. But the truth? No one asks what the truth is, no one cares because they have their own stories, their imaginations about the man.

You’re new to the village, living in a small house at the edge of it. The people living there only look at you with suspicious eyes because you’re different. That’s what you think because you haven’t even introduced yourself to them but they don’t even talk to you.

Maybe it’s your style or the fact that you’re living in a way more modern way than they do. You’re working from home, with your laptop. You have meetings and organize everything for the company you’re working for. Maybe they think you plan to turn their small village into a hotel resort or whatever — but there is one thing you know: the people living in that village are judgeful and need a while to warm up with other people.

Today you decided to go for a walk, you always loved the forests and the one next to the village always smells so good like fir and spruce. So when it wasn’t too warm and most people were busy with their stuff, you sneaked out of the house and through the village into the forest.

The first step you take into it lets you forget about all the annoying and judging people you’re around all day. You inhale deeply, muscles relaxing immediately when the fresh breeze mixed with the smell of the trees hits your face.

You’re not sure why those people don’t like the forest, always mumbling about it, staring into it when it gets dark or when the rain comes — like there's a monster hidden that comes out by night or storms. You mostly laughed about their behavior, shaking your head and asking yourself who is the different one — you or the other village members.

With slow steps and your eyes everywhere at the same time in the forest you walk along the small path. You’re really not sure why none of the others go into the forest, it’s pretty, smells good, and is so quiet that you can only hear the birds and the moving leaves of the trees.

Bucky is out of his house, enjoying the loneliness the forest brings with it. He doesn’t miss the judging people, the intense stare, or the obvious whispers. He is happy when he is as happy as you can be with yourself in a forest. But the brown-haired man isn’t completely alone, he has a golden retriever named Stevie, who is his best friend and always with Bucky.

A low sound leaves the dog when the two of them hear a crack nearby. Bucky narrows his eyes, growling. He doesn’t like people, especially not near to his house. It’s his house, he has to keep it safe and no one is allowed to be close to it or else it wouldn’t be as safe as it used to be.

The man places his metal hand at the back of his dog's collar, holding him back as they slowly make their way through the forest to find out where the cracking comes from. And as they surround a tree not far away from their house a squirrel is running through the leaves on the ground and up a tree.

Bucky exhales deeply, he loves the animals in the forest, they are afraid of him but they don’t judge him, they don’t get into his house and they don’t talk to him. That kind of neighbor is his favorite.

A low growl echoes through the forest, the dark suddenly darker than before, and suddenly the rain is pouring down, wetting the big man completely in no time. With an annoyed huff, he leads Steve back to their shared house, he should have paid more attention to the dark clouds in the sky but he was too deep in his thoughts, in his own doing, and then too busy with the squirrel to notice before it started to rain.

He lets Steve off his hand and turns on the fire in the fireplace to let his dog dry in front of it while Bucky himself takes a shower and changes into dry and more comfortable clothes. Bucky likes rain, at least when it doesn’t pour down on him, but when the drops roll down his windows, the steady sound of them falling against the window and the quiet crackling sound of the fire is the only sound that echoes through his house.

The rain surprises you just as much as it surprised Bucky, but instead of him, your house is around half an hour's walk away from you. Your clothes are soaked and you start to freeze with every following blow of the wind through the forest. Arms already wrapped around yourself you walk further into the forest, hoping for a small hut or something. Little do you know that you’re going to find a house just a few more minutes walk away from you.

Thunder and lightning join the rain when you see a small house in the distance. You smile to yourself as you notice it, it looks dark but at least it could help you to warm up a bit maybe.

The front door is locked, so you look around, maybe there is a window you can climb through to get into the house? Or you have to throw something into it to get in there, whatever option you choose it has to be fast because you aren’t feeling your fingers or toes anymore. After walking a bit more around the house you find a door that looks similar to the front door just at the back which leads into a small garden. The garden is surprisingly clean for a house that looks so empty but you’re too deep in your thoughts to notice that.

You stomp through the dust, your shoes and legs completely one with the dirt, and a few leaves stuck to your shoes as well. When you try to open the door that leads into the house you’re successful. You easily slip into the floor of the house, closing the door behind you and sighing deeply.

As you trim around your eyes wander through a kitchen, someone is living in that house, it’s all cleaned and you wonder who could live there. Maybe a nice or mean witch? You have seen a lot of movies with them, sometimes they are nice so you hope that whichever witch's house that is, is one of the nice ones.

Since the house is perfectly clean and someone obviously lives here, you don’t want to disturb them further with all the dirt under your shoes, so you take them off and leave them at the door when you walk through the kitchen.

“H-hello, someone at home? I-uhm- I was out for a walk and it started raining, I’m sorry for just coming in but it is freezing outside,” you say, ignoring the fact that you could talk to yourself in case there is no one at home right now.

It’s still cold, your wet clothes cling to your skin and you shiver lightly. There is no noise except the noise of the wetness falling from your clothes and the steady sound of rain against the windows. It’s almost completely dark but you can still see everything around you.

For a moment you feel like someone is staring at you, like there are a pair of blue eyes in the darkness but as you blink it’s suddenly away and you shake your head. A soft warm yellow is visible underneath a door that leads from the floor into another room, maybe someone is there? Or at least something you can warm yourself up with?

Slowly with almost quiet steps, you walk through the dark floor, there is still that feeling of someone behind you, a pair of eyes that watches you carefully but whenever you turn around there is no one. You’re brave but it still scares you a bit, no one would go into another person's house but it’s an exception, isn’t it?

As you open the door where the light is visible you smile softly, there is a fireplace with a couch in front of it and you immediately move into it, closing the door — not completely because it’s too heavy. Whoever lives here has to be strong and big because everything looks just so big.

A low growl comes from behind the door once you sit on the floor in front of the fireplace, warming your hands. Your head shoots to the side, the door is now completely open again, and in the doorframe is a broad man, almost as thick as the doorframe itself.

“What are you doing here, girl?” He asks, staring at you. His eyes are ocean blue and he frowns, his teeth gritted and jaw clenched. Your eyes wander lower to his broad chest and widen slightly the moment you notice the glistening metal arm he has. But he is still handsome.

“I-uhm it rains really bad outside and uhm— the thunderstorm probably gets worse so I thought I—“ he interrupts you with a snarl. Shaking his head, he growls once again.

“And you think you could come into MY house,” he mumbles, rolling his eyes. The wind blows through the floor and he notices the way your body starts trembling because of the cold. He takes a step inside the room, ready to close the door as a dog runs into the room and directly toward you.

Before you get the chance to answer him the golden retriever jumps on top of you, causing you to fall backwardand land on the floor. The dog immediately licks all over your face, causing you to giggle in the softest way Bucky has ever heard.

He doesn’t know why but the sound of your giggles warm his inside a bit, his heart flutters and there is almost a soft smile across his lips but he gets his facade back before the smile breaks through it, closing the door. He then faces you once more, snapping at his dog who whines before moving away and taking a seat next to you.

Bucky still doesn’t trust you and you have to be out of his house as far as possible. His eyes roam over you, through the room, and to the window. The forest is covered in a deep dark, he can’t even see the trees that are close to the house and he knows he can’t send you out like that, especially not with the thunderstorm and even less with your still dripping clothes.

“Stay there,” he says, his voice rough and dark. Bucky stomps through the living room, looking through a drawer to fish out a towel with a pair of pants and a thick hoodie of his. With that he walks closer to you again, placing them on the couch behind you before taking a step backward. “Second door, right side. Take a shower, can’t make you ill because of your wet clothes.”

You nod, smiling softly at him. Even though he looks at you with narrowed eyes and a grumpy expression you smile at him all the time, trying to lighten up his mood with yours.

“Thank you, I’m y/n!” You say, getting off the floor and grabbing the clothes with the towel to take a warm shower. The golden retriever gets up with you as well, his tail swinging from one side to the other as he follows you through the door.

“Bucky.” The man grumbles, crossing his arms in front of his chest. He takes a seat on the couch, his eyes always following you. “Stevie, sit! And no sneaking around!”

You nod, giggling about his still harsh tone, and then you make your way to the bathroom to take a warm shower. Before you’re ready to change into his comfortable clothes.

Meanwhile, Bucky growls a bit more under his breath. His thick, long fingers scratch over Steve’s head and his ears, causing the dog to snuggle into Bucky. The big man smirks softly, just a tiny bit when he sees his dog so happy and comfortable.

“Do ya like her, you do, don’t you?” He asks his dog, not wanting an answer, Bucky just likes talking to his dog. He is his friend, his own company so he is used to talking to him about everything. “You’re also just a boy, getting weak when it comes to women.”

Steve snuggles more against Bucky, his long tongue gliding over the man’s hand until he has to wipe it on his pants to dry it. “Yeah, good boy. You need to protect us, don’t be weak when a woman walks into our home, Stevie.”

After returning to the living room Bucky offered you warm tea, he doesn’t want you to get sick because of the cold. It would be his fault — and as much as he hates people he doesn’t want you to feel bad. So he makes tea for the two of you, looking for some snacks he can offer as well and some for Steve.

Bucky feels slightly betrayed by his best friend as he walks back into the living room. Steve is cuddled up into you, his head resting on your lap while you sit wrapped into a warm blanket on the couch. Your fingers slide through the golden retriever's fur, causing him to relax.

“Looks like he likes you… he usually doesn’t like other people,” Bucky's deep voice comes from behind you. You shiver lightly the moment the rough sound of his voice echoes through the room.

“He’s like you, isn’t he?” You ask with the softest smile tugging at your lips. Your cheeks are slightly pink when you turn to face Bucky, who places the snacks next to you on the couch and hands you a cup of tea.

Bucky takes a seat next to you, growling and you notice that he likes to growl about everything. He then nods, sipping at his cup and staring into the fire in the fireplace.

The silence makes you nervous and there are a few — a lot of — questions you want to get off your chest. You clear your throat, getting his attention but he still doesn’t look at you. You actually have his attention the whole time, Bucky is looking at you from the corner of his eyes.

“Why are you living here in the forest so far away from the village?” You ask, turning your head while playing with your hands in your lap. You twirl Steve’s fur around your digits before letting them go. Bucky doesn’t answer, only turning his hands into fists, gripping the fabric of his pants tightly.

The knuckles of his flesh hand turn already white and you shift in your seat. “I- uhm, sorry. I understand that the people there can be really— they are you know, need a long time to get used to other people,” you mumble, being grateful when Steve gets off your lap and walks through the room, picking a toy of his up to bring it to you.

You giggle sweetly, grasping one side while the dog holds the other side between his teeth. He pulls on it, trying to get it out of your hand but your grip is too strong so you hold it tightly. Soft chuckles and giggles leave your lips now and then, you praise the dog for being such an adorable dog, that he is a good boy.

Even Bucky has to try his best to not let a soft chuckle slip past his lips. The corners of his mouth twitch but he manages to not smile completely, just a tiny bit, hoping you don’t notice.

The moment he smirks, Steve turns and stands in front of the taller man, casting your eyes on Bucky and you see the smile tugging at his lips. It makes your heart flutter, Bucky’s blue eyes light up, and his nose scrunches.

Bucky doesn’t talk much to you all evening, only to ask you if you want more tea or some snacks. He tells you to sleep on the couch, offering you some more blankets and a pillow, bringing it to you. Steve stays with you in the living room which makes Bucky grumble as he walks into his bedroom.

He hasn’t slept without his dog in a long time, actually never since he adopted Steve. But now his best friend prefers the girl that stays at their house. With a grumpy expression, Bucky gets into his bed, curls himself tight into his blanket, and grasps a pillow to hold on to something in his sleep while Steve has his place for the night next to you on the couch.

It doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep, you’re warmed by the dog and the massive blankets. And you couldn’t feel saver, of course, Bucky hasn’t talked much about himself and was grumpy most of the time but you have seen his soft smile when you giggled.

Your sleep is interrupted by a scream, followed by another loud noise that echoes through the house. You immediately sit on the couch, looking at the dog who is still cuddled up next to you, only his head is up to look at you with his big eyes.

Another sound comes from the floor or somewhere in the house, it sounds like someone slams against a wall or the floor. You shiver, it’s only Bucky who is next to you and Steve in the house and Steve is next to you, so it can only be Bucky or a monster?

You notice a groan that sounds pretty much like Bucky but it sounds slightly different to the growls he answers you with all day. This one right now sounds like he is hurt, but why could he be hurt? Maybe he fell out of the bed?

“Get up, Stevie, let’s find out what’s going on in your dad's room, yeah?” You ask, and even though you’re not sure if the golden retriever understands you, he gets up, waiting in front of the couch for you to get up as well.

With the blanket wrapped around you and Steve walking next to you slowly, and quietly through the room, to the floor until you reach Bucky’s bedroom. Behind the closed door, you can hear muffled screams, heavy moans which could also be groans, and now and then a punch against either the bed or the wall.

You open the door, finding Bucky still in his bed but his blanket is wrapped around his legs and arms. The brown-haired man looks like he is trying to fight against the fabric like it’s someone who holds him, and whatever he tries he can’t get out of their grip.

With another step into the room and Steve whimpering next to you, you notice the sweat running down Bucky’s face. The sheets underneath him almost wrapped around him instead of the mattress. Bucky’s metal arm is glistening in the light shine of the moon when he lifts it and throws it against the wall behind his bed.

“Bucky? Hey, Bucky, wake up, you’re oke?” You ask, doubting that he is going to wake up when you talk to him. He growls once again, punching around him before he moans painfully and stays still for a brief moment. “Bucky?”

When he lies there, moving less than before you sit down next to him, hoping you won’t scare him. You place your hand on his flesh arm, stroking your thumb over his sweaty skin. He immediately relaxes a bit, still trying to get out of the grip of the blanket but less than before.

“Bucky, it’s oke. You’re having a nightmare, no one’s gonna hurt you. Stevie’s here too,” you say, patting the place next to you on the bed and the dog jumps onto it, leaning over Bucky to lick across his face, waking the big man up as soon as Steve’s wet tongue touches Bucky’s skin.

“Stevie,” Bucky breathes out heavily, his eyes shooting open as he notices the touch on his arm. Wide, blue eyes staring at you, there is nothing left of the cold gaze he had when you walked into his house earlier. His eyes only show terror, his whole expression shows you that, even though he isn’t dreaming anymore. “F—“

“It��s oke, s-sorry, I didn’t want to scare you,” you mumble and this time his eyes widen in surprise. You’re scared that you scared him? He is the one who is punching around himself, who is like a wild beast haunted by his nightmares. But you, you don’t want to scare him?

“I-uhm you scare me? I’m the one who scares everyone,” the man mumbles, sitting up and resting against the headboard of his bed with his back. “Why aren’t you scared?”

You giggle, earning a soft smile from Bucky as well. You’re really adorable, giggling all day like nothing could ever hurt you and you’re the first one in ages who isn’t afraid of him, who doesn’t mind his presence and even helps him.

“Why should I? Because you’re a grumpy man, ohhh, you’re way nicer even as the grump you are than the people in the village,” you smirk, turning a bit to face him better, your fingers sliding up and down his arm. You then let them glide to his legs, helping him to free his legs from the blanket. “The blanket isn’t your enemy, it’s your friend, you know?”

He chuckles, nodding his head. Bucky runs his fingers over his face, through his hair before he sighs deeply. “I know, but the stories they tell about me, exist because parts of them are true but no one knows the story behind it, and while I dream my blanket turns into my worst enemy when it’s wrapped tightly around me. When Steve is here it’s better, but this boy prefers girls when he gets to see one.”

“Stories? I never heard about a Bucky in a story, are you famous?”

“Not in a good way, but kind of. Have you ever heard about the winter soldier?” Bucky asks, shivering when the name slips past his lips. You nod, you have heard of him, once but you thought it was just a scary story to stop the kids from running into the forest. “It was— the winter soldier, it was me. That’s why they hate me in the village, why they are scared of me.”

Your mouth drops open as you nod. The metal arm, the soldier was described with one. But Bucky is everything but scary, maybe a bit grumpy — which doesn’t surprise you when one is living all by himself.

“Do you want me to go back into the living room? I mean I can also stay here if you want. But Steve will be there now so,” you ask, drawing circles on Bucky’s thighs. He follows your fingers, his expression softens and a smile tugs at the corner of his lips. You’re really not scared of him, not even now when you know about him as the winter soldier.

“I- uhm would you- I mean, I would love it if you would stay here, I- I can change the sheets because they are sweaty,” he mumbles.

“How about you give me the sheets and I will change them while you take a shower,” you suggest, Bucky nods.

The two — three — of you are cuddled up in the bed around forty minutes later. Bucky has his arm wrapped around your shoulder, caressing the skin while your head is placed on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat.

“I understand that you don’t want to be in the village if you can be here — it’s quieter, more natural, and beautiful — but you know, you’re not him anymore. You’re Bucky and not the person they think you are,” you mumble into his chest.

He sighs, nodding. He knows that but you’re the only person next to him who thinks like that. At least he thinks that sometimes about himself, as long as no one is looking at him with a judging gaze.

“I try to believe it,” he says, sliding his fingers further to your hair, twirling them around his fingers. He had told you about him as the Winter Soldier and the things he did when they brainwashed and forced him to work for them. “But it helps that Steve loves me and that you stumbled into my house.”

You giggle, pulling the blanket over the two of you, and nuzzle more into Bucky. Steve is cuddled up between your and Bucky’s legs, already snoring quietly.

“I’m also glad I stumbled into your house, grumpy boy,” you smirk, looking up at him. His eyes light up and he smiles, and he looks adorable when he smiles, especially the slight scrunch of his nose.

“I guess I want to keep you here forever, and Stevie would help me, I’m sure,” Bucky chuckles, leaning down to kiss the top of your head.

“I wouldn’t mind staying here with you. I’m so proud of you, you have built your own house with everything, and you’re so much stronger than you think. I would love to spend the rest of my life with you to make sure you know you can be and will be loved — by me.”

No one has told him that they are proud of him or love him in ages, but when you say it — it sounds just perfect. The two of you know that those words have a deep meaning and that it’s more like a promise than a joke. Who knew the ice around the man’s heart could melt with the help of you when you stumble not just into his house but also into his small world and light up the darkness? You’re his everything and he will make sure you have everything you need with him, who needs judging people in the village when you have one another — plus Bucky has now two loves who take care that his blanket doesn’t wrap around him and keep him in bed — because that’s your task from now on, or Bucky’s so he has an excuse for whatever he planned to do the day that includes work.

With you, he found everything he was ever asking for, someone who loves him for the person he is, someone who isn’t afraid of him. But he never thought you would like his metal arm and help him love himself as the one he is.

//Taglist// @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @armystay89 @suz7days @etherealdisneyvillainness @pono-pura-vida @somnorvos @meowmeowyoongles @randomawesomeperson102 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf @loki-laufeyson68 @winterschildren8 @bxtchboy69 @jeremyrennermakesmesmile @bucky-barnes-lover @felicitylemon @cjand10 @bookishtheaterlover7 @casa-boiardi @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry @capsbestgirl77 @nervouseden @jiyascepter @princesscore-angel @mrs-katelyn-barnes @sasha-writing @blackhawkfanatic @fanfictionreaderfan @multiversefanfics @angelbabyyy99 @looking1016 @aphrodite-xoxo @im-alestan @lives-in-midgard

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chocsra · 9 months

Text

"Held like Glass, Kissed Alike"

chuuya x fem! reader - how he holds you 🙇‍♀️

a/n: to all my physical touch bbgs 🫶

content: how chuuya holds you, kissing, holding hands, fluff, drabble/small oneshot, smug! chuuya, soft! chuuya, not proofread, prolly grammar errors

"chuuya! hold my bag while you're at it!"

'cocky demands from a cocky person', chuuya thinks. "tsk," he tuts--the downpour of rain at the moment was horrific, especially in a city, a populated, developed, city drowned in sad puddles of slushy water. you and your trusted friend, chuuya nakahara, had came to go shopping, and unbeknownst to the subsequent downfall, you both stupidly didn't bring an umbrella.

so when the rain fell, he swiftly grabbed the closest umbrella in one of the restaurant's stands, successfully covering the both of you. chuuya is one of your close friends, and even though he's slightly annoyed most of the time and yaps a whole lot, he's also decently reliable.

you on the other hand, felt like you needed to make his life worse, a living hell. wanting to feel like those clingy girlfriends in romcoms, you pulled down your purse and dramatically handed it to him. watching as his eyebrows furrow in confusion, "might as well hold my bag while you're at it!" and yes, even with a baffled scoff, the redhead still held your bag for the rest of the day.

"i just realised, why do you always wear gloves?"

a romantic tune of jazz sung in the air, fancy clinks and clanks of cutlery swang past as you and your now fellow date, chuuya nakahara, sat in one of the finest restaurants in yokohama.

the ginger chews on his food intently, elbow planted on the table as he takes two gloved fingers, and motions you to come closer. you cock a brow, leaning forward, ear facing him.

"got a nasty case of athletes foot, but on my fingers." that's one way to swoon you, great work chuuya. the mafioso wiggles his eyebrows sarcastically watching as you sink away back into your seat. "thank you s'much," you reply, now picking at your food, "think I just lost my appetite."

the redhead snickers and pinches the tip of his gloves in between his teeth, removing it. "I'm joking, here." he smirks, a large hand urging you to place yours atop of his. you follow, feeling the warmth of his palms spread to yours, his hands were pretty damn big, bigger than a lot of men despite of his height.

"you like holding hands, hm?" the mafiosos smirks playfully as you try to hide the big smile creeping on your lips. he rubs the back of your hand with his thumb, gently looking as the moonlight illuminates your eyes focused on your hands. chuuya felt damn lucky he could ever get someone to look at him like that. the redhead darts his eyes back to you and your interlocked hands, whispering, "i do too, it's okay." even though chuuya was a terrifying mafia executive, he couldn't help but hide the boyish smile as he held your hand in between his fingers, feeling as your soft skin smooths over his rarely bare, lithe hands.

"this is rush hour in public transit, would ya look at that?"

you beam a light-hearted smile at the redhead beside you, in one of the most crowded subways. sweat and humid air pierced through, and so did the amount of space you could breathe in. chuuya nakahara, your newly and beloved boyfriend, hasn't taken public transportation in years. so he wasn't used to the crushing claustrophobia of other people at all, you, on the other hand seemed rather desensitized to it. smiling and rambling about how 'it's not that bad'. the redhead could only scoff in return, his right hand tightening on the bar for support.

"actually," you continue, clutching your purse in your left hand, "you haven't been here in a while, have you?" you smirk teasingly, causing chuuya to groan in annoyance at your words. the subway doors opening yet again, "well, consider this your fir--"

a new line of bustling people rammed into the compartment, as they filled the station, you stepped back in oblivion, almost seperating you and your fellow company. but with a calculated pull, chuuya hooked an arm around your waist and pulled you close to him, thumb rubbing at your side.

the mafioso lets out a dramatic sigh, "yeah, well? continue?" you look at him in a surprised gaze, eyes darting to the hand still tugged around your waist, even as the sea of other people weren't in threat of a stampede anymore. you felt a knot twist in your stomach as chuuya cocks a brow at you, waiting for you to finish your sentence. "shit, well, now i forgot."

"opinion on people who sleep with socks on?"

you weren't so used to grand gestures in general, but every month your boyfriend, chuuya nakahara, surprised you with something new just because you could deal with his shit. this month, he took you stargazing, with a small theme park next to your designated spot. neon arcade lights reflected off your face and eyes as he took a gloved hand and brushed away some strands with an ever soft graze of his fingers.

you, feeling foreign to the affectionate brush of his fingers, smile tugging at his lips, eyes rested on yours, asked the most random and stupid question that popped in your head. "what's your opinion on people who sleep with socks on?" the ginger chuckles softly at your question, still cupping your cheek, watching as your eyes drag away to anything but him. "shut up already." chuuya smiles boyishly, which reminds you of his raw humanity every once in a while. you hum in a quipped agreement before stiffling a laugh.

"happy not-so-ani-aniversary, pretty girl." chuuya's pillowy lips come down on your left cheek, leaving a soft peck as his thumbs grazes against the side of your face. his lips then connect to your right cheek, making your pinch one of your eyes shut as the redhead pecks your nose. uncontrollably smiling as you giggle, pushing your hair to the side as he presses his soft lips against your forehead, bringing yourselves down.

the mafioso brings you in closer, "i love you." he mutters, as he connects your lips to his. a soft fluttering in his stomach occurs as he feels you smile against his lips, taking his fingers in between your hair as he smooths through it. he was truly enamoured, enchanted, beyond bewitched. chuuya took in how good it feels to have you, a girlfriend, an asshole, a companion.

from every place he held, it was always just you. chuuya knew, that if his fingers fit so perfect in the interlocking of yours, curled around your waist, or cupping your cheek, he was meant to hold you. to be yours, as they say.

a/n: sorry for my vanishing bbgs, ill upload more at christmas break😔😔

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #chocsra #bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara #bsd x reader #chuuya x reader #chuuya x you #chuuya x y/n #chuya x reader #chuya x you #Spotify

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