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#Expo's hair down is just like-
slimey-wally · 3 months
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Expo (Slime Eddie) sketches!! 🤍
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I need to draw more of Eddie 💙🤍🕊️🤍💙
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buckyalpine · 7 months
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LMAOO OKAY IMAGINE 40s!BUCKY (like tfa stark expo version) MAGICALLY TELEPORTING TO MODERN DAY, and Sharon’s bitch ass is hanging all over him, flirting hardcore, and is absolutely thrilled bc he’s actually giving her some attention. BUT THEN HE SEES THE READER AND IS LIKE “oh wow who is THAT” and leaves her alone to go woo the gorgeous dame. I can picture her face getting all red and embarrassed and upset. And Sam and Nat and Tony are in the background giggling.
GOD I LOOOVEEE THISSSS 40's heart has my heart cause this blushing soldier would be such a perfect mix of devilishly handsome and adorably shy.
-
"Shit" Tony huffed watching his time portal experiment start up and fail for the fourth time in a row while Bruce continued to medal with the dials, resetting the machine once more. "Why does it keep doing that"
"Give it a secondary power source, there's not enough juice with the first one"
Tony nodded, rummaging through a pile of knick knacks on his desk, grabbing a vial and adding it to the generator.
"Alright, set the timer to 19:00 hours and 40 in the past. Let's see if we can just travel to yesterday first before messing with going back years" He snorted, as Bruce punched in the time before hitting the start up button. The machine started to rumble before growing hot, the dials and buttons spinning and clicking on its own, parts starting to pop off.
"Oh shit!" Tony ducked under the table, shielding himself from getting knocked out as the portal grew more powerful, a force filed growing, knocking down things around the lab.
"What the hell did you use as a power source?!" Bruce yelled over the high pitched whizz the machine started to make, blinding light filling the room before disappearing, leaving a cloud of smoke in its place.
"I don't know, I just grabbed something that look like it'd fit" Toy shrugged between coughs as the smoke dissipated, squinting when he realized the platform wasn't empty.
Someone was standing there.
"What the hell..."
Blinking with bright blue eyes was a young soldier, dressed in a fresh, clean and pressed uniform, looking like a lost puppy while Tony and Bruce blinked in both confusion and amusement.
"Banner what the hell did you do with the timer?!"
"You're vial set everything into over drive, it must've recalibrated to 1940 instead of a couple of hours ago!" Bruce threw his hands up while the younger version of Bucky stared at the lab with child like wonder, his eyes twinkling as if it were Christmas day.
"Holy shit..." He breathed out seeing the vast technology, his mind still reeling over what was happening. One minute, he was on his way to see Steve and take some girls dancing and next thing he knew, he was sucked through a loop.
"Dear God-alright, uh-Barnes?" Tony waved the soldier over, mentally debating on what to tell him.
"Mr. Stark? It's-it's an honor, sir" Bucky shook Tony's hand before standing tall before him with his back straight, ever the bright eyed Sargent. Tony scratched his head before letting him take a seat, figuring honesty was the best police.
"Sargent. This may take a while"
-
Bucky understood bits and pieces of what Tony explained to him while getting a tour of the compound, the common room being the last place for him to check out. The team alternated between greeting and secretly cooing over the adorable young Bucky while also simultaneously laughing at Tony. At the very least, the billionaire was lucky the actual Bucky was away on a mission with you and Steve; there was only so much he could handle in a day. The soldier decided to hang back in the living room with the others, happily chatting away with Sam and Nat.
Then there was Sharon
"Hey Soldier" She winked, giving him a smirk causing the young Bucky to blush, throwing her a flirty smile right back.
"Nice to meet ya' doll" Bucky drawled out making her giggle, his lip catching between his teeth when she flipped her hair back.
"Aren't you sweet" She whispered, her heart beating a little faster when he moved towards her, his sweet baby blues gazing down at her intently. She'd tried a million times to get Bucky's attention before and he didn't look at her twice. She wasn't about to lose her chance with the new one.
"Look whose talking" Bucky chuckled back, his naturally flirty nature taking over with ease, after all it would be rude for him to ignore her.
"Someone's gotta protect him from this randy she goat" Sam whispered while Nat snorted, watching the two of them continuing to flirt, Sharon's hands toying with the buttons on Bucky's uniform, making her way up to brush his collar.
There was no way she was going to just let the gorgeous soldier go.
The machine wasn't fixed any time soon so Bucky was given a room to stay in. He loved the feeling of modern day sweats, looking cute as ever in some comfy joggers and a cotton tshirt, his fluffy cropped hair always neatly brushed and face shaven.
He was a Sargent after all. He always looked his best, even in lounge clothing.
There hadn't been a day where Sharon left Bucky alone. She clung onto his side, practically crawling up his leg day in and day out while the others side eyed the situation, keeping an eye out for the innocent Bucky.
"So, what's a soldier like you doin' without a girl, hm?" Sharon teased, pressing her hand to his chest, loving the way Bucky flirted back with her while the both of them sat in the common room with a movie playing in the background. Tony, Nat and Sam glanced at each other, quietly watching from their place in the kitchen while the blonde continued to giggle and blush, running her finger's through his hair.
"How do you keep your hair so soft, Sargent"
"Well, I- woah"
Sharon frowned when the soldier stopped talking half way after something- or someone- caught his attention. His eyes grew wide, a classic boyish smile appearing on his face when he saw the prettiest dame he'd ever laid his eyes on walk by the living room, making his heart flutter.
"who was THAT" Bucky stared in awe, seeing her stretch her arms up, still in some type of modern tactical suit, rubbing sleep from her eyes and yet she was still one of the most beautiful women he'd ever seen.
"Uh-excuse me" Sharon's face twisted watching Bucky stare are you like a love struck puppy, nearly jumping over the sofa so he could run and talk to you. He didn't take his eyes off you, practically swooning when he saw you pack away the gun from you holster.
"Huh-yeah, sorry-" Bucky mumbled, still focused on you, unbothered by the way Sharon's face was now red with embarrassment, seething at what he was doing.
"Look at this guy, he's not even hiding the fact that he's staring at y/n" Sam snorted while Tony and Nat snickered, watching the young Bucky watch you with heart eyes, "Aw man, he's got it bad"
"Hey y/n, looks like someone's got a little crush on you" Nat whispered, discreetly nodding to the living room. You nearly squeaked in surprise, seeing a very very young version of your boyfriend sitting on the couch, taking peeks over at you whilst ignoring the blonde who was still fighting for his attention.
"Tony, you did this, didn't you" You sighed while Tony smiled proudly, now fully invested in how all this was going to play out.
"I'll explain later. Go wash and change and you can talk to him"
As soon as you were out of the kitchen, Bucky scrambled to the group, cheeks tinted pink, bashful as ever, looking at the three smirking faces, wiggling their eyebrows at him.
"See something you like, soldier?" Nat prodded while Bucky nearly giggled, nodding.
"Who was that" He asked in earnest, truly curious to at least get your name.
"That would be y/n. I'll introduce you once she's back down. You might be her type, y'know" Sam winked knowing damn well he was your type. After all you were technically already dating. Bucky bounced on his heels, waiting patiently while Sharon huffed, refusing to move from her spot on the couch. You made your way back down after a shower to see an exited Sam and a shy Bucky along with a smug Tony and Nat.
"Y/n, meet young Buck" Sam smiled while you held your hand out, swooning at the way he shook it gently, throwing you smile few got to see, one he had when he got butterflies in his belly.
"Nice to meet you Sarge"
"Pleasures all mine, angel" Bucky whispered, leading you off to the living room to talk to you more, offering you a seat, wondering if you wanted anything to snack on or drink, forgetting Sharon's existence entirely. Sharon nearly opened her mouth to say something, immediately shutting it with a satisfied smirk seeing the other Bucky walk in followed by Steve. Hopefully he'd see his girlfriend was a cheating whore, flirting with someone else even if it was him from the past. Her brain wracked itself in hopes that this would all crash and burn while Bucky frowned the closer he got.
"What the fuck Stark" Bucky scrunched his face walking in on some punk flirting with his girl, only to realize said punk was a younger version of him.
"Relax, I'll fuse you two together" Tony shrugged while Bucky's face twisted again, grumbling when his younger self kissed you hand again, pulling you up for a dance while fumbling with a phone he'd just managed to figure out.
"They're cute" Steve grinned, nudging Bucky playfully while Bucky rolled his eyes, smiling to himself a little while later when you caught his eyes, throwing him a wink. You laid your head against the young soldiers chest while he swayed with you, unaware that he was being watched by everyone else, in his own world with just you in it.
"You better fuse us together" Bucky hissed, narrowing his eyes when you giggled at something that was whispered in you ear; Tony snorted with a shit eating grin on his face.
"Why Barnes, scared of a little competition?"
Before Bucky could retort, Sharon was up and walking with purpose, stalking right towards Bucky.
"Y'know they're both flirting hard, right? Aren't you two dating?"
Bucky wordlessly stared at her while the others looked at her with confusion, the desperation becoming embarrassing.
"Sharon, shut up" Sam deadpanned while her mouth gaped open and shut before storming off.
"Back to what I was saying. Scared, Barnes?"
"You should be the scared one" Bucky sassed back, knowing exactly what his younger self was capable of; he knew that innocent boyish charm did wonders when it needed to. That being said, even his past self recognized real love, gravitating towards his one true soul mate after just seeing her once.
He watched the two of you continue to dance and whisper, the young soldier tipping your chin up, eyes flicking to your lips, his soft pouty pink lips so close to yours, leaning down so he could press a kiss so sweet-
"Alright that's it, punk get your hands off her!"
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buckys-metal-arm · 16 days
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Comfort
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Bucky x GN!Reader
Description: three instances of Bucky associating someone stroking his hair with comfort.
Warnings: fluff and angst, mentions of illness, period-accurate toxic masculinity, mentions of nightmares, no y/n used, only pronoun used is "you"
A/N: this is based on something I wrote for my self indulgent self-insert OC Juniper, where Bucky tells them the story of the first two memories and then decided I wanted to also do an x Reader with a similar idea.
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1930
One time, when Bucky was young, he was hit with an awful bout of illness. He felt like there was a hundred pound weight on his chest, and he couldn’t stop coughing. Steve kept trying to sneak in to go see his friend, but would be shooed away before he could actually see his friend. Rebecca, Bucky’s little sister, would slip notes from her and Steve under his door as often as she could, trying to remind him he wasn’t alone. One night, when his sickness got real bad, his mother came in to sit up with him. Since it was the Depression, she would be up pretty much every night working on sewing alterations until her fingers cramped and bled. But tonight, she was staying with her Baby Boy. She rubs Vick’s on his chest in hopes of soothing the cough, and sits by his bedside. When Bucky’s coughing gets so bad that he can’t fall asleep, she sits on the mattress next to him, running their fingers through his hair until he falls asleep. She saw how much it soothed him, and from then on whenever he was sick she would stay with him, running her fingers through her son’s hair to calm him. 
1942
Bucky was an adult now, dressed in a soldier’s uniform and trying to pretend he was proud of that. He’d just gotten home from the Stark Expo, and found that his mother and sister had stayed up to wait for him. Rebecca hugs her brother goodbye before heading to bed, but Bucky and Winnefred stay up late talking. During the conversation everything hits him at once. He’d spent the entire day forcing a smile and pretending to be brave, being strong in front of his date, of Steve, of anyone who saw him and saw a young man ready to take on the world and fight for his country. 
When in reality?
 He’s been terrified ever since he learned he was drafted. 
He broke down in front of his mother, telling her that he’s not ready, that he’s scared, and that he hates that he’s scared. That he’s a coward. But his mother shakes her head, and hugs her son tight. She doesn’t tell him to “man up” or that he needs to “get ahold of himself”, just held him and assured him that it’s okay, that he’s not a coward, that he’s not weak for being afraid. She took him back to his bedroom, getting him settled under the covers and sitting at his bedside, stroking his hair the same way she did when he was young. 
“Rest now, James,” she whispered, brushing his hair out of his eyes, “you don’t have to be strong tonight…” 
Now
Bucky woke up screaming, drenched in sweat. He tried to take deep breaths, to calm himself down, but the nightmares that had forced him awake still ravaged his subconscious. 
“Bucky?” He whipped around to see you, eyes tired but still filled with concern, “are you alright, Baby?” 
“Yeah,” he gasped out, running a hand through his hair, “yeah, yeah, I'm…I-I’m…” 
“Oh,” you cooed, wrapping your arms around him and laying your head on his back, “oh Sweetheart…” 
You hugged him close, and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. 
“Can you feel my breath?” You asked, running your fingers along his stomach. Bucky nodded, “good, Buck. Can you follow my breathing?” 
He matched your breaths as best he can, and you held him until he calmed down. Once his breathing evened out, you pressed another kiss to the crook of his neck and smiled softly. 
“What do you need to feel better, Sweet Boy?” You asked, “what do you need to go back to sleep?” 
Bucky chewed his lip for a moment, trying to decide. His mind drifted to his youth, to his mother carding her fingers through his hair and the feeling of serenity it brought him. 
“M-my hair,” he murmured. You looked confused, “will you stroke my hair for a bit?” 
He didn't give you a chance to respond. 
“Sorry,” Bucky's blue eyes wouldn't meet theirs, “that sounds stupid, but my Ma used to do it when I was younger but–” 
“Shhhh,” you slid in front of him, “it's not stupid. Of course I'll stroke your hair.” 
His blue eyes met yours, relief flooding his gaze. 
“Lay back down, Sweetheart,” he settled himself on top of you, laying his head on your chest and listening to your heartbeat. You cradled his head against your body, running your fingers through his dark hair. His eyes were already starting to feel heavy, and he nuzzled into your neck, a little hum escaping him.
“Get some rest, Bucky,” you pressed a kiss to the top of his head as he started to give in to sleep, “I love you.” 
The same feeling of serenity overtook him, and Bucky drifted off in his partner's arms.
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ingramjinkins · 2 years
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 HEY! MAKE A GAME!
Here’s my new free 8-fold I was handing out at the SCAD Minicomic Expo! I’ll have more free copies with me at future shows.
I’ve been dabbling in game making lately using open source & free assets so I wanted to collect everything I’ve learned so far in one place. Coding has been really fun as a hobby since it marries skills I already have with an entirely new way of thinking.
This zine was put together with Electric Zine Maker which I highly recommend to everyone.
EDIT: I have been warned that OHRRPGCE is not good for those with photosensitivity, as it contains huge contrast and flashing. Sorry for the oversight, stay safe.
Transcription in read more
P1
Cover with “HEY! MAKE A GAME!” in big text. Ing’s cat Asher turns around and says “hm?” and then follows up at the bottom with “Isn’t that expensive tho?”. The credits at the bottom read “some thots by Ing”.
P2
A drawing of Ing holding up Asher and talking to him. They say “actually, buddy, there’s quite a few OPEN SOURCE SOFTWARE game engines that are kinda easy to learn!” Asher replies with “so... free? I like free.”
P3
This page is about TWINE. It’s for PC, Mac, Linux and is written in HTML, CSS and Java. Some notable games made with it include Us Lovely Corpses and Egg Baby. Text games, choose your own adventure, and interactive fiction! IN A WEBPAGE!! Asher looks towards the Twine interface while saying “easy!” At the bottom is a note that reads “let me add that learning HTML/CSS is a really great skill to build especially with the growing return to web 1.0 in the face of horrifying social media practices just saying”
P4
This page is about OHRRPGCE. It’s for PC, Mac, Linux and is written in C. A notable game made with it is Franken by Splendidland. Free RPGMaker but more stripped down-- which is good! Was built for creators with no programming knowledge so a great starting place if you just wanna MAKE something. Has its own asset maker built in so you can make the whole thing in the thing. There is a little pixel sprite of Asher in a wizard outfit at the bottom.
P5
This page is about Ren’py. It’s for PC, Mac, Linux and is written in Python. Some notable games are Doki Doki Literature Club! and Butterfly Soup. Ever wanted to make a visual novel, dating sim, or get freaky w it and program a whole simulator? Here u go. Syntax is like writing a screenplay! Extremely accessible (mostly gets difficult when you add branching paths). At the bottom of the page is Asher in a visual novel layout with a text box below him. He’s wearing a suit and petals are floating around him while he blushes. The text box says “A whole can of tuna? For ME?”
P6
This page is about Godot. It’s for PC, Mac, Linux and is written in C. 2D & 3D game dev for basically everything including consoles. This is for WHOLE ENTIRE game development. Much more advanced than the other programs mentioned in this zine & assets must be made outside the program. At the bottom, Asher is playing minigolf and about to make a putt. A notable game is that my brother is making a golf game with it :)
P7
This page starts with a list of Asset Resources. A tiny Ing head at the top says “I have one doll hair” as they hold a dollar looking sadly. The list is as follows: Blender, 3D modeling. Inkscape, making vector images. Atom, simple coding software (recc’d for Ren’py). Unsplash, free images. Freesound, free audio. thepatternlibrary.com, free repeating patterns. itch.io, lots of free/PWYW asset packs are published here! 
The next list is for Paid Software I Like. A little Asher says “Meowby next paycheck...” The list is as follows: Aseprite, for spriting! 1-time payment, powerful but easy to use interface. RPGMaker series, Remember OFF?? Let’s goooo. Sometimes it’s for sale on Steam. Clip Studio, dump Adobe into the sea.
P8
This is the back cover and has the website ingramjinkins.com at the top. Asher has his paws on his face and looks joyous as he thinks about a panicked lizard. He says “Thx ING! Now I can make a game! Maybe one about catching pesky lizards!!” At the bottom there is text that reads “made w/ CLIP STUDIO and alienmelon’s ELECTRIC ZINE MAKER”.
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lanadelnegan · 8 months
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Tattoo
Pre-apocalypse!Negan x Reader (Negan is y/n's art teacher & also owns a tattoo shop).
Warnings: THIS IS THE FILTHIEST THING I'VE WRITTEN SO FAR and it's just going to get filthier from here on. smut, forbidden love, age-gap (reader is 18, negan is 38), angst, oral (female receiving), lots of sexual tension, slow burnnnn.(there's an actual plot this time), vaginal sex, public sex, breeding, slight daddy kink
Summary: After graduating and leaving behind the man she fell for but couldn't have, y/n decides to get a tattoo that reminds her of him. And he gives it to her.
A/n: ugh, this had me in my feels. A "hard to get" teacher Negan. basically you're negan's former student and he gives you a tattoo and things.. well - just read it.
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"Well damn. I don't mean to be sentimental, but I have seriously enjoyed teaching you little shits. I hope you can take what you've learned and apply it to something. Be creative. Oh, and.. don't think about hitting me up on Instagram after this because I don't do social media. That shit is toxic. Remember that, kids."
The bell cuts Negan off before he can finish his inspirational speech. He's always had such a way with words.. should have been an English teacher instead.
Most of the students rush out like the room is on fire, with the exception of a few annoying girls that think he'll jump their bones now that school is out.
"So, Mr. Smith, since you don't have social media, can I get your number at least?" I cringe as she twirls her hair around her finger and her friends giggle obnoxiously behind her.
"Girls. Behave for once. A tip for college? Don't flirt with your professors." He warns while motioning them out the door.
I suddenly realize that my ass has been glued to my seat this entire time and I'm the only one still here. I quickly get up and throw my backpack over one shoulder. He stares at me from the doorway but I just look down as I walk towards him.
"Bye Mr. Smith."
"Nice try. Sit down." He shuts his door and walks back into the room pointing towards my chair for me to sit.
"Mr. Smith, y/n?" He mocks. "Seriously?"
I never call him that. He's always been Negan to me.
I've known him for 4 years now. He's the only art teacher at Alexandria High, and even though I have no interest in art, I've taken his class every year because I do have an interest.. in him.
What he doesn't know is that I've been making mental notes everyday for the past four years about all his interests, personal life, hobbies, you name it.
He loves the color red - because it's the only color expo marker he writes in.
His favorite lunch is two cigarettes and coke zero. I hate that he smokes.
He stopped coaching baseball last year because he said he didn't have time anymore. But I think it's actually because he's never cared for it to begin with.
He had a wife, but she passed away. Some kind of cancer. She's still his computer wallpaper, which tells me he still hasn't moved on even though it was six years ago. My heart hurts for him.
He wasn't lying - he doesn't have social media....I would have found it.
He sits at another student's desk right next to mine with his body facing me.
"You gonna tell me why the hell you look like your best fucking friend just died?"
I stare at the floor next to his shoes and try to think about anything other than fact that I'm never going to see him again.
"Look at me."
I slowly lift my eyes to his and can't stop the tear that escapes the second I see his face.
"Ah, shit." His expression turns serious when he notices my tears. "Look, kid. I -"
"Stop calling me kid." I snap.
He chuckles. "Hate to break it to ya y/n, but you are very much a kid in my eyes, which is why this thing -" he motions his hand towards me. "this.. crush you have on me - has to end today."
My eyes widen as I stare at him speechless. He seriously did not just assume I have a crush on him.
"Did you jus - You seriously think just because a few stupid girls want to get in your pants, it means everyone does?" I scoff. "Unbelievable. You're my teacher. I don't have a crush on you."
He laughs as if we both know I'm lying - which I am.
"Alright, I'm sorry I called you a kid. Now, you wanna tell me what's wrong?"
"It's just I - I'm gonna miss you." I instantly regret saying it.
He nods and looks at the floor, letting out a frustrated sigh.
"I'm sorry. I - I'm just gonna go." I get up to leave, leaving my heart with him. My stomach twists in a knot when I realize he isn't getting up to stop me.
Why would he?
Once I'm in the hall, I turn to take one last look at him. He's bent over with his hands through his hair as if his best friend just died.
Negan's POV: That fucking girl. In my twelve years of teaching, I've never cared about a student like I do her. I care about all of my students, but goddamn it, she's had me wrapped around her finger for longer than I'm comfortable to admit - And I never will. She fucking sucks at hiding her feelings. I knew from the first day she walked into my class that she wanted to jump on my dick. Hell, every girl does. But other girls bat their fake eyelashes at me and tell me how they feel. Y/n.. she's.. obsessed with me. She thinks I didn't notice her doodling my name in her notebook with little hearts. Or that I don't hear her whispering to her friends about the dreams she has about me. Or how she stares at me during lectures like she's on a different planet. And if that's not enough, the girl hates art. Yet she's chosen it as her elective every single year. She has straight A's in every class, but doesn't even try in mine. And yet.. my dumb ass still passed her with an A. Maybe because I'm obsessed with her too.
Back to Y/n's POV:
I cried on the way home that day.
While everyone else celebrated school ending with a party, I stayed in my room and cried while looking at his photo in the yearbook.
While everyone walked across the stage at graduation, my diploma came in the mail and I stayed home holding Negan's lucky baseball bat that he gave me last year.
My last day of junior year, I stayed after school to help Negan clean out his classroom so he could move into a bigger art room. That was the year he quit coaching. I replay the memory in my head more often than I should..
"Why do you have this bat just sitting in the corner?" "It brings me good luck. I hit a home run every game my senior year with that bat." "Your senior year? This bat is that old?!" "Watch it, kid." He rolls his eyes and throws some folders in a bin. "Hmm." I study the bat. "I could use some luck." "Keep it." I look at him confused. "But... it's your-" "I want you to have it." He cuts me off. "Are - Are you sure?" He sighs frustrated. "Do you not want it?" "Well, I mean, I do but -" "Then stop being stubborn and take it."
Ever since that day, his bat has been leaned up against the wall by my bed as a constant reminder of the man I want but can never have.
After a few weeks of feeling sorry for myself, my best friend tried convincing me to do something for myself since my birthday was coming up.
"Y/n, you should.. get your nails done, go buy some new clothes, do.. something. But you need to get out of that room. It's... depressing."
"I think I want a tattoo."
"Oh, okay, yeah. That's a good idea. What are you wanting to get?" She asks from the other end of the phone.
"I dunno." My eyes drift towards the bat. "Something meaningful."
The next day...
Lucille's
The tattoo shop sign reads. I swing the door open, excited for the first time in a month. The sound of tattoo guns and rock music fills the lobby.
"Hey, welcome to Lucille's. Do you have an idea of what you'd like or do you want to see some of our work?" The woman on the other side of the counter pulls out a binder.
"Oh, no, I think I know what I want already." I smile and pull up the picture on my phone before showing her.
"Okay, we can do that. Shouldn't take too long either. An hour tops. I can actually take you now in room 3." The so-called "rooms" aren't actually rooms, but rather closed off sections with tall walls on each side. From where I'm standing, I can't see the people in the tattoo chair, but I can see the top of the tattoo artists' heads if I stand on my tippy-toes.
She leads me to room 3 and I sit in the chair while she gets out the instruments.
"This your first tattoo?"
"Yeah, kinda nervous."
She smiles. "I'd tell you not to worry, but, sorry babe. It's gonna hurt."
I appreciate her honesty and just smile back at her.
"So, where do we want it?" she holds the printed off picture off of the tattoo I want.
I lean back in the chair, putting my legs up, so I'm laying down. I lift my shirt up right above my belly button and slightly pull my shorts down, revealing my pubic bone. "Right here." I point to the left side of where my panty line would be but lower.
After I confirm the placement, she presses the needle to my skin and I bite my bottom lip at the sudden pain that radiates throughout my hip.
"Breathe, babe. You got this."
After a couple seconds, she turns in her chair to load more ink into the gun.
"Y/n?" I hear from the entrance behind me.
I know that voice without turning to look. My eyes widen and the girl tattooing me looks at him.
"Hey boss, you two know each other?" She looks between the two of us.
I look back at him and see him nod at her. "I'll finish her up, Ruby. Thanks." He takes the tattoo gun from her and sits in her chair when she gets up to leave. The scent of leather and cigarettes fills the small room and I realize how much I missed it.
He pauses when he looks down at my skin and I can't tell if he's staring because of my tattoo of choice or because I'm almost completely exposed. If I didn't just shave, half of my pubic hair would be on display to him.
The way he's looking at my skin wakes the butterflies in my stomach and I have to mentally tell myself not to clench my legs together. He looks up at me through heavy eyelids and for the first time in four years, I'm unable to read him. I can't tell if he's disappointed, mad... or turned on...?
He looks back at the tattoo and shakes his head, sighing.
Okay, it's definitely a look of disappointment.
"You realize I have to finish this now that she's already started it, right?" He studies the lines already permanently marked in my skin. The faint purple lines of where the sticker was placed give away the complete outline of what the tattoo will be. "There's still time to change it though."
"What? What do you mean.. change it? I want this one."
"No." Is all he says and my eyes widen in shock at him.
"You can't tell me what to do Negan. I'm an adult, and I'm getting it."
"Why?" He snaps, frustration dripping from his tone.
He looks into my eyes for the first time since he's been in the room and the butterflies in my stomach have now gone wild.
"Because I... I want a piece of you with me always."
He closes his eyes and drops his head. My eyes start to water but I hold them back the best I can.
"Y/n." He shakes his head but to my surprise, he hesitantly places his left hand on my thigh, his fingers dangerously close to the spot I've imagined him touching a million times. The feel of his rough fingers on my bare skin ignites a flame in me I didn't know existed and all I do is stare at his hand.
"Relax." He rolls his eyes and starts the gun. He leans down closer and begins tattooing me.
I have to bite back the moan threatening to escape my lips. With Ruby.. it hurt. But with Negan, it.. almost feels good.
He glances up at me as if he can hear my thoughts and then goes back to gliding a straight line of ink across my skin.
The next few moments are spent in silence, with nothing but the sounds of the tattoo gun and music playing in the distance.
"Fuck, y/n. I'm gonna need these off so I can get to you better." He gestures at my shorts.
My eyes widen but I nod and slide them off, barely breathing now that I'm laying in front of Negan in just my underwear. The way his jaw ticks when he sees that I'm wearing red lace panties doesn't go unnoticed. His favorite color.
He places his hand back on my leg, this time with his fingers completely against my inner thigh. I slightly part my legs without thinking and he pauses to glance at me before continuing with the tattoo.
If he moved his finger half an inch upwards, he would be touching me.
"I never knew you worked at a tattoo shop." I break the silence, hoping to get my mind off his hand.
He chuckles. "I own it, darlin'. And there's a lot you don't know about me."
Another long pause happens before he speaks first this time.
"Why did you take art, y/n?"
"Uh.. I dunno, because I liked it."
He huffs out a laugh. "You liked it... or me?"
I shrug. "Both."
His face turns serious again and he stops the tattoo gun. "All done."
He backs away and motions for me to stand up and look in the mirror in the corner. I stand in front of it, but don't even notice my tattoo because my eyes catch Negan in the mirror staring at my ass. These panties don't leave much to the imagination and my cheeks redden at how much I'm exposed to him.
He suddenly looks up and makes eye contact with me in the mirror. His eyes are darker than usual and filled with lust.
"Come here." He demands and I obey, walking towards him.
Once I'm standing in front of him, he lifts his hands to grab my hips. My belly button is eye level to him and I look down, watching him intensely. His thumbs dig into my hips and he looks at the tattoo.
"Do you like it?" I ask him.
He ignores me and it makes my heart break a little more. "Lay back down, y/n." He gets up to pull the curtain over the entrance of the room.
I do as he says and he comes back, placing a clear tape bandage over the fresh tattoo.
He looks as if he's deep in thought before suddenly sliding his hands underneath my thighs and pulling me closer to him. He pushes my leg aside and rests my other foot in his lap until my legs are completely spread apart in front of him.
"You want me to touch you, y/n? Is that what you want?"
"Yes.."
"Tell me what you want, baby."
"Your mouth."
He chuckles darkly and kisses the inside of my thigh before sliding his fingers under my panties and ripping them apart.
He shoves them in the back of his jean pocket and wraps his arms around my thighs, holding my stomach down with his hands and leaning his head down closer.
"Look at this pretty pussy, baby. So wet for me you're glistening."
His eyes look up at me right before he licks me and my head falls back with pleasure.
He stops suddenly. "Eyes on me, darlin'. How many times have you imagined me between your legs? You're going to watch me eat this pussy, y/n."
I nod, looking at him and he continues. The sound of other people talking in the distance makes my senses even more heightened.
He licks me again, pressing his tongue into me harder this time. He moans as he stops at my clit and gently sucks it into his mouth. I moan and watch him as he looks like he's eating the best meal he's ever had.
"You taste even better than I imagined, baby."
"You.. imagined it?"
"Baby. You aren't the only one who daydreams in class." He says before dipping his tongue deep inside me.
He switches back and forth between licking me and sucking me until my moans get louder and faster.
"Negan, I'm gonna.."
"I know baby, give it to me." He rubs me with his tongue faster until I'm coming apart. His hand quickly covers my mouth and I cry out into his hand.
"Fuck, doll." He groans and adjusts himself through his jeans. "This pussy is about to make me cum in my pants like I'm a fucking teenager again."
"Negan.." I say out of breath. "I wanna touch you. Please."
He stands and picks up my shorts, but not before I see the huge bulge in his pants. He helps me put my shorts on and I look at him confused when he doesn't say anything.
"Nega-"
"No, y/n."
My eyes water with tears as I stand to finish pulling my shorts up. "I - I don't understand."
"This can't happen, baby. I shouldn't have touched you."
I nod. "So that's it, Negan? You get what you want and that's it.. you're just.. done with me?"
"Are you fucking serious? You think I got what I wanted? I'm standing here with a hard-on that's gonna give me a giant case of blue balls. Any other man would throw you on this table and take you right here."
"Then why don't you?!"
"Because I fucking.. I care about you. You happy now? I fucking CARE ABOUT YOU, y/n. And I'm not going to break your heart."
I wipe a tear that runs down my cheek. "You already did." I grab my purse and rush out of the room, stopping in front of Ruby on the way out and pulling out some cash.
"I'm sorry hun." She says empathetically as if she heard everything that just happened.
I cry harder and lay the cash down before leaving and walking to my car. Before I can open my car door, Negan is grabbing my arm and turning me around to face him.
"Goddamn it, listen to me!"
I don't fight him, I just stare at him, noting the hurt in his eyes. My heart hurts and I suddenly feel guilty for making him feel any ounce of pain.
"Y/n.. look.."
"No." I cut him off. "Negan, I'm sorry. This is my fault.. I put you in this situation because I was selfish.. and delusional. I'm so sorry. I'll leave, and you won't have to hear from me or see me again."
He scoffs. "You think that's what I want? I guess you don't know me the way I thought you did."
Before I can say anything else, he crashes his lips to mine and kisses me so hard and but so softly at the same time. His fingers slip through my hair and his hand rests on the back of my neck as he deepens our kiss.
"You're gonna be the death of me, kid."
I bite his lip hard when he calls me kid and our kiss goes from passionate to animalistic. He presses himself flat against me with my back against my car and I feel his hard cock straining against his jeans. His lips travel to my neck and he bites me hard, right before kissing and sucking the sensitive spot.
That's definitely going to leave a mark.
"You have no clue what you do to me, baby." He says in between kisses. His voice is raspier and deeper than usual. "Do you have any idea how many times I've left work and had to rub one out at the thought of you? Hell, sometimes even at work."
I look around the parking lot. It's nighttime but we're still clearly visible in the lights.
"Look at me, y/n. Forget where we are and just focus on me baby." His hand slips into my shorts and it takes him no time to find my soaked entrance since my panties are currently in his back pocket.
"Negan.." I breathe.
He smiles against my lips. "Baby.. You sure this is what you want? Because once I've had you, you're mine."
I nod and he puts his mouth next to my ear.
"Take your shorts off. Now." He pulls his hand from my shorts and sucks my juices off his fingers.
"But, Negan, we're-"
"I said, now y/n. You want me so bad, you're gonna get me wherever and however I say. Now, take your fucking shorts off before I rip them too."
I hesitantly slide my shorts off while looking around again. There aren't any other cars in the parking lot other than a couple of his employees. All the customers left. There's a main road up ahead but we're far enough away where they wouldn't see us unless they we're staring really hard.
"Good girl. Now take my cock out, baby."
He leans his hands against my car on either side of me, trapping me in. I waste no time reaching for the button on his jeans and unzipping him before pulling out his hard, huge cock. It's bigger than I imagined.. a lot bigger. I don't know how that thing is going to even fit in me. He's so hard that the veins in his cock look like they are about to erupt and his tip is already dripping with precum.
I can't help but run my thumb over the tip to collect some and bring it to my mouth to taste him. His eyes darken with lust at the sight of me sucking his precum off my finger.
"Taste good, doll?"
I nod and he chuckles. "There's a lot more where that came from."
He grips the back of my thigh with his hand and pulls my right leg around his waist.
The feeling of his dick rubbing against my wet pussy is enough to make my knees weak. Literally. I almost collapse at the sensation of him rubbing the head against my opening, teasing me. He presses his body closer to me in attempt to hold me up.
"Fuck, look at this dripping pussy." He looks down between us, admiring the view of his cock teasing my wet slit. "It's about to be dripping with my cum in a few minutes.. You ready for me, baby?"
"Yes, please. I need you."
He enters me completely in one swift motion, not giving me anytime to adjust. My walls are stretched further than they've ever been and it feels like the tip of him is buried up to my stomach.
He doesn't move for a moment, but instead looks into my eyes with his cock all the way inside of me. "There you go, baby. Finally getting what you wanted after all these years and taking my dick like a champ."
"Negan.." I moan. "Please.. just fuck me."
He pulls out of me almost completely before slowly pushing himself back in, agonizingly slow. Our bodies are flush against each other and he kisses me again.
"Fuck, baby." He growls. "You. Feel. So. Fucking GOOD." He says between thrusts as my mouth falls open.
I wrap my arms around his neck to hold myself up and lean against him with my lips pressed against his neck. I take the opportunity to mark him back, grabbing his skin between my teeth and sucking hard. He moans so loud that I glance around to make sure no one heard him, but we're still alone.
His thrusts get harder and faster and the sounds coming from his sexy mouth are enough alone to make me cum.
"Look at me, y/n. I want to see your face when you cum all over my cock."
His hand that was on the car behind me slides between us, instantly finding my clit. He begins rubbing circles on it with his middle finger while thrusting his hips into me faster.
I look into his eyes while my arms are still wrapped around his shoulders tightly, keeping me in place. My fingers run through his dark hair and my breathing goes erratic as I feel myself come undone around him.
"You want me to fill you up, baby? You want daddy's cum?"
I nod quickly as tears run down my cheeks from the most intense orgasm I've ever had.
"FUCK, baby." He groans and slams his mouth against mine. I kiss him back as he rides out his orgasm.
He pulls out of me slowly and softly kisses my lips one more time. I go to put my shorts on and he stops me.
"Not so fast, doll." He gets down on his knees in front of me, pushing my legs apart in front of him. "Push daddy's cum out baby. Let me see it drip out of you."
I do as he says and the feeling of his warm seed running down my legs is almost enough to send me over the edge again.
"Look. At. THAT." He swipes up some of his cum from my leg onto his finger and stands back up but not before gently kissing my new tattoo.
I think I love this man.
He rubs his finger along my lips until my mouth opens for him. I suck his fingers clean and moan at the taste of him.
"Y/n." He pushes my hair behind my ear and looks at me seriously. "I meant it when I said I care about you."
"You care about all your students."
"Yeah, but I don't go sticking my dick in them." He smirks and takes my hand, leading me back into the shop.
The others must have already left when - when.. oh.. shit.
"Negan, do you think they saw us?!"
"Well darlin', I was fucking your brains out right next to the door, so I think it's probably safe to assume so." He grins and my eyes widen with horror.
"Do you not care?"
"What can they do, doll? Fire me?" He laughs and leads me to the back where his office is.
"What are we doing in here?"
"Getting matching tattoos, of course."
I stare at him, trying to register what he just said. "You're.. going to give yourself a tattoo?"
He chuckles and hands me a tattoo gun before taking off his shirt and sitting on the couch in the corner.
"No, doll, you are."
The Enddd.
Part 2 or nah?
700 notes · View notes
trashmouth-richie · 7 months
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𝚕𝚎𝚝’𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚜𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚎
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older! college coach! steve x fem! reader
summary: your mysterious coach was always hot headed and pushed you harder than the other girls, after losing an important game, you both find ways to release your frustrations.
triggers: 18+ ; steve is thirty and reader is early twenties and plays basketball in college. smut, light use of pet names, no y/n, steve is a dick to reader and has a huge one, biting, hickies, p in v no condom. Very slight mention of blood, indication of simp behavior at the end.
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  “Hustle girls!”
  “Box her out!”
  “Are you fucking kidding me 22?” 
  His workout tank was ringed dark around the hem of the neck, glistening drops of sweat travel from the column of his neck down into the gray cotton blend fabric. 
  He was pissed. When wasn’t he?
  A rogue strand of hair escapes from the style he had down to a science, red blotches flashed across his cheeks and neck, veins poked out from his vacation tanned skin. 
  Last night's game ended horribly. And today you were all paying the price for it. 
  -
With only 10 seconds left on the clock in the 4th quarter, the play he had drawn up on the marker board was the exact same one you had been practicing since your first year at college. Only this time you were getting the ball after Mel faked to Blair, with just enough time to shoot that beautiful three point shot you had been perfecting since high school. 
   The squeak from the black expo marker under his thick fingers wrote out his code: Hawkins for the play that was drilled into your brain by coach for the last year. 
  “Run it just how we’ve been practicing, I’m telling you it’ll work.” 
  Mel’s fake out didn’t work and you had gotten the ball late. Each dribble from the floorboards into your sweaty palm felt like a heartbeat. The girl guarding you swatted at the ball, missing just barely as she attempted to make a steal, trying to force you to foul her when she had the ball to waste more time and grant you your fourth foul, ending your playing time. 
  A quick move around her and a cross to your left hand had her stumbling over her ankles like Bambi, and you cut to the three point line, lined up your Nike’s to the hoop like your dad had taught you, and arched the ball into the air. 
  The buzzer was blaring when the orange ball left your finger tips, tongue poking out and your ponytail fluttering behind you. the gymnasium lights were hospital white, piercing your eyes and making you see dots as you landed on your feet, your competitor reaching for the ball at the last second. 
  Anticipation filled your lungs as the ball circled around and around the rim. The girls and coach all rose from the bench and waited with hands on their heads or holding hands watching the ball spin.
  And with a sick twist, it fell out. Landing to the floor with a silent thud as the bleachers erupted into a nascar loud roar. 
  Bulldogs: 60 Pirates: 58 
  He was furious. 
  Clipboards snapped on his khaki thighs as you all sat on the wooden benches of the sweaty walled locker room. He didn’t yell, he didn’t speak to anyone other than glaring into the ceiling. 
  “Pack your shit, bus leaves in five.” 
  No times for showering or debriefing, you and your teammates were hustled to the bus as he snapped his fingers, let’s go let’s go let’s go! 
  Refusing to let the bus driver stop to get water or any sort of snacks on the way home. “They don’t deserve it.” He preened, looking at your sad faces with a disapproval that cut so deep it had some of the girls in tears.
   His mossy green eyes stopped on yours and the disappointment brewed to hatred, his eyes burning emerald, he blew air through his nose and clenched his knuckles, “none of them.” 
  Mel had thrown up twice during Coach’s infamous Hellfire Sprints. Her and her boyfriend Trevor, who was practically your 5th suitemate, had stayed up until dawn doing pulls from a tequila bottle and hitting his dab pen. 
  You hadn’t slept either. 
  Laying on top of your comforter with wet hair and lotion slicked skin, racking your brain with how the shot felt a tiny bit off from your fingers, how coach’s eyes looked like a fucking demon’s when he glared at you on the bus. 
  How the Sunday morning practice, which was usually laid back and games of pig and watching game tape, was going to be hell on earth. 
  “22 if I have to tell you one more time to move your ass I’m cutting you from this team do you hear me?” 
  You rolled your eyes as you pushed yourself faster to touch the black line, beating out the other girls by a full few seconds. 
  After the sixth set of sprints he had you all go to the workout room and max out on squats. Your legs shook and nearly buckled under the heavy weights. And all he did was stand behind you and tell you how pathetic you looked, he shook his head and scoffed. 
  “We’re gonna stay here all day til you rack this up, don’t care if you fall on your ass— you’ll do it.” 
  His breath fanning your ear drove you mad. Spearmint gum and that rich boy cologne he always wore stung your nose as you grunted in defiance. 
  Through bared teeth and burning lungs you extend your legs to stand. 
  You wanted to kick him in the dick, make him shut the fuck up for once, but you bit your tongue. Driving the bar up and slamming it loud against the rack  Looking back at him with a glare in your eyes, you wouldn’t let a single tear wet your eyes, never giving him the satisfaction. 
  He looked you up and down quickly, but his eyes felt like hot pokers dragging against your skin. Before he crossed over to another one of your teammates to add more weight to their bar, he dipped his head, and muttered just above a whisper, “Thatta girl.” 
  -
  You didn’t know much about him but what you did know was that he kept to himself. 
  Coach Harrington was only a few years older than you, he had a small mustache that he more than likely grew to make himself look a little older than he was. 
  From what your suitemates had found out by spending hours scouring online archives from his hometown local newspaper to his social media footprint that didn’t exist— and even going as far to stalking his ex girlfriends Instagram— he had played college ball at Perdue for two years before blowing out his knee and ending a full ride scholarship and any rumored possibility of making it to the NBA. 
  From locker room gossip, you had learned that he drove a black Jeep Wagoneer, and lived in one of the newer apartments downtown. 
  The university had paid double what they had for the last coach's salary to get Harrington through the doors. The athletic director, Mr. Hopper, had picked him to coach because he was one of the best. But all he was to you was a fucking asshole. 
  The other girls had ooed and awed over him, the other teams coaches flirted with him before the games, trying to get his number and find out more about the brooding coiffed hair hottie. And maybe you would feel different about him if he wasn’t such a raging prick. 
  But he wouldn’t budge. 
  He didn’t get personal with anyone on the team, barely even talked to his assistant Dustin. Refusing to call anyone by anything other than their jersey number or their last name. 
  Practice lasted for three hours. And by the end of it his voice was hoarse and gruff. Having screamed practically during the entire time. 
  It wasn’t anything new. He was always high strung and losing his shit when it came to the girls, but mostly you bore the brunt of his anger. 
  He always used you as an example on what not to do. 
  “You’re doing it wrong 22,” he’d bellow, his voice echoing loud across the empty gym, his arms crossed tight across his chest, muscles popping under the strain of his tight gray shirt, “drive to the left then cut right, this isn’t fucking hard… do it again.” 
  You did as you were told, fighting through anger that seeped through your skin and riddled your face with shaking muscles of anger, a twitch to your eye.
  You were pissed and had had enough. Not only were you the youngest captain your school had ever seen, you were averaging triple doubles nearly every game. 
  Showing up to practice early to shoot free throws and leaving late to make sure all the equipment was put away. Spending weekends in the gym running drills or pushing weights instead of at the nearest rager popping pills and snorting coke like everyone else your age. 
  You put in the work and it showed, but he couldn’t see it. 
  It was equally frustrating and heartbreaking.
  When practice was finally through and all of the girls had either thrown up, left mid practice to go to the nurse or screamed that they were quitting, the locker room was an endless groan. Muscles were slicked over with the menthol burn of icy hot, and sore shoulders wrapped with bags of ice. Tape was torn from ankles and jammed fingers wadded up and tossed into a nearby waste bin. Sniffles were heard from some players and you stood in a sports bra and shorts when Coach Harrington entered the locker room. 
  “Don’t get too comfortable, we’ll be back here in 3 hours to run more Hellfire Sprints.”
  The girls groaned and slammed lockers, bitching under the breath. 
  “Hey!” Coach Harrington shouted, a thin vein bulging in his forehead, matching the ones in his arms, as he stood with his hands on his hips, the retro fit of his athletic pants swishing under his thick hands. “You want someone to bitch to? You can thank your captain.” 
  The room falls silent as all eyes land on you. And your breath hitches in your throat, cheeks burning with embarrassment. 
  “Me?” You question, “what the hell did I do?” 
  “The question you should be asking yourself is what you didn’t do. How did you sleep last night knowing you blew that game for your teammates?” 
  A gasp escapes from your lips and you stare at your Air Forces to hide your pained expression. 
  “Now, the rest of you get recharged, be back here at 5 o’clock, I don’t want any excuses.” As the room starts to file out, through the heavy wood door,  Coach Harrington still stands in the middle of the room,  eyes burning holes  into your skull, “22 meet me in my office in 10, we need to discuss your position on this team.” He turned on his heel and headed through the doors, pushing them open with a straight arm and his pants swishing down the hallway, 
  You wait til everyone has gone, Mel giving you a slap on the shoulder, her skin unusually pale on her olive complexion under her charcoal braids, “good luck.” 
  Lifting your chin you nod and wave, throwing an oversized crew neck over your head and pushing your arms through the holes. Gym bag strewn over your shoulder and you pull your socks up a bit before making the long trek down to Coach Harrington’s office. 
  Contemplating what you would do when you walked through his office and he kicked you off the team, your long basketball career over because your coach couldn’t fucking stand you. 
  Never in all your life had you had a coach like him. He pushed you to the limits and started to make you despise the sport altogether. 
  And since you were about to be booted off the team, you didn’t have anything to lose. 
  The gold plate reading: Coach S. Harrington- Women’s Basketball on the large mahogany door nestled between the cream cinder block walls almost made your stomach lurch. He never asked anyone to come to his office, not even when Zoey got pregnant last semester and had to quit. 
  Nerves shook your fist as you knocked on his door, your other hand fumbling your car keys around the silver ring. 
  “Yeah.” He barked curtly, anything but friendly. 
  Turning the enormous brass knob, you keep your eyes to the floor when you step into his office. For being down an abandoned hallway, it was almost cozy. The walls were painted fire engine red to match your school's colors. His college degree was framed and hanging on one wall, along with signed pictures of Michael Jordan that you knew cost more than your car. 
The oak desk was neat with a MacBook and cup of pens and pencils. A markerboard hung the expanse of one wall covered in scribbled plays and code names. 
  It smelled like musky expensive leather and cologne and neatly stacked paper  Pictures from his glory days were on the shelf behind him, and he cleared his throat when you stared at him flying through the air towards a hoop. 
  His hair was messy, tufts of brown sticking up, like his fingers had been raking through it so many times out of frustration that the flexible gel wasn’t holding anymore. 
  He peers at his screen without making eye contact with you, fingers tapping noisily on the keys. 
“Do you hate basketball?” 
  His question has your head spinning.  And when you don’t answer right away he asks again. 
  “N-no,” you stutter, voice shaky and on the verge of screaming at his stupid question. 
  “Sure about that?” He seethes, still not looking up from his laptop as he clicks away furiously on the keyboard, “The way you played last night could have fooled me.” 
  Moon shapes indent your palm as you try to keep it together without ripping his head off like a praying mantis “It was a mistake.” 
  “We don’t make elementary mistakes,” he says slamming his laptop closed and peering over his desk at you through his thick eyebrows, “a fucking third grader could have ran that play better than you did.” 
  Your throat is dry and chalky as you try to stick up for yourself, being accustomed to keeping rage boiled hot in your belly, “I-I’m..” 
His torment continues, pointing around the room at the awards from the last few years, “We’re a nationally ranked team, and your performance last night was embarrassing, and pathetic!”
  A single tear threatens to slip down your cheek, and he notices the watery look in your eye, and licks his lip, but he keeps going. 
  “I expected more out of you, 22– you let your team down last night, and most importantly, me.”
  You burst before the dam does, annoyed and sick of his threats, sick of his constant nitpicking of every move yoj make, “That’s not anything new.”
  “Excuse me?”
  “You treat me like I’m a dog! It’s almost like you want me to quit, you don’t bitch at any of the other girls like you do to me, and I’m tired of it!” 
  “Watch your mouth.” He points, eyes squinted and nostrils flared.
  “No! I work my ass off for you, come in early and stay late. My game has improved and I’m top of the charts for scoring and rebounds, yet you fucking hound me and are constantly cutting me down.” 
  He doesn’t say anything so you keep going. 
  “Last night could have ended with us winning and you wouldn’t give a flying fuck, you’d still make us run your dumbass drills, you’d still wake up and find something wrong with what I do— stop taking your failed career out on me!” 
  he slams his fist into his desk and stands up quickly, the picture frames wiggle as his chair hits the shelf. He crosses the small office in one long legged step coming to stand before you as your back hits against the heavy door,  he points a thick finger into your face. 
  You struck the last fragile nerve he had like a guitar player busting a string playing a solo. Any reserve he had left was gone, his eyes clouded over into hue deeper than a dark forest. 
  His hot breath fans your cheek, spearmint intensely strong with each bite of his words.
  “Don’t you ever talk to me about my personal life again, you got that? You,” he surges pointing into your shoulder, “are supposed to be a leader for this team, and right now you’re acting like a spoiled fucking brat not getting her way.” 
  The tear you were holding back spills over over your lashes and, his eyes break from yours to watch its southward path on from your cheek to your chin. A low grown rumbles in his throat.
  “I’m not a brat!” you scream at him, wiping your cheek hastily,  “you’re crazy, and we all hate you!” 
  His eyes stay moody and dark as he peers into your face down the slope of his nose, “really?” he says no louder than a whisper, “you hate me huh?”
  A thick hand wraps around your ponytail, and his body crowds yours into the door, back flat as it would go despite your curves. 
  Your breathing is erratic, bubbled into your throat with anxiety like you might throw up. His face is so close to yours you can see the definition of each of his eyelashes, and tiny flecks of gold in his eyes. 
  He’s staring at you with pure hatred, like he’d kill you if ever given the chance, and you’re almost embarrassed by the way your pussy clenches.
  “Say it again,” he murmurs, mouth barely moving and barely an inch from your own, his eyes only leave yours when your mouth opens to speak. 
  “I fucking hate you, Coach Harring—”
  His mouth slams into yours with such force your teeth clack together and the taste of blood trickles on your tongue. Your back is pushed flush against the door, likely to bruise from the force alone. 
  His full weight is pressed against you, his taut body firm and rocked with muscles. He locks your hips in place with alarge hand, fingers gripping your skin beneath your sweater.
  Firm and taking what he wants without a second thought, his lips are intoxicating. The roughness of his mustache tickles your lip in an itching way, more than likely leaving a burn behind in his feverish take on your mouth. 
  His hair is soft in your grip, and you nearly roll your eyes thinking about his hair care routine, but you find yourself rolling your eyes in a different way when you feel his cock bulging through his pants.
  Thick and heavy against your thigh, if you had to take a guess it was probably as veiny as his forearms were. And you stifle a moan when it kicks up. 
  His teeth bite at your lip and you yelp in pain, a noise that only drives him further into you, his hand tightens around your ponytail and yanks your neck further back so your head hits the door. 
  His shirt is fisted into your hand and you pull him further into you, sliding your tongue against his—sharing the taste of your fresh blood and his spearmint spit. 
  You scratch at his scalp with your dull nails and he fights back a melty groan. 
  “Such a fucking brat.” He breathes, as his fingers work the hem of your crew neck up, his fingers feel like lightening strikes against your body, and you welcome the dulled pain with a moan, “Need’t be put in your place.” 
  You whine when your sweater hits the ground with a soft thud and the cool air of his office ices over your still sweat slicked skin. His lips suck deep bruises into your throat, and his fingers dip into the waistband of your shorts, shoving them down in a hurry. 
  Expert fingers find your clit and he smirks when you whine for more, “thought you hated me?”
  You pout when his fingers come to a halt, eyes flicking open to see his confidence boasting on his stupid perfect face.
  “But this pretty little pussy doesn’t, does she baby?” 
  “Coach,” you moan out for him, his title on your lips in a sloppy whine make him harder than he’s ever been. 
  His thick fingers dip into the silky warm folds of your pink pussy. The combined noises you make, echo loud in his office. “Fuck baby,” he groans, his fingers sucking up into your gummy walls, he pops them out licks the juicy wetness of your arousal from them. “So wet honey, all this for me?” 
  Your fingers pinch at his sweats and pull them down in a swift motion along with his boxer briefs. He’s hung more than you thought. Making any guy you had been with previous look like something in a funny museum.
   His abs are sculpted and dip into a hard cut v, leading to a small patch of trimmed hair, housing the longest, thickest dick you’ve ever come across. 
  And you were right it was veiny. 
  The pretty mushroom pinked head was presenting a pearl of pre cum, so pretty it could make an angel cry. When you try to lower yourself to wrap your lips around him, he stops you. 
  “Not today,” he groans, fisting his hearty length, your eyes going dumb watching him, brain numb and drunk on him already, “not enough time.” 
  He wraps your legs around his waist and hoists you up against the wall, your bare back stings against the rough cement wall, he’s grabby, his lips pressing heat into your neck, his moan tingling your skin. 
  With a quick shift of his hips, your tight pussy sheaths his thick cock. And you scream out. 
  “Shit, fuck honey..” he’s fighting to keep composure as you are practically lifeless against the wall. His thrusts are filled with purpose and want as your ass is slammed harder and harder into the wall, clapping along like a round of applause, ankles crossed around his lower back at your Nike socks and the laces of your air forces bouncing in tandem. 
  He’s sweaty and grunting, with each pull from his cock brings more deep and pretty noises from you and he sucks into your shoulder again, knowing damn well his mark will last for weeks. One you’d have to explain to your friends and your teammates, and your boyfriend. 
  He didn’t know if you had a boyfriend and frankly he didn’t give a fuck, you were his for the time being and he would do as he pleased. 
  He was fucking you stupid and you were letting him, holding his neck in a lazy grip as he hammered into you, and when you tightened around him, he knew you were close, “look at me,” he begs of you, “you’re gonna come for me, yeah?” 
  “Yes,” you choke out, barely registering what he’s saying from the tight coiled pleasure of your orgasm ready to fire away. 
  His cock drags slow as your eyes connect, yours lazily spilling over with fresh tears, “who’s makin’ you feel this good, 22? Huh?” 
  “Y-you Coach!” you whine, nearly ready to crumble under his thick fingers when he rubs your sensitive clit. 
  “What was that baby girl?,” he croaked, holding back his release, “couldn’t hear you.” 
  “Oh fuck oh fuck mmm you, Coach Harrington! Fuck I’m coming!”
  Your orgasm breaks and it’s like a dam has busted, his dick is soaked by your arousal and he’s losing any bit of cockiness he had left when your face smooths and your lips blur a pretty round ‘o’  as you hum and your body tingles. 
  He follows not far behind you, muttering sentences that make no sense, drunk on your pussy as he paints your walls with his release. 
  You’ve never seen him look hotter, his forehead rests on your chest as you both catch your breath. For a split second he shows you a sly smirk, like he actually was enjoying himself.
  “you might just be my fav-”
  before he can finish, before he can pull out and offer you a towel, a loud knock scared everything in him stiff. Besides his cock that went instantly soft..  his blood ran cold.  
  His face stares at the door, and you stare at him, your grip on his shoulders tighten.
  “Steve?”  
*let me know your thoughts on this, should there be a part 2? I love hearing your comments ♥️
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daysofyellowroses · 3 months
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chilli
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carmen berzatto x reader | 1.8k | 18+ minors dni | tw: language, little bit of smut, men being sassy
prompt was: Carmy would neverrr date a girl in the food industry. Like he needs a girl sooo far removed??? Bc when he comes home, he just wants to roughly fuck out his frustrations and then be with a little sweet angel that plays with his hair and mutters how pretty he is and how good he makes her feel. So what would he do if she showed up to his work by surprise with like a tea or coffee or something all giddy to see him and she got all nervous bc she’s never seen him so angry and brute before screeeaming at the chefs (idea being a “get the FUCK off my expo chef, NOW!!!” Type intense Sitch) and r/ was like “carm…deep breaths, it’s just food bear. Do you need to come home?” And that would just make his OCD spiiiiirallll out bc how can someone so deeply important to him not see that it was so more then just food (even though he’s just a lil drama queen abt his work!!!!) - as requested by @thecapricunt1616 thank you so much for these requests they are honestly a joy to write and i can only hope i do your ideas justice!
not necessarily important but i had nfr by lana on repeat while writing this, i feel like it fits the vibe 🌼
🐻
Of all the people in the world, you never really expected to be with some like Carmy. It wasn't that he wasn't your type, or didn't treat you well, because he was and he did, he was the most amazing partner you could ask for. He was just different to anyone you'd ever dated. In the few relationships you'd had in the past you found yourself growing frustrated, fed up with being treated like some doll that would break easily. 
Just because you were a little more girly and had a soft personality it didn't mean you were totally delicate, that you would fall apart at the slightest touch. You were more than a bow in your hair, than pink dresses and long eyelashes. After your last relationship consisted of you basically being a doll on your boyfriend's arm, you swore it wouldn't happen again. 
And it didn't, Carmy didn't treat you like a doll, like something to be put on display when it suited him. He saw past your exterior, wanted to know the real you underneath it all. Of course he told you that you were beautiful, complimented you and made you feel incredible, but he also teased you and asked about your opinions on things and adored you just as much in your baggy t-shirts and sweatpants as he did in your dresses and stockings. 
It was the best relationship you'd ever had, and you couldn't believe your luck that you had met him. The two of you just clicked, everything fell into place from the first moment and you had fallen into a very enjoyable routine.
Because you both had busy schedules, you set aside one day every week to have a proper date, it could be going out for dinner or a movie or just relaxing at one of your apartments. And on the other days, you always managed to find a window for some..stress relief. 
At least four times a week, sometimes five depending on how work had been, one of you would show up at the other’s place, arms immediately wrapping around each other, getting to the bedroom if you were lucky. 
On the date nights, it was all about romance. You would dress up in a cute outfit, take your time to get ready, Carm would bring you flowers and hold your hand across restaurant tables. You would talk about anything and everything, and you would always end the night in one of your beds, it was sweet and romantic and tender.
Then on the other nights..you both knew what you wanted. Most times you just threw a long coat over your underwear if you were going to Carm's, clothes just slowed you down. It was like a different side of him, a fiery passionate wild side you adored. His hand around your neck, whispering the most depraved things in your ear as he fucked you til you could barely see straight anymore. Afterwards you would lay on his chest and stroke his hair, tell him how good he made you feel, how much you cared about him.
It was a routine, it worked, and you loved it.
But sometimes routines are meant to be broken, just a little bit. 
You had a day off work, and after doing some housework you went into town for a little browse around. You weren't sure why the urge came over you, but something in you decided to go visit Carmy at work. You had occasionally gone to the Beef for lunch with friends, feeling proud and stupidly happy when Carm would personally deliver your food. 
After picking up two coffees, you made your way to the restaurant, smiling as you spotted Richie behind the counter. He gave you a wave, but he wasn't quite his usual self, you could sense it.
“Mind if I head back?” You asked, gesturing to the kitchen door. 
“Uh..no,” Richie nodded, not quite meeting your eyes. “Head on in.”
You hesitated for a brief moment before walking into the kitchen, your senses becoming flooded by the smells, bright lights, and mostly by the shouting, specially Carm and Syd snapping at each other. 
Tickets were flooding out of the printer, the whirring sound filling the air. 
“If you just let me handle it, I can do this,” Syd snapped, pointing to the printer. “I don't have time to stand here arguing with you.”
“This is your fault,” Carm snapped, pushing his hand through his hair. “Messing around with other shit when you're supposed to be focusing. Just..just get the fuck off my expo, let me handle this.”
“Oh it's your expo now?” Syd scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Don't stand there and act like I don't-”
She paused as she met your eyes, clearing her throat.
Carm followed her gaze, looking over his shoulder to you. You expected his expression to soften, for him to come over to you. 
But he didn't. 
“Are you okay?” You asked, your heart starting to hammer in your chest.
After a moment of silence, Carm finally sighed, shaking his head. 
“This isn't a good time.”
“It's okay,” You walked closer, setting the coffees down on the counter and gently touching his arm. He pulled it free from your touch and you felt your heart sink.
“Just..take a deep breath,” You smiled softly. “it's just food, bear. The world isn't ending. Do you want to come home?”
The look you got had you turning from nervous to angry. 
Just food,” Carm repeated, rubbing his jaw. “Just fucking food?”
He laughed, mocking and cruel. You felt the anger rising inside you, taking a deep breath.
“You know what, I can't deal with this right now,” Carm threw his hands up, resting them on top of his head. “You don't know what the fuck I have to deal with, and I don't have time for your..”
“My what?” You interjected, challenging him. He didn't finish his sentence and you looked over to Syd. “Do me a favor,” You gestured to the coffee on the counter. “Pour that over his fucking head.”
You turned and walked away, hearing raised voices behind you, clamoring together. You shut your eyes for a moment, refusing to cry. Leaving the restaurant, the air felt cold and sharp on your skin, a determination to get as far away as possible hitting you.
You refused to look at your phone for the rest of the day, shutting it into your nightstand. By the time the lights of the city were lighting up the night sky, you didn't feel any less angry.
When you heard the knock on your door you told yourself not to answer, to let him wait. But there were things you needed to say, things you needed him to know.
Opening the door slowly, you held your hand up before Carmy could speak, taking a deep breath.
“I'm going to speak,” You told him, standing aside. “You're going to listen to me. Get in.”
He nodded, heading inside and holding his hand on his jacket zipper, looking at you.
You closed the door and looked back at him, folding your arms.
“Keep it on, I'll be brief.”
He moved his hand, biting his lip softly as he looked at you. You pushed aside the part of you that wanted to hug him like always, focusing on what you needed to say.
“First of all,” You began, taking a breath. “How..how fucking dare you speak to me the way that you did? How dare you speak to Syd that way, who the fuck do you think you are?”
You could tell he wanted to respond, holding your hand up.
“You think I don't understand stress? That I don't understand how important your job is to you? You can be stressed, you can be angry, but you are not allowed to speak to me that way ever again, I swear to god. Do you have any idea how it felt to stand there and be spoken to like that? Like I'm some embarrassment to you? Nobody treats me that way, you hear me? Fucking nobody.”
You took a breath, trying to calm yourself down, frowning as Carm ran his hand over his mouth, a slight smile on his face.
“Oh I'm sorry, is this a joke to you?” You snapped, resting your hands on your hips. “because I don't think it's very funny.”
“It's not a joke,” Carmy murmured softly, stepping closer to you and holding his hands up. “Not at all. I can't apologize enough for what I did, I swear to you it won't ever, ever happen again. It's just..”
“Just what?” You snapped, your heart pounding. 
“You're..you're really fucking hot when you're angry.”
You frowned at the comment before your expression softened a little, rolling your eyes.
“You are not allowed to be turned on right now. I'm too mad at you.”
“And it's hot,” Carm leaned in to whisper in your ear and you forced yourself not to be affected.
“Stop it,” You sighed, lightly swatting his shoulder. “I'm not in the mood.”
Carm pulled back, his hands touching your cheeks. 
“You deserve the world,” He sighed softly.  “And I don't deserve you, but I can't imagine my life without you. You're everything to me, I hate myself for hurting you, more than you could know. I don't expect you to forgive me, but if you do then I promise to spend every second making it up to you.”
“Every second?” You repeated, moving your hand to his arm, a small smile on your face. “you better get started then.”
“As you wish.” He grinned, giving you a kiss and letting you guide him towards your bedroom.
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mothhball · 2 months
Text
I (still) adore you.
Pairing | Neil Lewis x gn reader, established relationship
Warnings | FLUFF <3 no explicit smut, but nsfw themes and brief mentioning of oral (m receiving). Everything else is fluffy. Possibly ooc Neil. Basic Instinct 2 slander
Summary | You’re trying to tough it out during sex, but Neil insists on checking in on you.
Words | 897
Notes | short soft drabble for this man while I’m in the middle of writing more filth with Jon. Fic title from ‘Till Forever by Labi Siffre
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You wanted to enjoy this; you really did. At first, you were just as excited about it as Neil, the both of you giggling and grinning as you filled the online shopping cart with some new toys and equipment. You were excited as you checked out and waited for the package to arrive, and you were even excited as you unpacked the items and you got into the skimpy little outfit that you picked out yourself.
But now, in the middle of having your hair pulled and going down on him… you’re just not feeling it. You’re no stranger to rough play, especially not with Neil whose knowledge of obscure sex positions and raunchy practices seemingly knows no bounds. But today, you just feel weird. Awkward and unsure of yourself like you’re handling a dick for the first time in your life.
He pulls his hips back, freeing his length from your open mouth and placing a gentle hand on your jaw to keep you from going after him. Confused, you look up at him with big eyes, only to meet his worried gaze.
“Are you okay?”
The question makes you pause, and despite yourself, you nod. “Yeah…” you murmur, causing him to raise an eyebrow.
“You’re lying to me, aren’t you?” Neil leans down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead, running his hands trough your hair to rub at your scalp and down the back of your neck.
“No…” you try again, even though you’re trying to convince yourself as much as him. Your boyfriend gives you a knowing look, and in that moment, you know that he can see through you completely. You’re his favorite book to read, and he’ll never tire of lovingly thumbing through the pages that make up you in your entirety. At the start of all this, back when you were just starting to see each other, you were a puzzle he clumsily tried to solve. But now, it’s almost second nature to study the way your brows knit together and your lips twitch. Unravelling all those miniscule details has become one of his most beloved hobbies. Like picking out easter eggs in the backgrounds of his favorite films. And even better: it involves you. Just like he wants the rest of his life to involve you.
“Mhmm… I don’t believe you,” he decides, moving his hand to smooth out the little line between your eyebrows with the pad of his thumb. “I know that look.” Neil’s voice makes your heart ache with warmth, but you can’t help but feel guilty when he’s this soft with you while you’re leaving him hanging.
“I’m sorry, I just… I don’t know, I’m just not feeling it. You’re disappointed… aren’t you?”
“Disappointed? Babe, I waited 14 years for Basic Instinct 2. That was a disappointment. You’re fine, I promise.”
He chuckles into the crook of your neck, placing a few more tender kisses right over your pulse until he pulls back to reach for a pillow to prop up your head.
“We’re a team, remember? If you’re not enjoying yourself, then I’m out as well. You don’t need to force yourself through anything. I love you” Neil smiles at you, tracing patterns onto your shoulder and arm with his fingertips before he scoots back. “M’gonna get you a shirt to keep you warm...”
The bed creaks a little when he gets up and steps over to the closet to get you one of his shirts, retrieving his boxers as well in the process. Of course he’s still hard, and part of him wants to make some jokes about it, but he has the decency of keeping his mouth shut. Big boy pants, Neil. Put them on. You sit up slowly when he returns to your side, and he helps you put on the t-shirt, pulling the garment over your head to make you feel less exposed. Neil handles you with care, and his eyes are filled with love as he wraps his arms around you. Slowly but surely, you’re starting to feel like yourself again.
“What do you want to do instead?” he murmurs, resting his chin on top of your head while he runs his hands over your back. “We can watch a movie or play some games? Or we could –“
“Neil?” you cut him off, and he stops immediately.
“Yeah?”
“Can we just… stay here and do nothing? Just for a while?”
His expression softens and he kisses the crown of your head. Once, then twice and a third time. He doesn’t answer verbally, but it’s clear that he’s more then happy to indulge you. Warm hands lay you back down on the mattress, and he pulls the comforter over both of you before he wraps you up in his arms once more. A comfortable silence settles over the two of you, and the tension slowly seeps out of your body as you melt into Neil’s embrace.
“Maybe you can tell me why Basic Instinct 2 was such a disappointment.”
He laughs. It’s an honest, bubbling laugh that makes your insides feel fuzzy. A grin spreads on his face, and he tilts his head down to affectionately bump his nose against yours before he leans in for a sweet kiss.
“I’ll set a timer for an hour. That should get me through at least a third of my arguments.”
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emotionoitme · 10 months
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human, for a minute
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part three of about a girl
read part two here
carmy berzatto x reader
warnings: angst, mentions of a stalker, mutual pining feels, crying, carmen in denial, a hint of steaminess
wc: 4.7k
a/n: angst chapter!!!!! i hope i make u all cry >:) please leave me a comment to let me know what you think! <3 i’ll be posting a spotify playlist link on my page for the series soon. if you’re enjoying the story stay tuned for one more part!
shame - human, for a minute
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the phone rings again, for what seems to be the fiftieth time, blaring through the restaurant in a piercing shrill. clamor of utensils and dishware, the occasional shout of instruction breaking the static noise. the man feels a headache creeping on, trying to force himself to not check the clock again. it hadn’t been long since he last checked it, and he knew he would regret it the moment he did. his eyes dart upwards. it’s 1:35. 
she wasn't supposed to come in until 3, scheduled to close that night, he reminds himself. in that moment he craved the sense of peace she brought to the environment, the noticeable ease in dinner services within the past five months of her employment reasserting her essentiality. orders were smoother, customers were happier, shifts seemed shorter. he also found it thoroughly grounding to be able to look up from his work, through the expo window and watch her for just a moment, not that he would admit to it. he had dropped her off at home on his way to the restaurant that morning, watching her walk up her complex stairs clad in a white shirt and a pair of hanes, both borrowed, and noticeably oversized. 
he cuts back to his task at hand, setting a plate down, drizzling a sauce over the surface, not checking the clock. 
he thinks back to when he had gently woken her hours earlier. slipping out of bed at the sound of his alarm, hand groggily coming to rub his face, making his way to the bathroom. he practically forgot she was there in his tired haze, the memories of the night flooding back to him when he returned to the bedroom, staring at her sleeping form. his heart inexplicably ached at the sight as he gently opened his dresser drawers, beginning to get ready for work. he dresses, mentally rattling off things that need to be done at the restaurant, running his hands through his unruly bed head. he brushes his teeth, locates his keys and wallet, and puts on his socks all before making his way back over to the sleeping girl. 
he wanted to leave her there, come back home and find her waiting there just for him. the man checked the time on his phone, nearing 7 o’clock. he leans over the bed, placing a hand on her side and lightly rubbing. she shifts, blinking awake, meeting his eyes. 
“hey,” he greets softly, brushing her hair behind her ear, resting his hand on her for a moment. she sleepily smiles, eyes bleary. 
“morning,” she responds quietly, looking him over, “you gotta go?” 
he nods, internalizing his disappointment, removing his hand from her hair. 
“okay,” she responds, rubbing her eyes, “i’ll get up.” she slowly sits up, holding the blanket to her bare chest, trying to blink away the sleepiness. carmy notices the slight sway in her seated form, eyes heavy, watching a small shiver pass over her. 
“you can stay,” he tells her, “go back to sleep if you want.”
she looks up to his standing form, tempted to accept his offer, wanting nothing more than to stay cozied up in a bed that smells like him. she rationalizes the situation, though, tying her hair up out of her face. she wasn’t going to overstay her welcome, telling herself, he’s just trying to be nice. 
“you’re not scared of me snooping through your stuff?” she asks, eyebrow raising a bit. he lets out a laugh, slightly taken aback by her question. 
“would you?” he asks. 
she thinks for a moment, head tilting.
“probably not…but you would never know if i did,” she answers, grinning. he smiles in amusement, quickly raking his eyes over her face, trailing down to her collarbones, shoulders, exposed back. 
“do you think you could take me home?” she asks, “on your way to work?”
“yeah,” he answers, “yeah, of course.” to which she smiles in response. 
she goes to get out of bed when she remembers her nudity concealed by the sheet, pausing, embarrassment evident on her face. he smiles at her hesitation, the girl acting as if he hadn’t seen her stark naked the night before. she turns to him, “can i also borrow something to wear home?” she asks, “please? i wanna get back in bed.” 
in that moment he couldn’t fathom saying no to her, immediately grabbing her a few things she could choose from, her selecting a plain white shirt and a pair of his checkered boxers. she gets out of bed, skin raised in goosebumps from the chill morning, slipping his shirt over her head, then walking past carmen to the living room, searching for her discarded panties. the man watched her, entranced, surprised at how viscerally affected he was at the sight. he loved the way she looked in his clothes, debating telling her to keep them forever. 
he tries to ignore the implications of their time together, as he stands over the finished plate, phone on the wall still ringing. 
“hands!” he calls, moving away from the dish, wiping his hands on the rag draped over his shoulder.
fuck, he thinks, what am i doing?
everything had been moving so fast— having told himself prior he wouldn’t pursue her at all, let alone invite her to stay the night wrapped in his arms, mind completely clouded with the thought of her. he thinks to his initial intention, a quick hookup, something to help him let off some steam, alleviate the pressure that built within him the second he laid eyes on her. it didn’t alleviate anything, though, finding himself stuck on the thought of her more now than ever. 
“fuck, can i get some hands, please?” carmen yells out, already busied by the next task, eyebrows furrowed and jaw tight. 
it was like he was trying to quit a drug by injecting it directly into his veins, incessantly tortured by his inner dilemma surrounding her. it was apparent to many that the restaurant required her help, especially amidst a rush much like the one happening now. he knew this. knew that she couldn’t continue to work here if the two of them were to grow closer than they already had, their current relationship being a major conflict of interest, to say the least. 
gotta put an end to it, he tells himself, chest tightening at the thought. he shakes this away, takes a deep breath and refocuses himself on his work. he glances up at the clock again. an hour left. he rips his eyes away, mentally chastising himself. 
i have to tell her today, the thought creating a sinking in his stomach. 
she flings open the heavy metal door, quickly finding safety inside, heart rapidly beating from her rushed pace. she lets out a shaky breath, trying to calm herself. she walks further inside, opening a locker and setting her bag down, zoning out for a second, deeply perturbed by what she had experienced on her commute. 
“hey, welcome in,” she hears a chipper voice, turning to see sydney. 
“hey. thanks chef,” she responds softly, taking a moment to process the simple greeting, tying her hair back out of her face. the girl, heavy in thought, slowly makes her way to the front of store, passing by carmen’s office, his door ajar. 
“hey, chef,” she hears him call out to her. she pauses, turning to the seated man. 
“hi,” she gently greets, attempting to silence the waver in her tone. she pauses, looking at him, debating to tell him what happened. 
“you okay?” he asks, concern on his face. she decides to shake it off, wanting to get through this shift without any tears, go home, crawl under her covers and never come out again. 
“yeah,” she nods, “i’m okay.”
carmen keeps the same expression, tilting his head slightly, not fully believing her. she looks away from him, feeling as if by locking eyes she would bare her soul. he narrows his gaze, studying the girl, and she feels herself cracking. 
“i’ll tell you later,” she compromises, crossing her arms.  
“okay,” he accepts, nodding, eyeing her form before she turns to walk to the front of house.
the man feels a slight churn in his stomach, wondering if she would beat him to the conversation he wanted to initiate. except she had looked pale, almost like she had seen a ghost. he rubs his hand over his face, leaning back in his chair, letting out a heavy sigh. 
the dinner shift that night was hectic beyond belief. broken dishes, incorrect tickets, increased waiting times— the kitchen was tense, carmen rounding off orders, sydney bustling back and forth between stations to assist. the usual rhythm the dinner crew seemed to fall into proved to be virtually nonexistent. the young woman at the front blamed herself for his, her head completely out of it tonight. she had punched in orders wrong, mixed up drink requests, misplaced seating sections. she brought her hand up to rub her forehead, trying to fix an error she had entered into their system, brain pulsing with a headache. she refused to check the clock, knowing she must be only four or five hours in at this point. her brain felt foggy, clouded by the jarring things that had been said to her on her walk to work.
i’ll get some cold water and go take a breath in the back, she thinks, trying to mentally encourage herself through the shift. she quickly walks to the back, trying to be as fast as she can, squeezing through the kitchen and darting for the back room. her body feels hot, panicked, as she nears the last turn.
“corner!” she hears all too late, slamming face first into a firm chest, the impact knocking the air out of her lungs for a moment. 
“shit!” he curses, tightly grabbing her hips on instinct to steady her. she lets out a labored breath, bringing her head up to her forehead, pounding even harder. she looks up to meet carmy’s gaze, embarrassment on her face.
“corner, chef?” he asks, brow creased, letting his hands linger for a moment before letting go of her. 
“i’m sorry, chef,” she breathes out, tears brimming at her eyes, a waver in her tone. the frustration on his face is replaced by a look of concern, bringing his hand to touch her arm. 
“hey,” he says softly, “you alright?” 
she takes a deep breath, knot heavy at the back of her throat. 
“i’m alright,” she answers gently, “i just need a second.”  
he softly says her name, deeply searching her eyes as if they would present to him all her troubles. 
“i just don’t wanna think about it right now,” she whispers, lip beginning to tremble. 
“okay, sweetheart, that’s fine,” he reassures her, the name slipping off his tongue unintentionally. she wants to cry, dive into his arms hearing his soft tone, quickly wiping a tear before it can slip down her face. 
“why don’t you go sit in the office, huh? take a breather,” he suggests. 
she nods, looking down to her shoes. he gives her arm a soft pat before removing it altogether, walking past her to the kitchen. the sight of her anguish was admittedly difficult for carmen to see, his mind rattling with possibilities of what could be upsetting her so badly. he waited in anticipation for closing time, trying to keep a close eye on the girl throughout the night, who seemed to be falling back into rhythm after her short break. the last three hours of business wrapped up quickly, staff numbers dwindling more and more as the night progressed. carmy spent the last thirty minutes of the night in his confined office, sorting through licenses and finalizing next week’s schedule into the system. he turns the computer off, closing his eyes for a moment to alleviate the strain he felt, reveling in the quiet. rising from the chair and stretching, he walks through the small office door, turning the corner to come into the kitchen. his eyes land on her, wiping the pristine flat top with a dry rag. she looks up at the movement, hard gaze softening at the sight of him. 
“hey,” she greets softly, “i’m all done. just finishing the counters.”
“looks great, thank you,” he returns, nodding. she gives a small smile at the praise but he can still notice a heaviness upon her demeanor, eyes more dull than they usually are. 
“i’m, uh, just gonna smoke,” he continues, “then i’ll take you home, alright?”
she nods. “thank you,” meeting his gaze, drifting her eyes over his incredibly handsome face. she doesn’t make any small talk, drying the last wet spot and walking to the back to toss the dirty towel in a hamper. carmen walks back into his office, removing his apron and pulling his wallet, keys, cigarettes from the drawer. he then switches off the small desk lamp, coating the room in thick darkness. he emerges towards the glow of the kitchen fluorescents, the girl washing her hands, drying them, and walking to retrieve her belongings out of a locker. they silently make their way outside, carmy turning off the lights behind them and shutting the back door. they both revel in the fresh air of the cool night, a sense of serenity in the silence that engulfed the alleyway. he hears her take a deep breath, fishing a cigarette from his carton and placing it in between his lips. he shoves his hand into his pocket, finding only his wallet and keys. he checks his other one, then the back pockets. 
“fuck,” he swears, head falling back against the metal door, nerves pricking with inclination. he turns to the non-smoker in a glimpse of yielding hope, “you got a light?” he asks. she stares forward, fixated on the same point, leaning against the same door. it takes her a second for her to meet his eyes in a glance, her response delayed 
“lighter? uh, yeah i think,” she answers, beginning to dig through her bag. she pulls out a bright blue bic, and he chuckles in relief. she hands it to the man, his fingers sliding over hers as he takes it from her. carmy ignites the flame, bringing it to the tip of the cigarette and deeply inhaling, a noticeable tension subsiding within him. he goes to hand the lighter back to her.
“keep it,” she tells him, bumping her shoulder against his lightly. he smiles, pocketing the blue object. 
“thank you,” he responds, genuinely, taking another long drag. the two share a beat of silence, the girl unmoving from her position, shoulder flush against his. a breeze sweeps through the street, calm after the storm. 
he clears his throat. 
“so you, uh, gonna tell me what happened?” his tone soft, keeping his eyes trained forward. he feels her deeply inhale, mentally preparing himself for the worst. she thinks for a moment, piecing together her explanation. a cloud of smoke seeps through the alleyway from carmen. 
“you know how i used to work at ricky’s?” she starts. he glances at her, nodding. “well, um,” she continues, “there was this regular that we had, some older guy. he was always there during my shifts,” she hesitates, “and, uh, he turned out to be kind of a creep.”  
carmen turns to her, watching her closely now. 
“like, he would wait for outside for me until i was off and try to talk to me,” she explains, voice beginning to strain, “and, uh, he got my phone number somehow? and started sending me these terrible messages.” the man holds her in an unwavering gaze, his jaw tightening. he takes a drag of his cigarette, watching her. 
“so, i got a new number,” she clarifies, “and uh, a new job,” glancing at him, “and everything stopped.” her eyes start to brim with tears. 
“okay,” he encourages, eyebrows deeply furrowed, but tone soft and sweet. he stubs his cigarette out, tossing it. she takes a shaky breath. 
“and then this morning i was walking here,” quickly bringing her hand up to wipe a stray tear, “and this truck pulled up next to me,” her throat grows tight and hot, “and it was him, carmy,” she lets out in a sob. he instinctively pulls her into his arms, wrapping around her tightly, resting his head on hers. his gaze was fixated behind the girl on the ground, a hot wave of anger burning beneath his skin. 
“what happened?” he asks, an urgency in his words. 
she buries her face into his chest, slightly shaking, tears soaking his white shirt. 
“he said all these…horrible things to me,” she sobs out, grabbing onto him as if he were her lifeline. he puts his hand on her hip, pulling back slightly to look at her, worry spread over his features, tears pouring down her cheeks, face flushed. 
“hey,” he says in a concerned tone, her puffy eyes coming to meet his. carmen tightens the arm around her back, whispering her name, “what did he say to you, baby?” he really never means to call her that, it just slips out. 
she bites back a sob, wishing she could melt into the man— escape from everything, remain engulfed in the soothing warmth of his safety forever. 
“i can’t, carmy,” she cries, shaking her head. he feels a pit in his stomach, anxiety prickling through his body. 
“okay,” he concedes, nodding, “that’s okay, you don’t have to right now.” he scans her face, bringing a hand to her cheek and gently wiping the tears from her eyes. 
“you don’t have anything to worry about now,” he tells her, voice low, “i’m gonna take care of you, okay? that fucko isn’t gonna come anywhere near you,” he asserts, gripping her tightly. 
“okay,” she whispers, the weightless feeling of the tremendous fear alleviating in her chest. 
“let’s get you home, yeah?” he asks her, watching the girl shut her eyes, nodding, a few stray tears rolling down her cheek and sliding off her jaw, bringing her sleeves up to dry them. carmy keeps his hand wrapped around her hip, turning to slowly walk her to the car. he felt an overwhelming possessiveness clouding his rationality— an unyielding urge to do whatever he can to protect her, the thought of another man even looking at her wrong electrifying him with anger. they arrive at the passenger’s side, carmy opening the door for her and helping her into the car as she mutters a soft thanks. he closes her door, letting out a deep sigh, plagued by indecision, catching a glimpse of his reflection in the dark car window. the answer would be incredibly simple had he chosen to go with his heart, but carmen was reluctant in trusting something that had previously brought him only distraction and turmoil. he’s gonna be logical about this, he decides, reassuring himself no good boss should be fucking around with his young employees. he wanted to be a good man to her, too, feeling undeserving of her attention, her loving gaze. he makes his way to the driver’s door, getting into the car. he starts the ignition, pulling out of the alleyway into the street, turning in the direction of her apartment. the short ride was quiet, the exception of a few spare sniffles sounding from the girl. a soft melody played on the radio, drowning out the hum of the road. he glances to her, the girl’s gaze fixed on the passing surroundings outside her window. he turns down the music, slightly. 
“you did good today,” he praises, impressed by her resilience. she lets out a scoff. 
“i cried in your office for like ten minutes straight,” she responds, watching the light of the moving street lamps bleed together. 
“i know,” his voice gentle, low, “i’m still proud of ‘ya,” he tells the sulking girl. she finds herself start to smile very softly at this, the man’s words warming the chill she had felt since being approached by the strange man. he slowly pulls up to her complex, shifting the gear into park, the girl undoing her seatbelt. 
“carm,” she calls, directing the man’s attention to her, eyes expectantly meeting hers. she feels at a bit lost for words, unsure of how to express the tremendous gratitude she felt for him, how to express to him how much she feels she needs him. so instead she just leans forward, throwing her arms around the man, burying her head into his neck. he lets out a breath at the unexpected touch, wrapping his arms around her, bringing a hand up to grasp the back of her neck. 
“thank you,” she whispers into him, “for everything.” 
his heart clenches, a deep ache growing in his chest. 
“you shouldn’t thank me,” he softly responds, holding her close to him, feeling entirely unworthy of the gratitude, knowing soon enough he would have to hurt her— end things completely. 
she pulls back, bringing her forehead to his, closing her eyes. 
“come inside?” she asks him, breath gracing his lips, “please,” she pleads. 
carmen’s eyes flutter shut, sliding his hand from the back of her neck to the side, grabbing, savoring her sweet scent. he feels something ignite within him touching her like this, nose brushing against hers. he wants so badly to lean forward, engulf her lips in his, taste her. he lets out a groan, forcing himself to pull away from her, dropping his hand from her neck. he sighs, hesitating for a moment, fighting against every urge within him. 
“i, uh… i can’t,” he tells her, drawing his gaze away from her, towards the illumination of his headlamps on the asphalt. she presses her hands onto the center console, turning and leaning over it to the man. she brings a hand to his face, pulling him in slightly, dipping her head into his neck to gently pepper kisses along his skin. her hand slides to his firm chest, pressing into him. his head falls back, clenching his jaw, rationality crumbling rapidly beneath her lips. 
“please, carmy,” she prays into his skin, “come make me feel better,” biting to leave a small mark. he feels hot from the inside out, blood rushes through him, a growing pulse beneath his pants. he takes a deep breath, trying to recenter himself, focus on anything but the feeling of her against him. he says her name, sternly, the girl pulling away at his tone, meeting his gaze. he shuts his eyes tightly, running a hand over his face. 
i guess it’s now or never. 
“we, uh… we can’t,” he sighs, pausing, piecing his words together. “we can’t do this anymore.” 
her expression remains flat, brows slightly furrowed. 
“do what?” she asks carefully, sitting back in her seat, away from him. he just looks at her, implication in his silence. her brows set further, biting her lip to stop it from trembling. the look in her eyes is almost disbelief, a gnawing forms deep within carmen’s stomach. she shakes her head, slightly.
“where is this coming from?” she asks, voice quiet. he can’t bring himself to meet her eyes in the moment. 
“i don’t want this to go… too far,” he hesitates, throwing her a quick glance, “I don't-,” pushing his hair back, taking a breath. she brings her hand to rest on his, moving closer. 
“i don’t want to hurt you,” he admits, locking eyes with her, finding serenity in the depths of her irises, his shoulders noticeably untensing, leaning further in towards her when he doesn’t mean to. she scoots closer, her hands cold on his, falling deeply into his cerulean gaze. he selfishly pulls her into him, once more, strong arm coming to wrap around her, holding her against him, her arms coming to clutch his shirt. he smells her sweet perfume, deeply inhaling, feeling almost human for a moment. she pulls back just slightly, her cheek brushing against his, coming to rest her forehead against his once more, almost as if it would ease the pain. she shuts her eyes, inching impossibly closer, eager to feel him pressed against her. 
“i don’t want you to either,” she whispers, tears burning behind her tightly shut eyes. his hand comes up to the base of her neck, carding his fingers up through her hair, softly grabbing. she sighs against his lips, yearning. 
so close. 
hearts pounding, skin hot, faces flush. 
fuck it. 
she leans forward, finally pressing her lips against his— warm, plump, so incredibly soft— the two moaning in tandem at the sensation. it’s almost overwhelming for carmen, his breath hitching at the contact, selfishly letting himself melt into her, the best thing he’s ever had on his lips. he knows this will blur lines between them even more, complicate, hurt, but he didn’t care, their kisses soft and slow, electrifying nerves. he grabs her hair, tighter, pulling her closer to him, gently sliding his tongue along her bottom lip. she accepts it, kissing him deeply, letting out a whimper, grabbing whatever she can of him, desperate to fully feel him against her. her hands fall onto the muscle of his bicep, squeezing, the pressure of his lips hot against hers, marveling at the intensity of the kiss. teeth clash, tongues embrace, pulling, grabbing, each exchanging a small piece of their soul through the heat of their lips. his free hand grabs her waist, slow, hot kisses increasing in ferocity, his mind feeling completely numb to any previous objection. she sucks his lip, lightly, the man groaning deeply, the sensation of her mouth greater than anything he’d ever experienced. he deepens the kiss. her core aches, wanting to hoist herself up, slide in between him and the steering wheel, have him take her right in his car. but she pulled away with a final few kisses, the two breathing heavily, car windows fogging with condensation. he frowns at the loss of contact, opening his eyes, meeting her face, lips swollen, eyes low. 
“you’re right,” she admits, quietly. he looks at her in confusion, needing to feel her again. she bites her lip, a few tears growing in her eyes. “we need to stop,” a whisper. 
his lungs tighten, pit in his stomach. he shouldn’t have kissed her back, he thinks, head spinning. 
she wipes an escaped tear, leaning forward to hug him once more, savoring the feeling of him, safe and solid. he doesn’t know what to say, so he just holds her tightly, for what he knows to be the last time. she sniffles, coming back to kiss his cheek, then pulling away completely, grabbing her bag off the floor of his car. 
“thanks for the ride,” she tells him quietly, opening the door, locking eyes with him, the two with a mutual look of pain behind their gaze. he just nods, not trusting his voice. she steps out into the summer night, taking a deep breath, turning back to him. 
“goodnight, carm,” shutting the car door and walking to the stairs of her complex. once her back is to him, she lets the salty tears stream down her face, knot in her throat, face hot with embarrassment, heart clenching inexplicably. she knew this would happen, so why did it hurt so bad? 
it was never supposed to go this far, but it did. 
small fragments of heart scattering behind her like crumbled porcelain, leading back to the idling car where he sat, numb. 
fuck, he curses himself as soon as the door shuts. he tries taking deep breaths to calm himself, to no avail, the space of the car now feeling confined as if it were closing in on him. 
“fuck!” he yells, slamming his hand against the steering wheel. it was supposed to be the right decision— things were never supposed to go so far. so why did it feel like his heart was shattering beneath the weight of his ribs? 
he watches her trudge up the stairs, her shoulders visibly shaking. 
i really hope you liked it! final part coming soon, and will be a long one! <3
thank you for your continued support on this series!! :)
part 4 - under the moon
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deanscherrypie69 · 6 months
Text
Taxi Cab B.B 🚕🗽
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Pairings: TaxiDriver!Bucky Barnes X Female Reader
Warnings: Smut 18+ O N LY Sex as payment. Language. Cream pie. Not very many warnings. But if I’m missing any pls lmk!
Please do not repost my work anywhere else!!!! Expect for here or wattpad, you have been warned…
Authors Note: this may suck a little bit. This is my first fic in over like a year….? Or longer I’m not really sure!!! But please reblog and comment!!! I like seeing feedback!!! If you have any requests please don’t be afraid to send them in!! SEMI EDITED! Don’t come at me for any spelling mistakes😭💀
🚕🗽🌂🌧️
It had been a cold rainy night in New York tonight. You thought it would've been a good idea to go out to a bar to get a few drinks for yourself, well maybe it was because your boyfriend had just broken up with you just an hour before.
You shiver in the ran as you try to get a taxi to go home, you had drank a little too much, but you didn't care. You used your jacket as an umbrella so your hair didn't get in the way.
"Taxi!" You scream once more. You groan when you watch the yellow car drive past you. "Fuck." You groan, reaching into your pants pocket you pull out your phone, tapping on the screen it doesn't light up.
Dead, just what you needed.
Shoving the phone back into your pocket you glance up and notice a taxi waiting in front of you on the street.
The passenger side window rolls down, revealing a man with dark black hair almost down to his shoulders.
"You need a ride?" He questions from the window.
You smile, "Yes thank you!" Holding onto the jacket that rested on top of your head, you rush to the taxi, opening the door you slide inside.
Shutting the door, you remove your jacket from your head and you put it on the seat next to you.
The man meets your eyes in the mirror. "Where to?" He questions.
You let out a long sigh, "Second street." You smile.
The man nods, and starts the engine.
You could fall asleep, the sound of the rain tapping against the car, and the wipers of the car silently hitting the car window.
But you were pulled out you thought when the man brakes the silence, "Why out so late?" He hums.
You shift in your spot, and glance at the clock it read 2am.
You must've lost track of time
"I didn't realize that it was that late." You say swallowing back a yawn. The man chuckles, he notices you looking out the window, and he had noticed the tight shirt you had on. It made your boobs look nice. He grunts and adjusts in his seat.
"Got anyone waiting for you at home?" He questions meeting your e/c in the mirror."
"No, my boyfriend recently broke up with me." You say looking down at your nails.
What kind of guy breaks up with a girl who looks like that. He thinks.
Looking up at the man you notice his eyes were focused on the road, "What's your name?" You hum.
"Bucky." He says meeting your eyes once more.
"Yours?" Bucky asks.
"Y/N."
"Nice to meet you Y/n." He hums.
The car comes to an abrupt stop, "Here we are." He says turning his body in his seat.
You smiling reaching into your coat pocket, "Shit." You mumble. You didn't have anything to pay him.
"I don't have any money." You softly say.
Bucky laughs, It's okay doll it's not the money i wan anyway." He hums looking you up and down, his eyes linger on your breasts. A cold chill runs down you spine once he looks away.
He turns on the car and begins to drive way from you apartment building.
"That was my stop." You quitly say.
"I'm going to get my payment." His growls.
Bucky pulls into a dark alley way. He shuts off the car. Opening the car door you watch him walk over to the backseat door.
He opens the door, he slides in. Closing the door the behind him. You noticed how it echoed off the alley you were in.
"So, about that payment." Bucky licks his lips eyeing you up and down, it was like he wanted to eat you.
"I- I don't have any money Bucky." You swallow hard, watching the mans eyes grow darker.
"I don't want your money." He says reaching over to touch your exposed shoulder. "I need you to be quite." He whispers he leans in closer. You could feel him breathing on your neck.
"Bucky-" You warn trying to get away, but you couldn't. You turn your body and you begin to tug on the handle do the door.
"It's locked." Bucky says.
"Please just let me go. I have money back at my place." You plead.
'No can do doll." He says grabbing your wrist. Pulling you close to him. 'now we can either do this the easy way or the hard way. You choice."
You swallow hard. You didn't say anything back. You watch as Bucky tugs on your jeans, "Take em off." He grunts, you notice him sliding down the zipper of his jeans, he reaches into his pants and pulls out his cock.
You shimmy out of your jeans.
Bucky begins to stoke his cock, fast. The air was thick and hot his hair was sticking to his face, Once he notices you were out of your jeans he grabs your waits.
Making you sit on top of him, Your head was touching the top of the car.
Bucky reaches under you pulling your panties to the side, he drags to of his fingers down your folds. Causing a silent moan to fall from your lips
"Someone's wet." He growls He drags his cock through your lips, he lines it up with your hole. He grabs your hips to lower you down onto his cock.
A loud moan rips through your body. Causing you to lean forward, as Bucky begins to work his hips. You moan loudly. You drop your head into his neck.
Your eyes wander to the window right in front of you.
Watching as cars pass by the alley way. You wondered if anyone that passed by knew you were fucking your cab driver cause you didn't have any money.
You were sure that the car was rocking back in forth, but you didn't care his cock was filling you up. Almost sending you over the edge.
"You feel so fuckin good." He moans slapping your ass.
"Fuck." You moan biting you lip. You felt your orgasm approaching as he begins to thrust faster, "You gonna cum for me doll?" He questions grabbing you ass.
"Yes." You choke out a moan when you feel your orgasm wash over you.
Bucky's cock twitches inside of you coating your walls with his cum.
"I love you." You mumble into his neck.
Bucky laughs, "You broke character." He groans pulling out of you. Causing a silent moan to fall from your mouth. "I know." You huff.
You slide off his waist and into the seat next to him. "Ex boyfriend huh?" Bucky looks down at your fucked out state, "Shut up." You playfully hit his arm.
"It's called 'acting' for a reason, smart ass." You grab your jeans off the floor of the car and begin to slide them on.
Bucky tucks himself back into his pants. "How'd you get this cab anyway?"
Bucky raises his eyebrow. "You don't wanna know, but I'll i'm gonna say is that the actual driver is knocked out in the trunk." He laughs.
"Bucky!" You squeal.
"You asked doll," Bucky exits the car, "You comin or not."
You laugh and follow suit.
- - - Bucky sets the cab driver in the front seat, he reaches over him to grab something out of the passenger seat, "Here." He closes the door to the taxi.
Bucky hands you an umbrella, "Thank you." Smirking Bucky grabs your hand, "We should totally do this again.."
You and Bucky begin to walk out of the alley way hand in hand, "Yea, but it's my turn, to pick.. and I want you to wear a ghostface mask."
"You gotta deal doll."
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bearbirth · 5 months
Note
You know those agricultural expos where you can watch a cow give birth? What if that, but a cowgirl instead? And she's enjoying all of the attention *very* much. All of those people, here just to see her have her calf? She'd better give them a good show~
I just saw this and it’s been on my mind all day!! I love cow girls~! Let’s do this!!
“Mooooooo!” I can hear labored mooing and moans in the stalls next to me. I’m a breed cow girl, made to birth stronger cows for farms. Most of the other heifers don’t enjoy giving birth, but secretly I do. My short brown hair contrasts nicely with my white ears and tail. I have on a skimpy little cow print bikini and that’s it. My large belly is swollen with a calf that is too large for a normal human to carry. I rub my belly gently, I’ve been in labor since the night before. I walk around my pen, doing little stretches as onlookers watch.
“Mmmrooooooo….!”
I moo out in pain as a sudden contraction hits me. I lean up against a mount made for me to hold onto. As I breathe through it, my water pops. A fluids trickle out of me but I don’t seem to notice at all. I’m too into the process. The calf is coming NOW. The people watching start to gather when they realize what’s going on. It won’t be long till I’m pushing out a huge calf.
“Hoooo… hooooooooo…”
Half an hour after the water broke and I’m breathing hard. The half’s head has passed through my cervix. It’s massive. I’m blushing so hard as people take photos. I’m waddling around, mooing and moaning loudly. My tail flicks happily as I’m watched. I just love the attention birthing gets me.
“MOOOOOOOO!!!!!” I bear down again, the body coming down now. With how large the full sized calf is the head is forced to my entrance. My skin bulges out and I am now forced to squat while holding the bar. My legs shake, I’m excited. More people are watching.
“M-Mroooo! MOOOOOOOO MROOOOOOOOO!!” I push again, mooing as the snout of the calf pushes out. The head follows fast as it crowns causing me to scream my moo’s instead. I look back, seeing everyone watching my entrance stretch. “Mmhhh~! Mooooooo!!!!” I give it another push, wiggling my little butt like I’m trying to get the head out. It’s so painful~! It slips out with a gush of fluids. But that was the easy part. A contraction rips through me soon after and I squat again. The body is massive. I sob and cry, my hips bouncing which makes the bell collar I have in jingle. The body slowly begins to stretch me open. But it’s slow and painful. People are filming me and praising me for my work. I can’t help but push again even without a contraction, my tail moving up to show the body slipping out.
“NNNNRRROOOOOO MRRRRHHHH GAHHH!” I yelp as the massive calf slides out of me. People are cheering. I turn around and do a little polite bow, smiling happily as I sit down to nurse my new calf.
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xreaderanonaccount · 5 months
Note
HIII!!!! is it ok if i can request some smut with Dottore? :33 the webtoon verison specifically pls. And i would like it to be fem reader if ur comfortable with that!! if not i understand.
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Synopsis: Webttore needs to remind you who you belong to after a certain Red hair tavern owner had the audacity to talk to you. Especially when you wear such a pretty dress.
Tags: NSFW MINORS DNI, Afab Reader, Jealousy, rough sex, semi-public, orgasam denial, light choking, grinding,
A/N: YES FINALLY AN EXCUSE TO WRITE FOR WEBTTORE, I have loved this man since the very beginning.
Words : 1.6K
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You were just idly chatting with the owner of the Dawn Winery. You’ve heard about him before as Lord Regrator was talking, well more like ranting, about the owner. He was a handsome man you must admit but you can’t help but to wander your gaze over to your dear lover who was glaring at the two of you. 
“I’m still in awe that you are in love with Lord Dottore.” Diluc’s voice snapped you back into your conversation. 
“Why yes, he is everything I love in a man.” You felt your cheeks heat a bit as you talked about Dottore a bit. Diluc just nodded his head in politeness as he sipped on his drink. The party seemed to be going nowhere and you were just bored out of your mind. Luckily Diluc seemed to be in the same boat so you two chatted it up. You wanted to know more about this Lord Ragnvirdr of the Dawn Winery, just in case you can have some leverage against Lord Regrator. As you two continue a random conversation a white haired man approaches you two. 
“Lord Ragnvirdr, master Alberich is here to see you.” The white haired man spoke. Diluc nodded his head as he handed his glass to a random butler.
“It was nice talking with you madam, hope you enjoy the night.” Diluc smiled gently, taking your hand in his, he was about to plant a kiss on your knuckles before you were ripped away from his grasp. You gasped as you were dragged away from Diluc who he and the white haired man looked confused. You turn to see your assailant and spot the icey blue hair bouncing with each step. You knew who it was, very well. 
“D-Dottore!” You stammered as you were continued to be pulled away. Dottore’s grip was harsh on your wrist as he pulled you through the twist in turns of the Cathedrals till you two were in a very secluded part of the Cathedral. Dottore shoved you against the wall entrapping you within his arms. His ruby red eyes stared straight to your core. His shark-like teeth catching a glint of the moonlight. 
“Dottore?” You whispered, you wanted to say something else but the thought was quickly thrown out as Dottore slammed his lips onto yours. His lips were rough and chapped as he was passionate about taking the air out of your lungs. You felt as his hand dragged down to the slit of your dress trailing up your exposed skin. You gasp as Dottore gives a harsh slap onto your thigh giving Dottore access to your mouth. He plunged his tongue down your throat, you tried to pull out but Dottore used his free hand to take hold on your throat. Giving it a light squeeze. When he finally decided to part you were taking deep breaths trying to catch your breath. You watched curiously as he rested his head on your shoulder. 
“How dare he. '' You barely hear him whisper, you let out a curious what before yelping in pain as Dottore bites down hard on your exposed shoulder. He continued biting your shoulder going up and down. You were moaning in a mix of pleasure and pain as his shark teeth sank down on your shoulder, drawing blood. When he finally finished his ruthless attack on your shoulder he pulled back giving a soft cackle as he admired his handiwork. 
“What would he think, hm?” He smirked as he was only inches from your face.
“Who?” That answer seemed to piss Dottore off as he flipped you around pressing your chest against the stone wall, the cold biting into your skin. You felt his hand snake around your throat again and the other slipping your dress slowly over your hips exposing your now soaked panties. You shivered as you felt his hand tracing slowly up till it was resting on your rear end. He pressed himself against you, feeling his hard on against your ass. 
“Do you know what you do to me?” Dottore started as he started to slowly grind against your ass, “What this does to me?” Moans kept falling out of your mouth as he teased you. The hand that was around your throat slowly trailed down till he was cupping your breast. Kneading it and pinching your nipples through your dress. 
“P-please, I need you.” You whimpered pushing yourself against him. 
“Oh so you want me now? How about when he was talking to you?” Dottore sneered at the mere mention of him. Him? Who was he talking about- oh… the Dawn Winery owner, Diluc.You tried to protest but Dottore slammed his lips back on you gnawing on your lips. Finally, finally Dottore gave you the grace of touching you. You felt his hand push your panties aside, giving your vagina a slight tease, spreading your juice around before plunging three digits straight into your vagina. You moaned loudly into his lips as he set a rough pace, pistoning his fingers in and out. The sinful sound of your juices echo across the empty hall. Dottore removed his hand trailing his fingers down to your clit giving it slow uneven circles. You pulled away from Dottore’s kiss giving a pornographic moan, throwing your head against his shoulder. You pushed your hips back meeting Dottore’s fingers midway, setting your own pace. 
“Please, please, please” You were breathless chanting, hoping for Dottore to give you that sweet release. Your walls clenched around his fingers, the coil in your stomach ready to snap but was ripped away as Dottore pulled his fingers out of your soaking vagina. You let out a high pitch whine from the empty space inside you. You were roughly turned around, your legs instinctively wrapping around Dottore’s waist. You stare as you watch Dottore unbuckle his slacks only allowing for his dick to spring free. Dottore chuckled as he gave a teasing couple of thrust, his dick giving your clit some stimulation. You panted as you watched Dottore pull away a bit, lining up his dick to your hole. You couldn’t watch Dottore plunge his dick into you as he captured your attention again by muffling your moans with his lips. His pace was brutal as he slammed himself deep into you, pulling away till he was almost out and slamming back in. The once quiet hallway was now filled with sin. As the slapping of his balls against your ass and your muffled moans echoed in the hallways. He continued his brutal pace, he pulled his mouth away from yours allowing his soft moans to fall on your ears.
“You’re mine. Mine, mine, mine.” He cackled as he smiled watching his dick disappear into your soaking vagina. You walls are sucking him in more and more, greedily taking his dick like it was the last dick on Teyvat. 
“Look at how good I make you feel darling. You're practically sucking me in.” He smirked as he started to draw circles against your clit. You moaned loudly, throwing your head back from all the stimulation that he was giving you. You can feel your coil winding up again, you chanted Dottore’s name like he was Barbatos himself.
“Yes, keep saying my name. Let him hear you. Let everyone here in this god forsaken country that you're mine. Mine.” He snarled as he picked up his already brutal pace. The stimulation overwhelming you the coil kept winding and winding.
“C-cum, please let me cum.” You were able to get out in between moans. 
Dottore snickered, “You want to come? Sure then, but scream my name, yell it to the Tsaritsa herself. Let everyone know who you belong to.” Obliging with his request you shouted his name to the stars. 
“Dottore. Dottore. Dottore!” You moaned loudly practically chasing your high, which Dottore gracefully allowed. You clamped down hard against Dottore’s dick cumming down hard on him. You gave a final shout of his name before you slouch against the wall. Dottore continued fucking you through your high, cumming a few moments later. You felt his thick seed filling you up and spilling out as he pulled out. You both were panting as Dottore fished something inside his pocket. You tried to get up but was pushed back against the wall.
“What are you doing?” You softly asked, watching as he kneeled before you pulling an object out of his pocket. You shivered as you watched him trace his finger scooping up his cum and shoving it back inside your vagina before plunging something teardrop shape into your vagina. You yelped at the foreign sensation. Dottore chuckled as he got up pulling your dress down. 
“Don’t want any of that falling out.” He gave a wicked smile, as he took a couple steps back. You pushed off the wall soothing down your dress and hair, fishing in your purse for your compact comb. 
“Come now darling, let’s head home. This part is a bore.” He offered jerking his head towards the exit. You nodded as you took a step forward. But you suddenly dropped to the floor, your knees giving out. Dottore was already a few steps ahead before he heard your fall. He turned his head and saw you trying to get up. He cackled as he walked up to you.
“You look like a newborn deer trying to get up.”  You cursed him as you tried to straighten up but your knees were not giving you the strength. 
“Hmph, come now dear. Can’t have you looking like this.” He smirked as he looped his arm around yours guiding you out to the exit. 
“I’m going to have marks all over my neck.” You muttered as you two left the cathedral, the night wind blowing against you. 
“Now people will know who you belong to.” He sneered as he strong armed you towards the Goth Grand Hotel in where Lord Regrator rented out the hotel. You rolled your eyes as you leaned your head against his shoulder.
“And who said I’m going to hide it?” Dottore gave a hearty laugh as you two continued your nighttime stroll to the Hotel. 
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A/N: divider credits: cafekitsune
188 notes · View notes
nightgoodomens · 1 month
Note
Since everyone is coming out of the woodworks today, I’ll share this gem that I found the other day:
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=GlDtwS8a4R8
DT was at a fan expo in August 2022. He was supposed to have been there the day before but apparently had a family emergency. His guard was down a bit and that was pretty clear from his answers.
Around 9:30 mins sb asked about Staged and David said “He [Michael] just wouldn’t get out of my house.” He was on David’s mind.
Another person asked if we’d be seeing him & Michael in something else again, eg. Staged 3? And David mentioned they just finished shooting Good Omens season 2, so we’d see them together there. The moderator then tried to steer the conversation away from Michael (on purpose?) and asked about Neil and what it was like to work with him.
Then, around 12:30 mins the next question was: “which emotional scene did you fake the *least*?”
David was very visibly still with Good Omens in his head. He made a joke at first that he never fakes anything, but then he was short-changed for a proper answer and slipped. He said, rubbing his face and combing through his hair: “that’s hard. It’s probably a scene… where you don’t realise it’s an emotional scene until you’re in the middle of it… I suppose it would be something like that. And I’m thinking of one in particular that you haven’t seen yet, so I can’t tell you about it.”
It’s pretty obvious to me that he’s talking about the final fifteen and The KissTM here, so think about that for a second. Which scene did you fake the least? That one.
(Also, since it was so Michael focused I wonder if the emergency had to do with him, but we’ll probably never know that)
Sweet dreams y’all.
I just 🥺❤️😭😮‍💨
This goes with my theory that that scene snapped something in David and that’s why things have changed so much since. I never knew that he basically said it though.
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urdepressedslut · 1 year
Text
I wanna be yours
♡ Pairing: 40’s!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader, 40’s!Pre-serum Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader
♡ Summary: You were childhood friends with Steve and Bucky. You had always had a small crush on Bucky. But now as your older, you realize that harboring a crush on Bucky is hard. Especially watching him flirt with girls that aren’t you.
♡ Warnings: very cheesy, angst, fluff, mentions of alcoholism, mentions of parent death
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Smoothing down her dress, she took a last look at herself in the mirror. She was excited to finally go out with her boys, things had been rough at home with her dad, resulting in her seeing Steve and Bucky less.
Switching off her room light, she was flying down the stairs, catching herself from falling by the last step.
“Quit running down the stairs, ya gonna crack ya head open one of these days.” Her father announced from the couch.
“Sorry daddy, just excited.” She giggled, fidgeting with the end of her dress.
Standing up, he set down the whiskey bottle, walking over to her.
“Where ya going?” He asked her, receiving an eye roll.
“Dad, I told you this morning.. I’m going to the Stark Expo thing.”
“Oh yeah..” He muttered, scratching the back of his neck for forgetting. “When ya gonna be home?”
“I don’t know, I haven’t seen them in awhile— I wanna spend some time with them.” She said solemnly, not wanting her father to feel guilty for being the reason why.
“By them, you mean Steve and James?” He asked with a raised brow, not particularly fond of his daughter hanging with those boys.
“Steve and Bucky.. yeah.” She corrected him, slipping on her boots.
“I don’t like em.” He mumbled, uninterested and heading back to his spot on the couch.
“You never did.” She huffed, walking towards his sitting form.
Her body sagged at the sight of him nursing yet another bottle, grimacing she straightened her posture and slapped on a fake smile.
“I gotta go, love you daddy. I won’t stay out too late.” She promised him, giving him a quick peck on the cheek.
“Yeah.” He breathed out, letting his gaze focus on the wall in front of him.
She knew her mother passing would be extremely difficult for him, they had loved each other wholeheartedly, truly made for one another. He had gone downhill mentally, killing himself slowly with the aid of alcohol. Nights on end she’d find him passed out, bottle never scattered too far away from his limp grasp. And it was always the same, he’d feed her empty promises that it would never happen again.
She would never disregard his feelings, but she had lost her mom too. She never had time to fully process her mothers passing, having to babysit her almost always drunk father. All she knew, was that she shouldn’t be living her youth like this. But she could never leave her father.
Feeling the familiar burn in her nose, she took a deep breath, trying to keep her emotions locked away. Not wanting to ruin this night, plus she didn’t want to mess up her makeup.
____________________________
Half walking, half running, she was eagerly trying to make her way to her boys. When suddenly, a loud crash alerted her. Walking closer to the alley behind the theater, she spotted Steve in a defensive stance, while a much larger man laughed, winding his fist back.
Ignoring she was outmatched, she sprinted, jumping on the mans back, slapping the sides of his face harshly.
“Hands off him!” She shouted.
Taken by surprise the man grunted from the impact of their bodies colliding, wincing as his skin stung from the hard smacks. Growing annoyed, he reached behind his head, grabbing a fistful of her hair and swinging her around to his front, finally getting a glance at his attacker. He smirked disgustingly, pulling her closer.
“Well, I sure do like a girl with some fight.” He practically growled into her ear.
Thrusting her knee up into his crouch, he released her immediately, stumbling back into Steve who caught her. Doubling over, he hissed angrily, straightening back up to face the two.
“You bitch!” He spat, ready to advance towards them.
Steve quickly shoved her behind him, throwing a wobbly punch towards the man, only for him to catch it and strike him across the face, sending him back into the trash cans face first.
“Hey!” Bucky shouted, pulling the man by his sleeve towards the alley entrance. “Pick on someone your own size.”
(Y/n) seeing the bully was taken care of, she kneels down to check on Steve.
“Stevie, you okay?” She asked worried, grabbing his chin and tilting his head side to side, checking the damage.
Steve embarrassed, gently pushes away her hands, making her frown.
“I’m fine.” Steve tells her, not making eye contact.
“What were you thinking?” She hissed, angry at him putting himself in danger.
“Oh yeah, I just love getting beat up (Y/n).” He spat back.
“Can you just not get in a fight for one day?”
“Can you just shut up?!” He shouted, while (Y/n) was taken aback.
“Hey, that’s enough!” Bucky stepped in finally. “Steve, come on man. She cares about you.”
Steve felt his anger fade at the sight of (Y/n)‘s saddened form. He felt bad for being mean after not seeing her for a long time.
Bucky gave Steve a look, turning to (Y/n) fully.
“You alright doll?” Bucky asked her softly, lifting her chin with his fingers, making her cheeks heat up.
She loved it when he called her that.
“Yeah, I’m good buck. Just a tender scalp.” She replied, rubbing the back of her head, soothing the sore skin.
Bucky smiled at her toughness, pulling her into a bone crushing hug.
“I’m sorry, (Y/n).” Steve spoke.
“It’s fine Stevie.” She assured him, not wanting to drag out the argument.
When he pulled back, it dawned on her (and Steve) that he was in uniform. And he looked so damn handsome.
Steve and Bucky were talking back and fourth, while (Y/n) was practically drooling over his new look. Taking him all in head to toe, and she realized that him like this was doing things to her.
It only took a few extra seconds for her to realize what this meant, and her face dropped.
Before she could comment on her concerns, Bucky had pulled Steve and her to his sides.
“Gotta get Steve cleaned up, doll.” Bucky told her, watching her cheeks grow red.
“Where are we going?” Steve asked him.
“The future.” Bucky said cryptically, making (Y/n) and Steve laugh.
________________________
(Y/n) was shaking with excitement, getting time with the boys, going to the Stark Expo. The night was going great, until it wasn’t. Bucky had brought along two girls, dates for both him and Steve. She was offended at the audacity, spending his night with two random strangers. She missed when it was just them three.
Yes, she realized that Bucky couldn’t read minds and he had no idea of her feelings for him. But that didn’t stop her from being upset, she did however try her best to not let it show.
Unfortunately the girl Bucky had brought along for Steve wasn’t interested, and instead clung to Bucky. Now having two girls swooning for him. The girl holding hands with Bucky squealed in excitement, pulling Bucky along to watch the show ahead. Leaving Steve and (Y/n) behind, dragging their feet.
“Yup.. this is so much fun.” She mumbled, trying to come up with an idea.
“What’s wrong with you?” Steve asked, offering her popcorn from his bag.
“Thanks.” She grabbed some, “It’s just.. why did he have to bring.. them.”
“No idea, but she definitely doesn’t like me.” Steve said, keeping his head down.
“Ignore her Stevie, she doesn’t realize how awesome you are.” She told him, making his scoff.
“But that can’t be the reason why you’re in a mood.” Steve said blankly.
“Sure it can.”
“No, it’s something else.” He insisted, making (Y/n) roll her eyes.
“Definitely not.” She fired back, her eyes locking with a handsome stranger from far away.
“Mhm.. you’ve got that look you get when you have a bad idea.” Steve pointed out.
“Okay just this once.. you may be right.” She agreed, but wanted to follow through.
_____________________
Bucky was talking with the two girls, aware that (Y/n) and Steve had wandered off. He didn't want to ditch the girls, but all he really wanted was to spend time with his two friends. Thinking about it, (Y/n) had been off ever since he introduced her to the girls, and it made him wonder.
Just as Bucky was about to excuse himself, to try and find his two friends. He spotted (Y/n) walking over, her arm hooked with a random guys.
She had watched Bucky's face go from confused to annoyed in a second, making her smirk deviously.
"Hey Buck, mind if we join you guys?" She asked, suddenly all happy and willing to hang with the girls. Bucky tried to force a smile while he glared at the man.
"Who's this?" Bucky asked her, raising his brows.
"Oh right, this is Danny." She told him.
"My names actually Don." The guy corrected her shyly.
"Same thing." She muttered, kicking the side of Don's leg.
Bucky watched the interaction between the two with a confused look, was he was missing something?
"Hey Sarge, can we go dancing?" One of the girls asked, batting her eyelashes. Making (Y/n) clench her teeth.
"Of course. (Y/n) you wanna join?" Bucky asked, side eyeing Don.
"We, would love to." She said a little too harshly, emphasizing the we, making sure he got the point.
Bucky nodded, still confused at her behavior. Had he done something wrong? He didn't understand the switch up. What he was sure of on the other hand, was that he did not like Don touching her.
Before she could walk away, arm in arm with Don, he stopped her.
"Hey (Y/n), can we talk?" Bucky asked her, watching her defensive posture melt and she nodded, excusing herself from Don.
Making their way to a more secluded spot, (Y/n) was the first to speak.
"Can we hurry this up.. uh, got a hot date waiting." She said, trying to sound uninterested with wherever this conversation was going.
"What's going on doll? You've been acting…off." Bucky started with, not sounding like himself. She's never thrown herself at guys like that, and he didn't like it.
"I'm not, just found someone I might like." She told him, crossing her arms over her chest.
"You barely know the guy's name." Bucky argued, watching her cheeks grow red from being called out.
"So? You barely remember the names of the girls you've been with." She shot back, seeing Bucky be taken aback.
Bucky had it hit him there, she was jealous. He tried not to smile, but he couldn't help but think how adorable she looked, at all her effort in trying to make him jealous. Which kind of worked.
"Are you jealous doll?" Bucky teased, watching her swallow and her cheeks grew a deeper red.
"Hell no, and don't call me that." She told him, her heart beating erratically.
"Doll, what's going on?" He asked her again, but less teasing and softer.
(Y/n) took a deep breath, knowing that if she was ever going to tell him, it best be now. She didn't want to wait for him to get back from war, or worse... never get the chance.
"I don't like that you brought those girls around… okay?” She started, looking down at her boots, kicking pebbles around.
Bucky lifted her chin, urging her to continue. Swallowing nervously, she decided this was it. No going back, this could ruin their friendship.
"I wanted to be your date... I wanna be yours." She quieted down at the last part, embarrassed. She knew he most likely didn't feel the same way, and from his silence, her eyes started to water.
"(Y/n), can you look at me." Bucky asked her finally, his heart breaking at the sound of her sniffle.
She inhaled deep, her bottom lip quivering, buried emotions deciding now was the best time to show. But otherwise looked up and met his steel blue orbs, ones that held no judgment.
"I’m sorry for never saying anything, guess I was confused too. But you’ve always had me wrapped around your finger, hate that I didn’t see it sooner.” He confessed, keeping her gaze in a gentle, affectionate hold.
“You want me too?” She asked shyly, not believing what she was hearing.
“Doll, I want you… all of you.” He told her, stepping closer, wrapping his arm around her, pushing on her lower back. Their fronts meeting, she faintly gasped.
“I don’t want you to leave me.” She whispered, a tear escaping through her lashes, but was quickly wiped away by Bucky’s thumb.
“I don’t want to either, but I promise I’ll come back to you.” He declared, pulling her shaking form even closer. “Now i’ve really got something to fight for.”
With a sad smile, (Y/n) stood on her tippy toes, giving Bucky a lingering kiss on his cheek. Making his stomach flutter with excitement.
“Now, why don’t we find Steve and get out of here.” He suggested, wrapping his arm around her waist, keeping her trapped against him.
“What about the girls?”
“Don’t worry about them. Plus i’ve got my girl right here.” He told her, watching her cheeks grow red again, which he would never get over. Loving the effect he had on her.
“And Don?” She teased, earning a chuckle from him.
“Don’t care, you’re mine.” He told her, giving her an adoring look, loving the way he could say she was his now.
Deep down they had always loved each other of course, but now it was something fathomless. They had already gotten a crumb of what things could be like now, and they craved more.
A/N: poor don deserved better😭 thank you for beta reading @foreverrandomwritings 💕
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babybluebex · 1 year
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𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞 𝐯𝐬.𝟐 | 𝐣𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐩𝐡 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐛
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: in new orleans, joe comes back after fan expo and wants only one thing from you (version 2 of blue) 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: joseph quinn x fem!reader (rpf) (don't like, don't read) 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: rpf (real person fiction), smut MINORS DNI, p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie, soft and mushy sex but also a little bit of dom!joey 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.5k 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: ok so i said i'd write a second version to blue where it got spicier, and this is it!! hope y'all like it!
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He was energized as he came through the door to the room, which was unusual. Typically, Joseph was exhausted after a day at the con, and he would usually fall asleep dead in bed before he was able to fully undress himself. You yourself were half-asleep, watching television, when the door squeaked as it opened, and Joe grinned at you. “S’up with you?” you mumbled quietly, and Joe shed off his brown leather jacket and hung it on a hanger in the closet. 
“Just feelin’ good,” Joe told you. He came to bed and kissed your forehead, smoothing down your hair, and he added, “Why’re you so sleepy?” 
“I walked all around the city today,” you told him. “Explored the French Quarter and everything… I’m pretty tired. I thought you’d be tired too.” 
“Not really,” Joe said. “I could sleep, but I’d much rather do something else.” 
“Oh, yeah?” you asked, already knowing what his answer would be. You could see his hard length through his tight jeans, nestled just at his thigh, and you smiled softly at him. Joey was insatiable when it came to you, always wanting to be on you (and in you), and it seemed that even his exhaustion from the second day of a con couldn’t tamp down his desire. “What would that be, silly?” 
Joe snapped the gum in his mouth as he smiled, and he leaned forward, kissing you softly. He tasted like his gum, the minty nicotine gum that he had started to favor as he tried to quit smoking, and his hands traveled down to your hips, shoving the blankets aside to get at you. “Maybe a little bit of this,” he mumbled, gently biting your bottom lip, and you slung your arms around his neck, pulling him back down to kiss you again. “Is this so bad?” 
“Not so bad,” you replied. “Joey, baby—“
He shushed you gently, settling his hands on the bed on either side of you to cage you into his body. It was warm, impossibly hot, against his chest, and you giggled as he bit your lip again and rolled his gum in his mouth. “Just let me, darling,” he told you. “Let me take care of my sleepy little babe.” 
You smiled and let your head fall back as Joe moved his kisses down your neck, sinking his teeth in gently and biting you playfully, and you groaned softly at the tingling pain. “Joey,” you moaned gently, and Joe moaned himself, rutting his hips against your leg. 
“I love when you call me that,” he whispered. 
“Well, you’re my Joey,” you told him, and his kisses became more urgent, his lips skating down to your shirt as his fingers worked to tug it up and off. “What else should I call you?” 
“You can call me anything you want,” Joe said. “Whatever you want, love, I’ll let you.” 
“Oh, yeah?” you asked. “I want you, baby.” 
“And you’re getting me,” Joe said. “No worries at all. C’mere…” His hands fell from you and went to his jeans, shuffling out of his shoes as he popped the side-wound button. His jeans yawned open, his half-hard cock bulging against his boxers, and he reached down to palm at his cock as his kisses resumed their greedy exploration. “Fuck, darling, you do this.” His hand fell from his cock and grabbed your wrist, and he brought your hand to his cock instead. You slipped your fingers past the band of his boxers and let his hot, thick length fill your palm, and you slowly stroked him, trying to see how much teasing you could get away with before he put a stop to it. 
“Don’t tease, darling,” Joe said quickly, catching onto your game, and his hand tightened around your wrist, squeezing, threatening. Or what? he begs you to ask, but you know better than to challenge him, especially when he’s as worked up as he is. 
“How long have you been hard?” You asked, and Joe rolls his eyes as he thinks about it. 
“On and off all day,” he said. “Been thinkin’ about seeing you ever since I left this morning.” 
“Well, I’m here now,” you told him, and Joe smiled, snapping his gum again. You helped him step out of his jeans and Valentino loafers, and your mouth watered as his cock bobbed free from his boxers. 
“Do you wanna suck my cock?” Joe asked, and you shook your head. 
“Well, yeah,” you said quickly. “But I’d rather you just fuck me.” 
“You can suck me off later,” Joe nodded, and he started to unbutton his shirt further to take it off, but you stopped him once the shirt was open.
“I like this shirt on you,” you told him. “Keep it on?” 
Joe laughed, nudging your legs open with his knee as he climbed up to kneel on the bed. He looked so gorgeous like this, naked for you, his delicious cock bobbing as he lazily tugged himself off, his lip caught between his teeth as he watched you take off your panties. You were already soaked for him, and he laughed deep in his chest again as you tugged him close by his hips. As much as you liked the lean figure he had had for Eddie, you adored the little bit of pudge on his hips and tummy, and you always made sure to let him know that you loved him no matter how he was. 
In no time at all, the head of his uncut cock was nudging your cunt, and Joe moaned softly as he caught the edge of your hole with his cock. “So wet,” he whispered. “All for me, love, just for me.” 
“Just for you,” you nodded quickly, your skin rippling with the intense pleasure that you knew he would give you, and he flexed his hips, slowly sinking inside you with a strangled moan. Your hands flew up to his neck and tugged him down into a messy kiss, and you smiled at his minty flavor as he continued on his gum. “You wanna spit that out?”
Joe sat up straight, his shirt falling open to expose his chest and belly, the thin hair leading down deliciously to the thatch above his cock. He smiled at you, crooked and mischievous, and he said, “Nah. I think you like it.” 
“Maybe,” you shrugged, and you hissed as he sank further in, your cunt stretching wide to fit him. “Fuck, Joey…” 
“You can take it,” Joe told you, his hands grabbing at yours and smoothing his thumbs down the back of your hand. Carefully, as if testing the waters, he drew his hips back and started to slowly fuck you, and he added, “My sweet girl, you can take whatever I give you.” 
“Gonna take it,” you nodded quickly, Joe’s thrusts gaining speed. He was hungry for it, you could tell, and soon he had found his rhythm, pushing and pulling for you and fucking you in all the best ways. You could feel every ridge of his cock as he slid in and out of your slick hole, the burn of him inside adding perfectly to your pleasure, and he tugged on your hands, pulling you closer to him. 
“Good fuckin’ girl,” Joe grunted as he fucked you, and you watched as his chest began to grow red with exertion, flushing under his thin hair. “Taking me, just like that… Such a sweet whore, such a good girl.” 
“Joey!” you squealed, your legs tightening around his waist. 
“Fuck, yeah, squeeze me, darling,” Joe groaned, and you hooked your ankles together, squeezing your legs tight around him. He moaned again, his cock throbbing inside you, and you pulled him in by the collar of his shirt to kiss him. His minty breath filled your head and made you dizzy, and his sloppy kiss turned sweet for a moment as he dropped your hands and captured your cheeks in his warm hands. 
“Mmm,” Joe hummed into your mouth, and your hands splayed across his hot chest, pushing the shirt aside so that you could feel his heartbeat against your palms. It was heavy and hard, his heart beating quickly, and you moaned softly into him, letting him drink up every bit of your pleasure. Moons and stars were exploding in your belly and threatening your release with every thrust he gave, and you knew that neither of you would last much longer if you continued on with this frantic fucking. 
And you were right. With a quiet pulse and a soft “Joey!”, you came, the rope inside you snapping as your legs shook around his waist. Your cunt squeezed him and milked him tight, begging him to cum without words, and your eyes rolled back at the feeling of Joe’s cock throbbing hard. “Fuck me, I’m cumming,” he said hurriedly, trying to warn you as best as he could as it snuck up on him, and you cried out when he finally filled you, pumping you full to the brim. 
Joe panted above you as he recovered, gathering you up in his arms and turning you on your sides so that he could better hold you. He was quick to shuck off his shirt and spit out his gum, and he smoothed his hand down your back as you nestled up underneath his chin. “This good, darling?” he asked, and you hummed softly, nodding. 
“This is perfect.” 
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Text
𝙒𝙤𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙄𝙩 𝙒𝙖𝙨 𝙇𝙞𝙠𝙚
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x GN!Reader
Summary: Movie nights with Bucky were always fun. But after a special viewing of Wonder Woman, you realized just how much you love him.
Warnings: Lightest mention of Bucky’s HYDRA days, non-detailed mention of flashbacks, panic attacks, and nightmares. Mentions of WW1. DC movies? This is really just fluff. Let me know if there are any spelling or grammar issues, sometimes I struggle lmao.
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“Come on, don’t be a wuss. It’s just a movie.” Tony groaned as you began to stand up from the couch.
“Ugh, not interested. This is..sickening. At best.” You retorted. Tony had decided that putting on Marathon Man was a good idea. The teeth drilling scene was clearly making Bucky uncomfortable, and you wanted to avoid that as much as you could. You pulled him off the couch, and that’s when Tony decided to open his mouth.
“Your loss.” He shrugged as you led Bucky upstairs to your room.
“Wanna watch something that’s not from the 70’s?” You offered, and Bucky just shrugged.
“I’m sorry. About..all of this.” He apologized.
“Buck, it’s really not a big deal. I didn’t like that either. Yuck.” You assured, giving his hand a light squeeze.
“How about Wonder Woman?” You suggested.
You and Bucky often watched a movie before you went to bed, and after enough complaining from Stark about you falling asleep on the couch, he’d bought you a TV to put in your room. He’d gotten one to put in Bucky’s room too, knowing that you alternated which room the two of you would sleep in.
Bucky had agreed to watch Wonder Woman with you, and you grinned as you cuddled into his side. Often, you’d pick the movie, or at least give him options to choose from. He preferred it that way, and if he saw something that looked interesting, he’d tell you. You’d found a routine in it all, and Bucky liked routines.
“She always creeps me out, every time I watch this movie.” You murmured once Dr. Poison appeared. It was always the scene with that gas mask that made your legs feel hollow. The little scream that the man would make when she’d rip it off him always made you shut your eyes tight.
“I get why.” Bucky mumbled into your hair, his arm around you. Some movies and shows had scenes that were a bit much for him, but for the most part he didn’t mind scary characters or moments.
When the two of you he watched Stranger Things together, there were a few parts where you had to skip to the next scene. Bucky always felt guilty over it, but you always assured him that it really didn’t bother you.
And it didn’t. Nothing that came with being in a relationship with Bucky ever bothered you. Not the nightmares or the flashbacks. Panic attacks, trust issues, paranoia, and dealing with post-mission symptoms. None of it bothered you. Ever. You loved Bucky. Nothing could change that.
“Was it like this?” You asked, halfway through the movie.
“What?” He glanced down at you.
“This movie’s set in World War 1. I know you were born in 1917—but do the costumes look right?” You wondered.
Bucky’s brows furrowed slightly as he remembered to all the way back then. “I think so. But this is in London, right?”
You nodded, smiling at the fact that he’d been paying attention. “Yeah. I don’t know. I was just curious.” You admitted sheepishly, looking down at your hand, which rested on Bucky’s chest.
“What was dating like?” You asked after a moment.
“Well..if it was today all the way back then..” Bucky took a second to think. You looked up at him, a small smile on your face.
“I would’ve taken you out to the Stark Expo, after making sure your family at least tolerated me. And then we’d go dancing together, until nine. Maybe even ten, if I was bold enough. Then I’d take you home. I’d say good night to you at your door, before giving you a small kiss.” He explained. You imagined it, and your entire body felt warm.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He smiled softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“I love you.” You whisper, making sure to make eye contact.
“I love you too.”
“I think there’s another show we should watch.” You said once the movie finished.
“Oh yeah?” He said, maneuvering the both of you so that you’re still in the same position, just laying down.
“Yeah. It’s called Once Upon a Time. It kinda became a train wreck, but it was good for a while. There’s this one character who looks a lot like you.”
“You think so?”
“Yeah. The Mad Hatter. His name is Jefferson.”
He made a confused expression, chuckling lightly. “Alright then. We can watch that next.”
“Good night, Buck.” You whispered, letting your eyes close gently.
Bucky rubbed a few soothing circles into your back. “Good night, dollface.”
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