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pathologicalreid · 1 month

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don't say nothing | S.R.

gemini part two

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: smut (18+ mdni) content warnings: softdom!spencer, "good girl" (you can tear it out of my cold dead hands), alcohol, fwb, oral fixation, consent, idiots in love, praise kink, gun violence, jealous spencer? unprotected pinv sex, word count: 3.73k a/n: posting smut twice in a row who the fuck am i?? anyways, everyone's favorite idiots in love are back. i used the song don't say nothing by del water gap to provide me with inspiration.

part one

please say something, cause I've been growing lonesomer each day

Penelope threw her arms up in frustration as you walked through the front door of O’Keefe’s, “I was beginning to think you were ditching us.” She got up from the booth, letting you slide in so that you were next to the wall – across the table from Spencer.

Things with him were as awkward as ever. The two of you were like a rubber band getting stretched, every time the tension became too much, you snapped and ended up in bed together - or in the academy showers, but that was just the one time. Looking at him now, the rubber band felt taut.

“I took the liberty of getting you this,” Garcia announced, a broad smile on her face as she pushed the glass toward you.

Raising your eyebrows, you eyed the beverage suspiciously before taking a tentative sip. An undetermined liquor slid down your throat as you tried to hide the distaste from your expression. Penelope had a taste for sweet, sugary drinks, it was the main reason she usually ended up puking first at girls’ night.

Spencer noted the look on your face, discreetly sliding his glass of water toward you. Thank you, you mouthed to him, earning a slight smile in return. “So, where’s this friend of a friend that you’re trying to set Y/N up with?” Luke asked, standing at the open end of the table.

In your periphery, you saw the smile immediately drop off Spencer’s face. Feeling his eyes on you, you shifted on the supple leather of the booth and looked over at Penelope.

“He said he’d show up later,” she said, lifting her own glass to her lips and sipping out of the straw.

That was enough for you to know that it would never work between the two of you. You needed someone who was punctual. Someone who wouldn’t ghost you at the last moment. Huffing, you sat back in the seat, wondering how long you’d have to stay out before it was socially acceptable to go home.

You took about thirty minutes before asking your teammates to let you out of the booth under the guise of needing fresh air. Luke asked if you wanted to move out to the patio, but you waved him off before walking out the front door.

The spring air kissed your skin as you avoided pedestrians until you made it to the outer wall of the bar, leaning against the cool bricks and sighing.

“Are you alright?” Spencer asked, walking out of the bar, and approaching you.

Avoiding eye contact, you watched people’s shoes as they walked by – heels, sneakers, sandals. “I’m fine, Spence,” you answered simply as your heart begged you to meet his hazel eyes.

You closed your eyes as he reached out, gingerly placing his hand flat on your ribcage. “You had a close call last week,” he said matter-of-factly, referring to a shot you had taken to the chest while on a case last week.

Shrugging, you opened your eyes again, “I was wearing my vest, barely even hurts anymore.” Spencer had been on sabbatical at the time, but he still came to visit you during your overnight stay in the hospital. You were left with a gnarly bruise to the ribs, and Emily had benched you for two weeks.

Tired of your refusal to meet his eyes, Spencer hooked a finger beneath your chin, lifting it until you could make out the gold of his eyes. He looked through the window of the bar, checking for something before he tugged you further from the glass. You didn’t have the time to ask him what he was looking for before his lips were on yours in the alleyway.

Spencer Reid had a habit of kissing you like you were a last meal, with open, messy kisses that made your lovelorn chest ache.

“Garcia’s friend didn’t show up?” He asked, pulling away from you just enough to get the words out.

Shaking your head, you reached up a hand and threaded your fingers through his hair, “Nope.” You cocked your head to the side as the two of you fell into your familiar pattern, “I’m glad I didn’t agree to the date. Could’ve been a fatal blow to my self-esteem,” you told him while thinking of a good way to navigate your current situation.

He also had a habit of making your mind go blank when his lips were on you, and you almost lost it when he groaned against your mouth, “His loss.”

Your breath hitched when he used his knee to part your legs, placing an agonizing pressure on your sex as you resisted the urge to grind on his thigh.

“Hey, Y/N?” He murmured in your ear before pressing gentle kisses on the side of your throat.

Humming, you bit your lip, “Yeah?”

Detaching his lips from the soft skin of your neck, Spencer pulled away to look at you, “Thank you for not agreeing to the date.”

Your body slouched against the wall, “I can’t do this again,” you confessed. The words slipped out of your mouth too easily for it to be a lie, even if you never meant for them to come out.

Spencer took a step back, removing himself from you entirely, “What do you mean?” He asked, watching as you frantically smoothed down the front of your dress and caught your breath.

“Why do I keep doing this to myself?” You muttered helplessly, once again averting your eyes from the man standing in front of you. Taking a shaky breath, your heart pounded so violently in your chest that you thought it might burst.

Catching out at you, he firmly placed his hands on either side of your waist before you could walk away from him. “Baby, what are you talking about?” He asked you urgently.

There it was again, baby. It was like a key in a lock, causing everything to pour out of you. “I can’t stop thinking about you. Isn’t that funny? You’re there, haunting my every move, and none of me occupies even a fragment of your mind.”

Recognition flashed in his eyes as he processed what you were saying to him, “It’s me?” He said, hazel eyes flickering over your face.

“Of course, it’s you, Spencer,” you said exasperatedly, afraid of years of longing coming out in a random alleyway in the district. Tears pricked at your eyes as you silently pleaded for him to say something.

Bewilderment was pasted on his face as he opened his mouth to speak, shut it, and then opened it again. “The person. Your one person that you’d say yes to. I’m your one.” He clarified, trying to get a hold on the situation.

Nodding miserably, you reached up and placed your hand over your heart as if you could staunch your bleeding heart, “You’re my one, and every time we’re together, you’re thinking about someone else.” It wasn’t an accusation; you knew he had feelings for someone else. He had told you just as much at Dave and Krystall’s wedding. Two months ago. Wiping underneath your eyes, you gathered whatever was left of your dignity and walked away from the situation.

As you walked back to your car, you were vaguely aware of people staring at you. You knew that you had played just as big of a role in your own destruction as Spencer had, maybe even more. You never should’ve had sex at the wedding, but you had sought comfort in one another.

Fishing around in your purse, you pulled your keys out, only for them to be scooped from your hands. “Hey!” You shouted in frustration, gaining the attention of passersby as they wondered whether or not they needed to call 911 or stay out of a lover’s quarrel. Shooting daggers at Spencer, you refrained from stomping your foot in frustration lest you look like a petulant child. “Give me my keys, Spencer,” you insisted, holding your hand out impatiently.

“Not until you talk to me,” he responded. He was out of breath, meaning he had run to catch up with you – a feat in and of itself.

You crossed your arms in front of your chest, “There’s nothing left to talk about, Spencer.”

He took a moment to catch his breath before looking around, “There is everything to talk about. I have to talk to you.”

Weighing your options, you reached out for your car keys, which he let you take, and unlocked the car. “Get in,” you offered halfheartedly, wiping your cheeks before getting into the driver’s seat.

Silently, you started the drive, taking a right onto the next street. “This isn’t the way to your apartment,” Spencer observed anxiously.

You shook your head as you turned on your turn signal to merge onto the highway, “No, it’s the way to yours.”

Residences had been off-limits during your illicit affair, but each member of the BAU had the ability to get to each other’s homes. It was more of a safety concern than anything else. Since you’d never been to Spencer’s apartment before, you needed him to guide you through the lobby and up the stairs. To your chagrin, he did that by taking your hand in his and having you follow him.

Looking around once he unlocked the door, the first thing you noticed was that the space was so… Spencer. From the green walls to the stained-glass window to the piles of books, it all just seemed so fitting for him. “Sit,” he said with an authoritative tone as he made his way back to the kitchen, returning with two glasses of water.

“What do you want to say, Reid?” You said, leaning back in an armchair as you looked over at him, taking calculated breaths.

Disappointment filled his eyes, “Don’t call me that.” There was something in his eyes that resembled fear, but you couldn’t quite place the reason.

Narrowing your gaze, you tilted your head to the side and feigned ignorance, “Everyone calls you that.” You challenged, even though you supposed it wasn’t true.

“You don’t,” he responded simply. It was true, over the years you had never called him Reid. Dr. Reid and Spencer Reid, yes, but never just Reid. To you, he had always been Spencer or Spence. “When you do it, it feels so… impersonal. Detached.”

You blinked, not expecting him to have said that. Your relationship with Reid had always been personal. From back when you were just friends to whatever miscellany of emotions you had now. “I didn’t mean for it to be,” you admitted defeatedly, fiddling with the buttons on your cardigan. Although maybe you had intended to detach yourself from the situation by referring to him with a name that felt less personal.

In your periphery, you saw him looking dejectedly at you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eyes. “Will you please look at me?”

Swallowing thickly, you closed your eyes, “I can’t.” Your voice was no more than a whisper as you admitted the truth, one look in his eyes, and you’d break your heart even worse.

“At first, I thought it was easier for me to just say I was interested in someone else because I was under the impression that you were interested in another man,” Spencer told you candidly. “My idea was that I could keep you close to me until you felt ready to move on, and that would just have to be enough.”

Staring blankly ahead of you, you reached out to grab your water from the coffee table, taking small sips as you struggled to digest what he was saying to you.

You shut your eyes tightly at the vulnerability in the room, opening them to find Spencer knelt in front of you. “What I didn’t realize was that a fraction of you would never be enough, not for me.”

Burying your face in your hands, you avoided his eyes as the gravity of his admission weighed down your shoulders. “Spence,” you begged. He needed to stop. He was toeing the point of no return.

“I am so devastatingly in love with you,” he admitted. “I didn’t know how deeply it ran until the wedding, but I just couldn’t get myself to let you go.”

Spencer pried your hands off of your face, revealing teary eyes. You let your body slide off the chair until you knelt in front of him, knee to knee. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his.

Quickly, he wrapped his arms tightly around you, pulling your body flush against his, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you answered, surprised at how easily the words rolled off of your tongue. Taking your time, you slung one arm over his shoulder, reaching the other up so you could put your hand in his hair. You relished in his groan as you tugged lightly at the strands.

You couldn’t help the whine that passed through your lips as he pulled away from you. He got to his feet before helping you up, and once you were standing, his lips were back on yours.

Leading you to what you assumed was his bedroom, you felt your blood heat up as he pushed your cardigan off of your shoulders. As you reached up to undo the buttons on his shirt, you grinned against his lips.

Sat on the edge of his bed, you parted your knees and pulled his shirt from where it was tucked into his pants before fumbling with his belt buckle. Disconnecting your lips so that you could look at what you were doing, he took the opportunity to duck his head and take your earlobe between his teeth. As he nipped at the soft skin, goosebumps spread where you were bare, leaving you in need of more. More of him.

Once you got his belt undone, you made quick work of the button and zipper on his slacks, sliding them down over his hips and ass while his hands made their way up your dress. “Spence,” you said breathlessly, trying to push his pants further down. Understanding your plea, he stepped out of them entirely, kicking them to the side.

Spencer drew away from you just enough to tug your dress off of your body, tossing it off to the side and gently guiding you so that your back was flat against the mattress. You watched in anticipation as he pulled his t-shirt off, the movement allowing for the tip of his cock to peek over the elastic of his boxers. “You’re so pretty,” he muttered, the softness of the words taking you by surprise, “Always so pretty for me, baby.” He gently traced his finger over your bruise as a shadow of worry crossed his features, but it was gone as quickly as it showed up.

His words spurred you on to pull at his underwear, trying to take them off, but you simply didn’t have the arm span to do it on your own. “I wanna touch you,” you confessed, “Can I touch you?”

“I need to be in you,” Spencer answered, pulling his boxers off before kneeling in front of you, eyes widening when your legs fell open. Expertly, he hooked his fingers in the sides of your underwear, dragging them off in one swift motion and leaving the both of you completely bare.

Your mouth parted when his hand reached your wet heat and two fingers entered you tantalizingly slowly. “I thought- ah- no touching,” you complained. It was a halfhearted complaint because really, there was nothing to be bothered by.

Reaching down, your hand grabbed his wrist, trying to slow his ministrations. “You’re so responsive for me,” he murmured, continuing to move his fingers in and out of you and watching in fascination as your hips bucked off of the mattress involuntarily.

“Fuck,” You said, screwing your eyes shut as that all too familiar knot started to form in your lower belly. “Spence, baby- I’ll…” A low whine escaped your throat as he withdrew his fingers from your core. “Spencer,” you said in frustration, opening your eyes to see him inspecting your slick that had been left on his fingers.

Like a rehearsed routine, he placed his hand in front of your face, prompting you to incline your head forward and wrap your lips around his index and middle finger. As you swirled your tongue around his fingers, he watched you with an undying interest. “Good girl,” he muttered, the praise causing your sensitive cunt to clench around nothing.

Taking his hand back, you looked down as he used his now free hand to line his cock up with your entrance. Laying one of your hands at the side of your head, he used his other hand to intertwine your fingers before he pushed into you. Instead of tossing your head back like you normally would, you looked up at him, watching as he hilted himself in you. “Spencer,” you whispered.

“Are you alright?” He asked, checking in with you as he placed his free hand on the other side of your head.

You nodded quickly, “It just feels different this time.” Your heart clenched at your own admission. You weren’t using each other as an escape anymore.

Spencer hummed in understanding, leaning down and pressing a tender kiss to your lips. “I love you,” he whispered, “I love you so much.”

Your breath hitched as he tentatively thrust in you like he was testing the waters. “I love you,” you responded in kind, your voice higher than usual.

The response was enough encouragement for Spencer to keep going, he tucked his face in the crook of your neck, gently biting the skin as he set the pace. Small gasps escaped your throat every time his hips met yours.

As usual, your sounds spurred him on, seemingly trying to make you as vocal as possible, he used one hand to reach up and grope your breast. While his fingers pinched at your nipple, you wrapped your legs around his torso, locking your ankles together behind him. He lifted his head, moving his lips against yours in hurried, messy kisses that only aided the knot building in your stomach.

You didn’t have the capacity to warn him before you came undone beneath him, your orgasm coming over you as you whined into his mouth. Your walls clenched around him so tightly that Spencer had a hard time keeping his pace before it became too much.

Sighing contentedly as he filled you, you ran your hands down his back as he continued working through both of your orgasms. You whimpered as he continued fucking his cum into your oversensitive hole until your head went fuzzy, “Spence.”

He stuttered to a stop, staying inside of you for just a beat under he pulled out, causing you to flinch as you were left empty. “Are you alright?” He asked, still breathing heavily – not that you were faring much better.

Nodding, you blinked rapidly as your lungs tried to catch up with the rest of you, “I’m perfect,” you answered dazedly.

Spencer smiled at you, “You are. Perfect, that is.” He sat next to you on the bed, placing a hand on your bare hip, affectionately dragging his fingers over the skin. “You need to go pee,” he said suddenly, furrowing his brows at you.

You couldn’t help it as you erupted in a fit of giggles, resulting in an adorably confused look from Spencer. “Sorry, it’s just you telling me that I need to go pee – it’s funny,” you told him, biting your lip to muffle your laugh.

“Have you not been peeing after sex?” He was clearly appalled as if the idea of you not peeing after sex was abhorrent to him.

Rolling your eyes, you propped yourself up on your elbows, “Of course, I pee after sex, Dr. Reid,” you put extra emphasis on his honorific. “And I will pee just as soon as I’m sure my legs aren’t going to give out of me when I stand up,” you explained to him, reaching out and placing a hand on his knee.

He looked at you seriously, “You know, there are some studies that say the sooner after sex you urinate the less likely you are to contract a UTI.”

“Oh my god,” you said, “Don’t say the word urinate at me while I’m naked in your bed.” You complained, clambering up and making sure you were steady before you walked to the ensuite.

Later on, you were laying in bed next to Spencer, your head was resting on his chest while he kept you tucked into his side. You flinched as a phone started ringing, you sat up and looked around for your phone. Please don’t be a case, you silently hoped as you searched the sheets for your phone.

Once you finally grabbed it, you saw Penelope’s contact flashing across the screen. Swiping the screen, you put the phone up to your ear, hearing loud music on the other end of the call. “Hey, Penny,” you said, smiling as Spencer reached out and pulled you back into him.

You adjusted your t-shirt over your skin, having made Spencer go out to your car for your go-bag so that you could have clean clothes to sleep in. He slipped his hand under the cotton of your shirt, placing his hand flat on your bare skin. You tried to greet Penelope again when she doesn’t respond.

“Hey!” Her voice chimed in through the speaker, “Where’d you go? Jason just got here!”

Frowning, you pulled your phone away and looked at the time – just past eleven o’clock. You sighed, letting your body meld into Spencer’s, “Tell him that someday he’ll find a girl with equally as atrocious time management skills as him.”

You heard some rambling on the other side of the call, and wondered how many members of the BAU made it out this late. “Okay, but where are you?”

Humming, you peered up at Spencer who had, unsurprisingly, pulled out a book to read before bed. “I’m right where I need to be,” you told her earnestly, wondering if she could hear your voice's smile as Spencer kissed your forehead softly.

tagged, if you asked for a part two: @donttrustlove @jumpingjackalope @bippityboppityboob1tch @makingbloodbaths1 @sammyreidslut

@evvy96 @mus3y @nnab @basicallynotbreathing @hell0kitty11

@tatilolz @radioactiveinvisible @lamentis-10 @k-corbett @discotitsposts

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love-bitesx · 1 year

Note

okay but imagine pavitr trying to play wingman for hobie to get with the reader and how funny/cute it would be

longer requests will be out this week, thank u all for the amazing support!! love you guys sm

: ̗̀➛ WINGMAN. hobie brown x reader headcanons

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

oh, he would be so annoying. in the best way.

you’d joined the spider society not long after the others, immediately clicking within the dynamic and it wasn’t uncommon for you all to just hang out in each others dimensions after a mission.

at first, hobie thought you’d simply peaked his interest because of your unspoken nature. constantly standing up for yourself and other spider people, putting people in their place if need be, just your general backbone intrigued him. you felt different to the others. that’s all he thought.

that was, until one afternoon, you were all packed into your apartment, music playing from the stereos and pavitr talking everybody’s ear off about god knows what. hobie had been silent for a while, no reason in particular, he’d been fiddling with the badges on his leather vest, in his own little world. well, until he felt a hand on his knee.

“hobie,” your voice was low, subtle, hanging just below the decibels of the melodies booming through the room, “are you alright? you’ve been quite quiet.”

“oh, uh,” he was taken aback, possibly by your hand that still lingered on his jeans, or how close he suddenly realised you were, seeing the soft details of your face and pigment in your cheeks for the first time, “yeah, no, i’m fine.” he cleared his throat.

smiling back at him, you took your hand away, moving back to get involved in the conversation again, not thinking much of it. regretfully, hobie looked up and saw pavitr staring at him, clearly having watched the ordeal and the excited smirk on his face told him that he’d definitely seen hobie flustered. he sighed.

after pavitr worked out that hobie had a thing for you, it was over for him.

he couldn’t even LOOK in your direction, without the shorter man hopping into his personal space, nudging him hard in the ribs, singing something about kissing in a tree.

constant comments about you to hobie

“y/n, i love your shirt! hobie, doesn’t it look so cool?”

“y/n! hobie told me to tell you he loves your shoes.”

“doesn’t y/n look sooo nice today! huh? hobie? what do you think?”

he was in hell, actually.

there was only so many "yeah, nice" he could say to you before he started to sound like a prick

on missions, he was insufferable

constantly making you guys work together somehow

“miguel, i think me and gwen work best as a team, don’t you think? y/n and hobie should do this one together”

swinging through the streets of whichever earth you were sent to, hearing distant yells of pavitr calling after you both “aren’t they cute together?!”

“good morning, hobie,” you grinned, sleep still evident in your voice as you wandered into the headquarters, beckoning to miguel’s very early morning mission call.

god, he was so thankful to have you alone for once. relief settled itself on his shoulders at the absence of his best friends’ watchful eye, happy to interact with you comfortably.

“mornin’,” he spoke, stretching his legs mindlessly out across the length of the desk, leaning back onto his arms, “how’d you sleep?”

“oh my god, i had the weirdest dream—” you begun, hopping up onto the adjoining surface, eyes lit up with passion as you ranted about the dream you had just resurfaced from.

he watched you the whole time, lips curling into a smile at the way you threw your hands around in the air as you spoke, reeling into every detail about your nonsensical experience. nodding every so often, he was almost enthralled by you – taking this peaceful moment as an advantage to see you properly. you were tired, sleep still evident in your eyes, hair a little chaotic in places, but the soft glow that it gave you made his heart skip.

he’d totally lost himself in speaking to you, listening to the excitement lacing your voice, that he didn’t realise other people had arrived.

well, until he felt a sharp elbow to the ribs.

“you guys are so cute together!” pavitr’s sing-song voice pierced hobie’s ears, shocked at the newcomers, “i saw the way you looked at them, loverboy.”

the nickname stuck

he’d been addressed more by “loverboy” than his own name, and his insides churned every single time

even gwen started calling him it, to which hobie would send a threatening glare

when you eventually did end up seeing each other, whether that be dating or other stuff, you both swore to keep it a secret

hobie refused to give pavitr the satisfaction of knowing he was right

so you would sneak around together, kissing in places you shouldn’t, stealing knowing glances in meetings, secret touches when no one was looking

he loved the risk of it all

but it was one afternoon, you’d both slipped away into an empty lab at the spider society headquarters, giggling to each other like kids as he dragged you into the vacant room

his hands were all over you, lips brushing whatever skin he could see, your arms slung around his neck as you kissed him

“did you lock the door?” you asked

“i thought you did.”

“OH. MY. GOD.” a third voice yelled.

you yelped, jumping away from hobie as a last ditch effort to maybe save some face

it was too late, pavitr stood there, mouth agape

hobie sighed, hanging his head

“GWEN! THEY DID IT!”

pavitr stepped back into the hallway and ran down towards where you’d both left them, his voice carrying through the metal walls

“LOVERBOY DID IT!”

you stood there, unsure whether if you just remained still, you could avoid whatever consequences you both faced

that was, until you felt hobie’s arm slide around your waist, pulling you back into him, an unintelligible look on his face

“we can’t keep it a secret anymore, i guess.” you spoke first, he let out a laugh

“i don’t think that’s such a bad thing,” he kissed you, softly.

a/n: hope this was okay!! currently got a bunch of requests in the works, so keep an eye out for more!!! also anymore headcanon ideas would be so fun!! thank u

#across the spiderverse #hobie brown #atsv hobie #hobie my beloved #hobie #hobie spiderverse #hobie x reader #spiderpunk #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #spider punk x reader #spider punk x you #hobie brown imagine #hobie brown fanfiction #hobie x you

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veltana · 6 months

Text

Riding into the night - Biker!Bucky/Reader

✦ Pairing: Biker!Bucky Barnes/Fem!Reader ✦ Word count: ~7,8k ✦ Rating: Explicit ✦ Warnings/tags: AU, kind of soft!dark!Bucky, smut, fluff, past asshole partners mentioned, squirting, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, spanking, spitting, edging, dirty talk, praise, degradation if you squint, breeding kink if you squint, manhandling, vaginal sex, condom, cum shot, pet names (Fairy). ✦ Summary: One of the bikers caught your attention as they tumbled inside. Tall, broad, covered in tattoos, and wearing a leather vest. Essentially no different from the rest of the gang. But those blue eyes met yours and for a second the world stood still. It was only you and him. ✦ Note: I don't know how to play pool, just go with it! 😂 This is also posted on my AO3

Masterlist | AO3

It was Yelena's bachelorette party and after dinner and clubbing, she insisted you find a less respectable place to round out the night.

That’s how you end up in the sleazy bar at the edge of town that smells of sweat, stale beer, and badly fried food. The drinks are watered down but it doesn't tamper the mood of the party, because they have a few pool tables strewn about, and you never miss an opportunity to crush your friends with a few good games. The only problem is the group of bikers that rolled in fifteen minutes ago, filling up the rather empty bar with their loud voices.

As you're bending over the table to aim you can't shake the feeling of being watched. It throws off your concentration and you don’t hit the ball where you want, making you fail the shot. Righting yourself you sigh with irritation.

"That's not like you," Natasha points out as she gets ready for her turn. With a shrug you say, "Maybe I'd just had too much to drink." Yelena snorts, "I've seen you drunk enough to barely stand and still beat everyone." She waggles her eyebrows, "I think it's a pair of blue eyes that's distracting you."

You give her the finger, but you know exactly what she's talking about. One of the bikers caught your attention as they tumbled inside. Tall, broad, covered in tattoos, and wearing a leather vest. Essentially no different from the rest of the gang. But those blue eyes met yours and for a second the world stood still. It was only you and him. It felt as if diving into a clear blue lake on a hot summer day with not a problem in the world for you to care about. Then you realized you were staring and quickly looked away, breaking the small hypnosis.

Despite having had the most to drink all night, Yelena's observation skills never evade her. She saw what happened and she'd be damned if she let an opportunity to taunt you go to waste.

Quickly shooting a glance at the table, you find the man with the blue eyes. Unabashedly he's staring at you from where he sits. The others around him are talking, laughing, being rowdy, but not him. He takes a drink from his beer in silence, tattooed fingers holding the bottle, and never once does his gaze waver from you. His dark hair is in a ponytail but small strands have broken free to be tucked behind his ears.

You wouldn't say you have a type, but if you did, it wouldn't be him. You like nice guys. So far not anyone you've dated has had a single tattoo. On the other hand, you don't have to date him to fuck him. And that is something you're in desperate need of.

"And now she doesn't even realize it's her turn!" Carol breaks you from your musings and you look at the pool table. Shaking out your shoulders you try to dispel the feeling of eyes boring into your neck. Surveying what you have in front of you, a plan forms in your mind.

"Oh, I know that look!" Natasha shouts unnecessarily loud. She’s had the second most to drink through the night. You and Carol on the other hand are as close to sober as it gets.

Taking a breath, you get into position. In quick succession, you hit three shots dead on and they go right where they should, but when you move to the fourth, Carol is leaning against the edge. "You're in the way," you tell her. "I know!" she smiles. "Can you move?" "No, unfortunately not."

You try to push her off but she's solid muscles. Natasha and Yelena laugh at your failed attempts. "You know I'm going to win this anyway, right?" "I don't have to make it easy for you," she points out.

There is only one other option if you want to make the shot. So you climb up, sitting down on the edge to lean awkwardly past Carol. Just as you move the cue, she taps the edge, causing it to graze the top of the ball and then slide off. "Hey!" Hopping down, you poke her with the stick. "That's cheating!" "It's not like you to miss, are you feeling okay?" she grins. "You're such a sore loser, you know that?" "I have no idea what you're talking about." "My turn!" Natasha yells and shoves you to the side.

You take a few steps back and walk into something solid. Craning your neck to look up over your shoulder you freeze. It's him. The heat from his chest warms you and you're enveloped in his smell of fuel, beer, and cologne that is in no way unpleasant. "How about I buy you a drink as compensation for losing?” his smooth voice asks. That should make you mad because technically you didn't lose, Carol sabotaged you, but it's hard to conjure those feelings when your insides feel as if they’re liquefying. Instead, you nod dumbly before turning to your friends.

"Hey, is it okay-," you start but Yelena won't let you finish. She just waves her hand in a shooing motion and the others don't acknowledge your supposed question. "I'm just going to put this back," you gesture with your cue, but another, equally tall biker comes up beside the man with the blue eyes.

His hair is shorter and blond, cute, but not as drop-dead gorgeous as the other. "I'll take it, play your last rounds," he smiles and grabs the stick, before making his way to your friends.

With a grin, the man with the blue eyes nods his head towards the bar and you follow the short distance. When both of you have taken your places on the high chairs he asks, "What do you want?" "Just a beer's fine," you shrug. He orders from the bartender and then turns to you. "I'm Bucky," he says. After introducing yourself you ask, "Is that your real name or is it your ‘biker-name’?". He chuckles and puts a strand of long hair behind his ear. "It's actually a nickname I've had since I was a kid. And Steve," he gestures to the big guy who took your pool cue earlier, "Has always called me that. My legal name is James."

"But you prefer Bucky?" He shrugs, "I don't think anyone has called me James in a long time." "It's a pretty name, but Bucky sounds cooler. Way more biker!” you smile. That makes him laugh and you find yourself beaming. There is just something about him. He looks tough on the outside but you have a feeling he's a big teddy bear on the inside, and hearing him laugh makes you giddy.

The beer gets lower in your glass as you talk. He buys you another one but is still sipping on his first. "Not a fan of beer?" you ask. "I want to be able to get home in one piece later, and getting drunk is a recipe for crashing." "Have you ever crashed?" "Multiple times, but never anything severe." "What kind of bike do you have?" "I can show you." There is a glint in his eyes that makes your gut clench most pleasantly. "I would love to!"

When you hop off the stool, you lose your balance for a second. Yelena insisted that you all wear heels but you're not used to it in any way. Luckily, Bucky is quick with his arm, putting it around your waist and pulling you into his side to steady you. "Woah there, lightweight. I didn’t know anyone could get drunk off that beer." "I'm not drunk, it's these damn shoes! lost my balance!" "I better keep my arm around you, just to be safe." His smile is warm and playful and it’s as if his touch is burning your skin through your clothes. Your heart speeds up, fingertips tingle. "Yeah, just to be safe," you answer in a low voice.

His eyelids lower, blue eyes turning stormy. Electricity crackles between you and you wonder what he tastes like. But making out in the middle of a bar feels weird so instead you say, "About the bike?" "Yeah, the bike,” he murmurs and it takes a second or two for him to start moving again.

Before you leave, you stop by the pool table where the majority of the bikers have joined the small party. Someone has taken the tiara Yelena previously wore and put it on Steve's head. Another guy is wearing her sash. She's telling them about her wife-to-be, showing them all the cute pictures she's taken of Kate. As you pass Natasha you tell her, "We're just going to look at his bike." She eyes you up and down. "If that is some biker-slang for sex, just say that instead."

Bucky howls with laughter as you punch her in the arm, telling her to fuck off. She brushes her skin. "I think there are mosquitoes in here."

Before you can give her a piece of your mind Bucky drags you outside. It’s a warm evening and you’re glad because you only have a thin blouse on. "You're not a mosquito,” he comforts. “You’re too pretty for that, more like a fairy covered in all that glitter.” Your tummy loops when he calls you pretty and you look down at yourself. At some point, Carol had produced a can of glitter spray to drench all of you in. "I think there is a joke in there about sucking, but I can't find it right now,” you tell him instead, which makes him chuckle before stopping in front of a huge black bike. It's one of those chopper-esc things, not the sporty kind, and in the light from the streets, it looks menacing. "That's a monster," you point out. "It's not that bad." "It's standing still and I'm scared of it."

Bucky moves you from his side to the front of him, making you take a few steps closer. Then he grabs your wrist and puts your hand on the handlebar. "See, it's not so scary," his voice is low, right by your ear, making you shiver. "Yeah, it is," you mumble. "Promise I won't let anything happen to you if you hop on." You look up at him over your shoulder. "You underestimate how clumsy I am. What if it tips over?" "It won't," "Just, don't kill me when it happens, okay?"

What he says next is so faint you almost don't catch it. "There are other punishments I would rather use." Somehow your brain filters that into the purely sexual category and another shiver runs through you. Yeah, Bucky seems like the person who would administer sexual punishments. That is something you've never explored before but it still sends a tingle of excitement down your stomach.

Ignoring it for the moment you swing your leg over the saddle and settle on the seat. The tank in front of you has a huge red star on it and you trace it with your fingertips. "How does that feel?" he smiles down at you. The shadows make him look as menacing as his bike but he feels a lot less scary.

"Okay, I guess," you shrug and try to reach the handlebars but your arms are too short to properly grip them. "How do you even…?" "Scoot over and I'll show you." He gestures and you slide backward before he gets on like he's never done anything else in his life, gripping the handles without a problem.

"Should I start it up?" he asks over his shoulder. You shake your head vigorously, "Absolutely not!" He gets off the bike, just to straddle it the opposite way so he's turned towards you. First, he grabs your legs and puts them over his thighs, then pulls you closer with his hands on your waist. Your breathing gets shallow being so close to him. "Then how am I supposed to take you home, Fairy?" You grab a hold of his vest to steady yourself. "You wanna take me home?" "It's all I've been thinking about since I walked through the door tonight," he confesses.

"Oh," you just answer. His hands are warm through your blouse, the blue eyes piercing despite the low light. There is no denying you want him, you do, but going off with a stranger makes you weary. "Come on Fairy, tell me you don't feel the same?" "Yeah I do, it's just that I don't know you." You brush your hands inside his vest, letting them travel over the broad expanse of his chest, feeling him through his t-shirt.

For a moment you sit quietly and touch each other. Your brain is going a million miles per hour, weighing pros and cons. Bucky doesn’t seem like a psychopath who will rape and murder you. But on the other hand, he might as well be. "Then how about this," he suggests. "I go back in there and let your friends take a pic of me, leave my address and if you don't check in by midnight they can call the police." Your mouth hangs open. "You want to fuck me that bad?"

"I don't think you understand," he seems a little frustrated and his hands harden at your waist even though his voice stays soft. Leaning down, brushing his nose against yours, he explains, "Not only are you the sexiest thing I've seen in a long while. You're gorgeous. On top of that, I've learned in the last hour, that you’re funny and sweet too. So indulge me, let me take you home and show you just how good I can make you feel."

Your mouth is dry as a desert. No one has ever spoken to you like that before. No one has in such a short time made you feel so desired. Finally, you decide to go with your gut, hoping it’s not going to turn out to be a terrible mistake. "Okay, Bucky," you nod.

With a wicked smile, he gets off the bike and walks back to the bar. You take out your phone and quickly write in the group chat, telling them your location is on and sending them a picture of his bike with the red star showing.

It takes longer for Bucky to come back than you thought it would and when he emerges, you notice his vest is gone. "What happened?" "That red-headed friend of yours gave me a stern talking to, and made me leave the vest." "Why?" "She said it seemed important to me, and you're important to her, and if I do something to hurt you she's going to do unspeakable things to the vest and my reputation."

That makes you laugh. Natasha may antagonize you on a regular basis but she's also fiercely protective.

He snatches a helmet from the bike beside and turns to you. "Ever ridden one of these before?" "Not a motorcycle! I've ridden a regular bike." He huffs at that before listing off some do's and don'ts. "But the most important thing," he finishes. "Is that you hold on to me really tight." He smirks, before putting the helmet on your head, tightening the straps. It's a little big but you don't think it will come off.

Bucky gets on and the bike roars to life. Telling you to hold on to him was unnecessary because the moment the sound and feel of the bike hits you, your arms go around his waist and grab onto his clothes. Your heart is hammering and you feel a nervous sweat run down your neck. He never puts a helmet on and before you know it you're flying down the streets.

You have no idea how much time passes or where you are in the city since you’re devoting all of your concentration to hanging onto him. Finally, he slows down and drives into a parking garage attached to a high-rise building. Cars stand in neat rows and he parks in an unoccupied space before getting off.

With shaky fingers, you try to open the clasp to the helmet but fail three times before he notices and does it for you. "That bad huh?" he asks as he hangs the helmet on the handle. "I don't think I can stand," you confess.

As you get off, Bucky holds you to his chest until the ground stabilizes around you. You take the opportunity to study him. There are crow's feet at the edge of his eyes that tell you he smiles a lot. Above the cleft in his chin is his full lips that you've been eyeing for most of the evening. They look soft and delicious.

Your hands travel up and braid behind his neck. Experimentally you pull, seeing if he'll follow, and he does. "I think a kiss would also help," you hint. "Who am I to say no," he hums in response.

As he bends down, you rise up and your lips meet halfway. At first, it's slow but you're both a bit desperate and it quickly gets heavier. Your finger loosens the hair tie and tangles in his long strands, pulling lightly, drawing a pleased sound from his throat. In response, he cups your ass and lifts you off the ground to pull you closer. A surprised moan leaves you before you wrap your legs around his waist and he starts walking. He breaks away just so he can find the button for the elevator, then he is right back to your lips.

Inside, he presses you up against the wall hard enough to get his hands free. They slide up your sides, in under your blouse, making you sigh into his mouth from contentment, fisting the hair at the nape of his neck harder, pressing him closer. Too quickly, but also not quickly enough the elevator dings with the announcement of its arrival on the floor.

Once again Bucky carries you to the door where he fumbles with the keys before getting it open, never breaking from your mouth.

You don't see much of the inside of his apartment because as soon as the door shuts you start pulling at his clothes, wanting them off, to feel his warm skin. The sheets are blue and the bed soft you notice as he places you down on it. With pants and blouse off, the next thing that goes is your bra and he stops the feverish kissing long enough to take you in.

"Fairy," his voice is grovely. "Fuck!" Is all he says before he gently cups your tits, thumbing your nipples and drawing small pleased sounds from you. The fabric of your panties is soaked and every pass over your sensitive peaks shoots another bolt of desire through you.

"Bucky! Can you… please!" you try. It's hard to form words. In an alarmingly short period, he’s got you unbelievably horny and all you can think about is that you need to be touched, to come!

Still playing with your tits he asks, "What do you need Fairy? Tell me what I can do for you." "Take the rest of your damn clothes off and eat me out, or finger me, or something! I'm dying!" "We don't want that now do we?" he smirks and bends down enough to give each of your nipples a kiss. When the last of his clothes go, you suck in a breath because he looks fucking divine. Just like his arms and fingers, his chest and abdomen are covered in tattoos but it doesn't hide the powerful muscles underneath. “You are… wow…” you tell him and swallow roughly. Before you have time to inspect every swirl of ink, he climbs onto the bed and starts up where he left off. His mouth trailing down from your sternum, over your stomach, dragging his teeth tantalizingly over your hip bones, kissing your mound before carefully ridding you of your underwear.

He spreads you with his thumbs, moaning when he sees how wet you are. "Fairy, I think your cunt likes me," he teases. You're about to grip his head and shove his mouth to where you need it, telling him to shut up and get going, but luckily he doesn’t waste any more time.

The cry of pleasure that leaves your mouth is probably heard by the neighbors. Feeling him work you over sends your head spinning and your body twitching. With his tongue and his lips, he tries different pressures and speeds just to see what makes you moan the loudest. "Fingers, Bucky! I need your fingers!" you tell him and seconds later two thick digits start pumping in and out of you, crooking every now and then to find the right spot.

It builds inside you in no time, the dual sensation making it brilliant. But what you feel as you near the edge makes you put your hands against his forehead, pushing and saying, "Wait! Bucky, stop." Hastily he pulls away, fingers leaving you, eyes wide and confused as he sits up. "What is it? Did I hurt you?"

Panting heavily, trying to get your quivering body under control, you wave your hand. "No, no, it's fine! Don't worry!" Then he dares touch you again. His hands slide up and down your inner thighs in a soothing gesture. "Tell me what's wrong. Do you want to stop?" His voice is as soft as his gaze on you.

"God no, I don't want to stop! It's just, ehm…" you feel the embarrassment in your chest, heating you from the inside in an unpleasant way. "Please tell me, Fairy. We can do whatever you want." You try to explain in as roundabout terms as possible, "Sometimes… when it's really good… I can't control what my body does." If you had been smart you would have had this conversation before getting into bed with him, but you weren’t, so now you have to face the unpleasant consequences. "Fairy, what are you saying?" Burying your face in your hands you continue, "Sometimes it's only a little and sometimes it's a lot, but I don't know beforehand so it's better to stop and let me calm down a bit."

There is a beat of silence before his command cuts through it, "Look at me." Slowly you lower your hands. "Were you about to squirt?" he asks point blank. "I hate that word,” you mutter. "Tell me, Fairy," he commands again. "Yes, I'm sorry. I can't control it, it happens!” You’ve had this conversation before, usually after it was already too late and you know how it goes. Luckily you remembered to stop. You’re not sure you would have been able to live it down if it had happened with Bucky. But he does not look happy at all, his eyes near slits, and you reach out towards him, letting your palms graze along his arms to placate him. “I've calmed down now so we can keep going if you want. It rarely happens when I have sex so we can just do that!"

"No," his cold tone answers and your stomach drops. Before you can crawl off the bed to go home he says, "Turn over, ass up, head down." "Bucky, I can just…" You aim your thumb at the door but he doesn’t acknowledge the gesture, only telling you, "Do it, Fairy."

Confused but also curious you turn over on your stomach and bring your knees in under you, doing as you’re told. His hands start making slow steady circles over your ass, caressing and squeezing. "Have you ever been spanked before?" "What?" "You heard me. Have you?" "No… not really…" "So, because you robbed me of your fountain orgasm I'm going to spank you as a punishment. And then you're going to turn over again and I'm going to make you come until you've ruined the sheets. Are we clear, Fairy?" "But, I just thought-,” you begin but he interrupts you. "Whatever someone has said to you before to make you think that you don't deserve to come as hard as you can, makes me so fucking angry. I want all of your pleasure, Fairy, and you're going to give it to me. Understand?" Once again you’re surprised by his words and you give yourself the benefit of the doubt that he knows what he’s in for. With a soft voice, you tell him, "I understand Bucky," and arch your back, showing him that you're ready. "Fucking beautiful."

The sting to your ass is more pleasure than pain. With every impact from his hand, a jolt goes to your cunt. If you were wet before, you're dripping by the time he declares you're done. Each of your ass cheeks gets a kiss before he pushes at your hip and makes you lay on your back again, the sheets cool against your heated skin. He crawls up over you, giving you a long hard kiss. "How are you feeling?" "Very horny," you confess. "Ready to come for me?" "Absolutely, Bucky!"

In no time, he’s back between your legs and starts as he did before, licking and tasting you until you're begging for his fingers. The combination of your slick and his saliva have wetness running down your ass, making a puddle below you. Since you were already so close before you made him stop, it doesn't take long for the coil to wind tight in your lower belly. It’s the same feeling as earlier and you warn him before it happens. "Bucky, I'm going to come!" For a second he lets up to tell you, "Please do, Fairy, I want every last drop."

Maybe it's because of the unplanned edging together with the spanking or it's because Bucky knows exactly what to do with his hands and mouth, or everything combined, but when you arch off the bed with a mind-boggling orgasm, the sides of your vision go hazy and your legs spasm hard. You think you hear Bucky moan but the blood is rushing in your ears.

Panting worse than before you sink into the bed, body lax with the release and you look down to see the unmistakable sign of your climax. Not only are your thighs wet, but the sheets are a shade or two darker, and Bucky is wiping his smirking face with the edge of the cover.

Biting your lip you try to not feel too much shame, but it's hard after years of being told it's disgusting. Although he said he wanted it, maybe he didn't know what he signed up for. "Sorry," you finally say. "Don't ever say that to me again after coming, Fairy. That was fucking amazing!" "Everything is wet." "Everything can be washed," he reassures you. Then he gets off the bed to rummage through a drawer, pulling out a condom. When he turns to you he says, "Now be a good little Fairy and grab your legs for me so I can fuck that sweet cunt of yours."

You watch with anticipation as he rolls the condom on before you pull your legs up, holding behind your knees. As he gets on the bed again, he takes a second to swipe his cock-head through your slick, lubing himself up, but you're impatient, whining and wiggling to get him inside.

"Yeah, yeah, don't worry, you'll get my cock," he’s trying to scold you but it gets lost when he can’t take his eyes away from the view of pressing inside you. The sensation being carried from your cunt throughout your body as he steadily fills you more and more makes your breathing labored and your hands clamping down on your legs harder. "God, that's a pretty fucking pussy taking all my cock," his voice is so low it travels through you like a baseline. Slowly he pulls out and presses in again, mesmerized by what he's seeing, but for you, it's just pure torture.

"Bucky, I need more!" you beg. His answer isn't to fuck you harder or faster like you want. Instead, he spits on your exposed cunt, making you gasp before he presses a thumb against your oversensitive clit. A loud moan rips from your throat and your legs shake. “You get so fucking tight when I touch your clit, feels amazing!”

He keeps the thumb still as he fucks you. Slow, deep thrusts that keep you right on the edge of coming. If he just moved his finger and sped up a little you'd be flying again. But he seems determined to drag this out, his groans and moans are telling you that he's enjoying it very much. Bucky's eyes keep shifting from your face to your chest, down to where you're connected, watching his cock spear you.

Suddenly he removes his hand, but before you can sound a word of protest he's leaned forward, using both his hands to grab the back of your neck. He bends your head down and lifts you from the bed a little until there is no mistake what he wants you to see. “Watch your pussy take all of my cock, Fairy. It belongs there. As if it was fucking made for me. Sucking me right back in every time I pull out.”

Briefly, he lets you have what you need, fucking you faster, slamming into you, making you feel him deep as you watch your body take him over and over again. You understand why he can’t stop watching. It’s filthy at the same time it turns you on more. In desperation, you reach down to touch yourself but he lets you go, making you bounce against the bed slightly before batting your hands away. Then he pulls out and you cry in protest. “No! Bucky! I wanna come! Fuck me!”

Sweat is glistening on his naked chest and his cock stands out from his body, the condom shiny with your slick, but he doesn't acknowledge your plea, only tells you. “On your stomach. Grab a pillow and put it under your hips.”

The pulse in your cunt is uncomfortable, almost unbearable, and you glare at him, having half a mind to just finish off yourself and get some god damned relief. Bucky raises an eyebrow in question as to why you're not doing as he says. With an irritated huff, you turn over, grabbing a pillow and stuffing it under your hips, folding your arms and laying your head on them with a pout, clearly showing him that you're not happy.

The swat to your ass makes you yelp since it's much harder than when he spanked you earlier. It earns him a glare over your shoulder. “Don't be bratty, Fairy,” he reprimands you before his knees push your legs wider and he presses into you swiftly again. He pulls your hands out from under your head, lacing your fingers together before laying down on top of you, kissing your shoulder.

“We were having such a good time,” he says as he starts fucking you again. The new angle makes his dick press right against your g-spot, forcing a whine out of you. Even though you don’t want to give him the satisfaction you can’t help to push your ass against him. With all his weight on top of you, it's hard to move, but your body craves him. “But now you're mad at me, Fairy. What can I do to make it better?” Rutting harder he sends white-hot pleasure through you. You've never been able to come from penetration alone, but the way your body feels makes you think that this might do the trick. “I want to come!” you almost sob.

“Yeah, I know Fairy. Don't forget that I can feel every little pulse of your cunt around me.” There is no comfort to be found in his tone. “Why are you being so mean?!” you cry. That makes him laugh into your neck. “Oh little Fairy. This is not me being mean. This is me wanting to give you the pleasure of your life.” He nips at your skin. “We could have been done a long while ago. You feel so good I could come any second. But I don't want that.” His hands squeeze yours. “I want you to always remember this. No matter what happens after, it'll be seared into your memories. Every time you're with someone else you'll wish it was me fucking you.”

The little show of possession makes your heart beat double and you're about to tell him you don't want to be with anyone else ever again, but that's crazy, so instead you respond with what you hope will get you what you need. “Then fuck me like you fucking mean it because right now your performance is mediocre at its best,” trying and failing to sound unaffected. This time his laugh is tinged with something cruel and you have a second to wonder what the hell you've let loose before he raises himself, pressing your joint hands into the bed to keep his weight on, and then starting to fuck you in earnest.

A sharp cry is forced from you by the brutal thrusts. The angle is much better and your body starts burning from the inside. Screams, moans, and pleas all tumble together from your lips.

Every time you think you might be close to coming he slows down, just enough to keep you from reaching any kind of high. That makes you livid and when you curse him out, he releases your hands, instead placing them between your shoulder blades, pressing you down hard into the mattress, before starting up again.

“I wish I had a vibrator to shove between your legs. Put it on the highest setting and force you to come over and over again. You'd be begging me to stop instead, trying to run away, crying. I bet you'd look real pretty sobbing.”

Your cunt clenches hard at the mental image he's presenting. You can't decide if that would be worse than this. Your body feels like a livewire, ready to release all the pent-up pleasure that has accumulated in your body. All it needs is the right touch at the right place.

One moment you’re on your front, and in the next, he’s flipped you over on your back again. You don’t even have the presence of mind to be surprised because he’s instantly inside you, your legs over his shoulders and his hands gripping your head, kissing you fiercely. It’s teeth and tongue and lips in a jumble. With his pelvis pressing against your clit it drives you fast towards the edge. “I need to see your face when you lose it on my cock,” he rests his forehead on yours. Despite his words, he slows down when it starts to climb inside you. You groan, almost in pain, the edging is making you feel crazy. Over and over again he refuses you the release you’re so desperately after.

A little too late you realize that maybe there is something you can do, instead of begging, that will get you what you want. “I wish you could come inside me,” you whisper, looking right into his eyes, clenching around him when you speak. When he groans you know you’ve hit the spot, but you press down the grin. “You want to fill me up with your cum, Bucky?” you ask before you give him a ruthless kiss. “Yeah fuck, Fairy!” He thrusts hard in response. “Better fuck me good then, and maybe I'll come back and let you do it.”

“Oh Fairy,” he growls and moves one hand to the headboard, gripping it, the other grasping the base of your skull. “You’ll come back. I'll have you outside my door, on your knees, begging for my cock.” The pace he sets has the bed creaking disconcertingly. “Maybe I'll even let you in, crawling on all fours.”

As his voice paints the picture of your submission, the climax mounts in you. Bucking up against him, you try to get more when he’s already giving you everything. All thoughts about teasing him are forgotten with the immediate pleasure. “Don't stop-don't stop-don't stop!” You chant. “Never, Fairy. Come on my dick. Let me see you.”

Your vision goes spotty when the orgasm hits, your throat screaming his name, body convulsing in a way you’ve never experienced before. Afterward, your body goes limp, twitching with aftershocks as Bucky seeks his own release. Maybe you can't have him come inside you, but you want something more. “Come on me,” you tell him in a hoarse voice. “Fuck! What?” He’s so beautiful above you with his hair hanging down in his face, sweat making his skin shine, the clear desperation and shock on his face. “Paint me with your cum, please Bucky,” you say once again. “God dammit, Fairy! Fuck!” He sits back and rips the condom off. A few swipes are all it takes and he's shooting ropes up your stomach and chest, blue eyes wide and staring as if he can't believe it, moaning your name loudly in his deep voice. It makes you grin like the Cheshire cat, knowing you can affect him just as much as he does you.

He sags down beside you, panting heavily. You never want to move but as the sweat and cum start to cool, your heart calms down, and you start feeling something else.

“Oh, I think I…” you mumble, looking down between your legs. “When I came I…” “You squirted?” Bucky chuckles at your unwillingness to say the word. “Yeah. That usually doesn't happen with sex.” “It did. You almost pushed my dick out when you came too.” He kisses your shoulder and up your neck. You turn your head to meet him in a soft kiss. “You also called me James,” he smiles against your lips.

You stare at him in horror as your mind catches up with what he’s saying and you realize you did in fact do that. “Oh god,” You wish you could sink through the bed and continue into the earth's core. “I don't know why I did that!” He kisses you again. “Don't worry, I liked it,” he reassures you.

After some more kissing, the various bodily fluids on your skin compel you to get up and head for the bathroom to clean yourself up. When you're done you study yourself for a moment in the mirror, thinking that you’ll see something different after you've just been fucked within an inch of your sanity, but you look just the same.

When you get back to the bedroom, Bucky has stripped the bed and is in the process of putting new sheets on. After you help him, you start looking for your clothes, thinking you'll take a cab home, but Bucky stops you by pulling you into a warm embrace. “You need to text your friends. I prefer my vest and my reputation untarnished.”

With a laugh you move to find your phone and when you do you notice you have a bunch of notifications. It's well past midnight.

It seems as if he doesn't want to be far away from you because as you’re writing a reply, he comes up behind you and hugs you close. Suddenly you have a better idea and stop what you’re doing, instead, you take a picture of the two of you, aiming it to just show your bare upper shoulders and your faces. The flash goes off in the dim room and when you see the picture you giggle. What you couldn't tell in the mirror, the picture clearly shows. Two fucked out people. You send it with just a short line about being alive.

When you're done you turn in Bucky's arms. “Satisfied?” “In more ways than one,” he smiles cheekily before kissing you. After a lazy make-out session standing naked in the middle of the room, you begin to pull away. “I need to-” “Stay,” Bucky finishes for you, tightening his arms. “Stay?” “Yeah, I'll make you breakfast tomorrow and then take you home.” “You don't have to,” you tell him. “Indulge me?” “Fine,” you sigh as if it’s a great burden. “I guess I could stay, but if you don't cuddle me, I'm leaving.” He pinches your ass in reprimand, making you jump. “You have no idea what you've signed up for, Fairy.”

True to his words Bucky hardly lets you out of bed, even in the morning when you need to use the bathroom. When you come back he holds up the cover and pats the mattress. As soon as you're beside him he pulls you in closer, putting his face in the crook of your neck and mouthing at your skin. A pleasurable sigh leaves you as you snuggle in closer to his warm body. Although the both of you were naked together the night before you never had time to explore his body, so now you let your hands roam everywhere they can reach.

Bucky lets his own hands travel over your skin, but those touches don’t stay innocent long and soon his erection is pressed into your stomach. Taking pity on him you spit in your palm and grab him, making him hiss at the contact before you lazily start pumping him. When he tries to reach between your legs you push his hand away. “No, let me take care of you,” you say sternly. “Whatever you say, Fairy,” he groans and thrusts into your palm.

There is no finesse to it all, just a quick morning hand job. He comes between your bodies, dirtying the sheets. When you see his eyelids starting to close again you poke him and they fly open. “You promised me breakfast!” “You just missed it,” he winks. In response, you roll your eyes before getting up. “Men!”

Instead of pulling on your jeans and the blouse drenched in glitter from the night before you snag the t-shirt he was wearing and find your discarded panties. The t-shirt barely covers your ass but at least you're semi-dressed as you go out into the kitchen to find something to eat.

Muttering under his breath about you being a stubborn woman he follows you in sweatpants and a fresh henly. Before you can find the coffee he hauls you up and puts you on the kitchen island, boxing you in with his arms on either side, lowering himself to glare at you. “Instead of opening every cupboard in the whole damn kitchen, tell me what you want and I'll make it.” “Coffee, with milk and sugar.” “And to eat?” “What do you usually make for the women you bring home?” you tease.

That makes him rise to his full height, looking down at you, and crossing his arms. “You think I have a habit of bringing women home and fucking them like I did you last night?” “You didn't get that good by theorizing,” you point out. “There hasn't been anyone, in a long time, Fairy,” his voice is suddenly soft as he cups your cheeks. You have another teasing comment on your lips but think better of it when you see his guarded look.

Instead, you put your arms around his waist and pull him in between your legs, resting your chin against his sternum to look up at him. “Then you make me whatever you want. But I don't like fish.” With a smile, he asks, “How about scones?” “Sounds perfect.”

When you’re done with breakfast he puts you on the table, insisting that he needs dessert and showing a much gentler side than the night before as he strums your body until you tell him you can't come anymore. Then he carries you to the couch and puts on a random channel. Together you watch reruns until you slide down his body to give him some of his own medicine. No matter how much he begs, you take your sweet time tasting him and when he comes it’s with a roar of your name. After some more cuddles and a nap, you convince him that you actually need to go home.

Just as you're about to head out there is a knock on the door and Bucky opens it to find Steve outside, holding his vest. Earlier he explained that Steve lives a few apartments down the hall. “I was told to give this to you.” Bucky takes it and inspects it quickly before hanging it up. To you, it seems untarnished.

“Hope Nat didn't give you too hard a time,” you smile. Assuming they'd stayed late at the bar and when she'd seen your text she'd given it to Steve. His eyes quickly flick away and there is a blush on his cheek. “No, no, it was fine.” You narrow your eyes and study him, noticing a small red bite mark on his neck. “Oh my god!” you exclaim and start laughing. Steve blushes even more. Bucky looks confused between the two of you. “What?” In a very loud whisper, you tell him, “I think Nat is at Steve's place.” Bucky's eyes glimmer with mirth and he looks at him. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Steve waves and heads back down the hall. Just as he pulls the door open you yell. “Tell her I said hi!”

Fortunately, Bucky also has a car, and as he drives you home, he keeps his hand on your thigh the entire time. Outside your apartment, he turns to you. “I want to see you again,” he says. “Okay.” You want that too. So much! “When?” “Tomorrow ideally but if that doesn't work, how about a date on Friday?” You could do tomorrow but you feel yourself already falling for him. Some distance would do you good, so you say, “Friday sounds great! Give me your phone.” You type in your number and save it under the fairy emoji before sending yourself a text. Then you save him under a motorcycle emoji.

Before you can get out he pulls you in for a long, deep kiss. “Now go before I kidnap you and keep you warm in my bed all week.” “Don't tempt me with a good time,” you wink and give him one last peck before getting out. In an act of pure self-preservation, you don't look back.

After a long shower, and checking your phone a million times throughout the evening to see if he’s texted, you come to the realization that you will never make it to Friday. You: [If I told you that I’ve changed my mind and want to see you tomorrow, would that make me seem desperate?] The response is quick. Bucky: {No more than I feel right now. I’ll pick you up after work. When do you get off?} Refusing to let an opportunity like that go to waste, you reply. [Preferably quicker than last night. I’m not sure I’m a fan of edging ;)] {Fairy, don’t make me spank you again. Off of work.} [I’ve told you not to tempt me with a good time ;) I get off at four]

#bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #biker!bucky #biker!bucky barnes #veltana writes

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sinizade · 1 year

Text

I made a little clothing guide for some Dragon Age regions

Some may not be exactly the same as the references that appear in the game or in the concepts, but I wanted to give a little of my vision to the guide.

Ferelden

Ferelden is close to the Frostback Mountains and Orlais and as Leliana and Zevran once said, Ferelden is cold, so I thought it would be a cool idea to put on thick clothes with a lot of fur so the Fereldans can protect themselves from the cold.

Tevinter

Dragon Age 4 is approaching and it's already evident that we're going to be in the Tevinter Imperium, so I discovered that a lot of Tevinter clothing was inspired by clothing from the Byzantine Empire

Orlais

We've already seen in the game and in the concept art that Orlais is all about being flamboyant and flashy and what's more flamboyant and flashy than mid-1500s fashion?

Antiva

Home to the two loves of my life, Zevran and Josephine, Antiva fashion is something I really love… The puffy arms, the breast-enhancing corsets, the leather vests, idk, I just like Antiva

Nevarra

I don't exactly have much to say about nevarra, but I did some research and found some concepts that I thought were interesting, I also saw in some places that said that the kingdom was inspired by the traditional culture of Spain

So I'll leave two references here

One for the traditional clothes and one for what I imagine might look like Nevarra dress

Frostback Basin

In Inquisition we can see that the clothes they wear are quite furry and well protected from the cold, so I think it would be a good idea to inspire some of their clothing in Inuit clothing

The Dalish (1/2/3/4/5)

Well, for the Dalish I had MANY ideas, among them think about adding traditional clothes from some tribes, native Brazilian/American, African, Hawaiian, Inca, Aztec and Mayan

Remembering that I made a great mix of traditional clothes from several tribes and not just one, and that I also have 0 intention of disrespecting any of them, if I have put something wrong or disrespectful you can be free to alert me

Orzammar

I knew little about Turkey, but when I went to research I ended up enchanted with some of the traditional clothes when I went to research about it and I thought that this style would go well with Orzammar

Par Vollen

For Par Vollen, I had a bit of trouble finding it, but I think clothing a little bit closer to the ancient Egyptian style would be something interesting. The light fabrics, the golden jewels adorning the body, idk, I like that idea

Rivain

I was doing some research again and found that part of Rivain's look was inspired by traditional clothing from Islamic Spain and Southeast Asia , so I looked around a bit for something to put here and add one more kingdom to the list

I hope you people enjoyed! Soon I will add more realms as soon as I finish my research

#dragon age fan art #dragon age 2 #dragon age origins #dragon age #dragon age awakening #dragon age inquisition #tevinter #orlais #ferelden #frostback basin #antiva #nevarra #Rivain

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lovebugism · 11 months

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Eddie x Gareths sisterrrrr????? Like Romeo and Juliet type stuff where Gareth is like my sister is NOT dating you

thanks so much for your request, anon!! i had so much fun writing it!! there isn't much conflict with gareth, but i hope you like it anyway! jealous!eddie x girly!reader (1.6k)

bug's summer fic fest ♡

Gareth picks you up from the mall at six o’clock sharp.

You say goodbye to your friends, all of them wearing the same tank top and pleated skirt duo you’re in, before getting into the passenger seat of his pick-up truck. You’re dressed too nicely to be sat in such a beaten-up thing. Too pretty for it, too.

“Wanna get something to eat?” the boy asks as he pulls out of the parking lot, talking over the Dio song blaring on the radio.

He’s wearing his usual flannel vest over a tattered Metallica tee. The former is riddled with various vintage pins fitting for a metalhead. Down to his skull necklace, ripped jeans, and dirty sneakers — the two of you couldn’t be more different.

You flip down the visor and use the mirror to put on a swipe of glittery lipgloss. You feel almost naked without it. “Slurpees?” you offer before smacking your mouth to spread the sparkly glaze.

“That’s so not dinner,” Gareth laughs as he shakes his sandy curls.

You arch a manicured brow in his direction. “Got a better idea?”

“Nope,” he concedes, popping the ‘p.’

He’s got too much of a soft spot for you to deny you of anything. Perks of being the youngest sibling, you suppose.

You feel butterflies fluttering like crazy in your stomach, their wings brushing the edges of your ribcage as he pulls into the gas station — and it’s not because of the $1 Slurpees. Your stepbrother’s best friend, Eddie Munson, usually deals drugs in the back parking lot on weekends. Like the absolute dreamboat he is.

It’s been days since you last saw him. Six of them, to be exact, but it’s not like you’re counting or anything.

While Gareth waits in line to pay for your drink and his food, you decide to quell your yearning. It’s much more like a hunger, though. Whatever innocent crush you used to have is far more salient now. You miss Eddie like a dinner you didn’t get to eat — noticeably empty, weakened without his smile to bring you back to life.

You round the corner to the back lot and find him flipping through a wad of cash. He leans against the brick wall with one dirty sneaker kicked up against it. Despite the middle of summer head, he hasn’t yet forgone his leather jacket and dark denim jeans duo. He looks killer, as usual — so you could only imagine how he’d look out of them.

When he hears the sound of footsteps scuffing against pavement, he looks at you from the corner of his eye. His gaze is halfway hidden beneath his fluffy bangs before he turns to face you wholly.

He grins at the sight of you, and you fill whole again.

“Hi, Teddy,” you greet with a smile, stained blue from your raspberry Slurpee.

He rises on both feet and tucks the money into the back pocket of his baggy jeans. His head tilts to his shoulder as he looks at you, too cute for his own good. “Whatcha doin’ out here, princess?”

Your stomach flutters at the nickname you’ve heard too many times to count.

“Came to see you,” you shrug innocently, curling your smile around the straw of your drink.

Eddie beams, brows raising in amusement and cheeks reddening at your answer. He hopes you’re too far away to see his cheeks glowing as pink as they are now. He’d just blame it on the summer heat, anyway.

“Really?” he lilts, voice light and airy with mirth.

You shrug as you swallow down the fruity slushy. “Gareth brought me for Slurpees.”

“How sweet.”

“Right?” you hum with a blue-tinted smirk, slowing when you finally reach the boy. His weed-tinged, woody musk envelopes you completely — he might as well be embracing you. “Best brother ever.”

Gareth isn’t really your brother, despite how often you call him that. You’re related by marriage, not by blood. You’ve known him your entire life, though, so you figure you might as well be.

Eddie knows this, so he smiles and takes a rather dramatic step back from you. “And that is exactly why I have to stay approximately three feet away from you at all times, princess.”

“Why’s that?” you squint at him.

When you take another step closer, he takes two more back.

“‘Cause he’s been threatening to beat my ass about dating you since we were thirteen.”

A smile quirks the right side of your lips. “Well, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” you lilt.

Eddie’s brows raise at the mischievous inflection in your words. This time when you step towards him, he stays in place. “You’d really do that to him? To the ‘best brother ever?’”

You take another daring step towards him. Your chin tilts up to look at him in your ever-shortening proximity. “I’ve done far worse things than think his best friend is hot, Teddy.”

“Yeah?” the boy coos, chocolate eyes dancing with amusement as his chin dips to his chest to peer down at you. He makes the mistake of looking lower — at your breasts in your pretty little tank top and the silver of your stomach showing beneath the hem. He wants so desperately to hold you, despite everything that tells him he shouldn’t. His best friend, namely.

“And what’s that, princess?” the boy croons to you.

“I don’t kiss and tell,” you blink innocently up at him, then shrug. “Sorry.”

Eddie knows he shouldn’t be jealous, but he is.

You’re not his, but god, you were so good at making him feel like you were. You were around so often, always so sweet in your way — sometimes, it felt like you really did belong to him. The thought of his girl with someone else makes him feel like puking.

Jealousy radiates from him like steam, palpable enough for you to feel.

You grin.

“Don’t worry, Teddy,” you singsong, taking another goddamn step closer. Eddie knows he should be taking a thousand more backward, but your chest brushes his torso and he forgets how to walk. “I only have eyes for you.”

The boy swallows through a tightening throat. He nods for a moment, trying to work up the courage to use his voice. He’s scared that it’ll break, and he’ll lose all cool points with you. And he’s the rockstar, the older brother’s best friend — he can’t possibly have that.

“Good to know,” Eddie finally nods.

“Don’t keep me waiting too long, though. Might have to find some other metalhead to give me attention.”

Your smile widens when his jaw clenches, honeyed glaze hardening at the thought of you finding someone else. Your heart flutters when you realize that he sees you as his. He’s already been yours for a long, long time.

Gareth calls your name from a distance, muffled and far away. It’s nearly inaudible, but it knocks Eddie from his stupor all the same. “You should go, princess.”

“My parents usually go to bed around nine. Gareth’s usually sucking in the ceiling by eleven,” you maunder suddenly, wide eyes sparkling with roguishness. “If you park your van a few houses down around midnight, no one will be the wiser…”

“You want me to sneak into your bedroom?” Eddie laughs softly to himself. He hasn’t done that since he was sixteen. He thought he was over chasing girls like that. Turns out, he wasn’t really. Not when it came to you, at least.

“Uh-huh,” you hum with a firm nod, lips wrapping around the red straw of your slushy right after.

“And what’s in it for me, huh?”

Truth be told, Eddie couldn’t give a shit. He already knows he’ll be at your house at 12 o’clock sharp, climbing up your trellis like some kind of offbeat Spiderman. He just wants to hear you tell him something, anything — a wish for him to go on for the next several hours while he’s stuck dealing in the heat, thinking about you.

You don’t answer him with words.

You rise on the tips of your toes, holding onto your Slurpee with one hand and using your free one to cup his cheek. You usher the boy softly towards you as you press your mouth to his. And it’s not the most heated kiss in the world or anything — just a languid, honeyed thing that makes your lips lock like they were made to do it.

Eddie’s idling hands rise to your waist. His ringed fingers squeeze the bare skin of your sides as he sighs against your mouth. You taste cold and sweet — like blue raspberry and ice and lipgloss — his savior in this heat. The tip of his nose smushes against the side of yours, desperate to melt with you entirely. He thinks it might be close to possible, having you so close in the sweltering summer evening.

He’s breathless when you pull away from him.

“More of that,” you answer through labored breaths. “And maybe a little extra, if you’re good.”

Eddie doesn’t bother denying his want for you anymore. Fuck it, he’ll just fight his best friend. He can take a punch if he has to, but he’s not sure Gareth could even throw one — especially not at the boy he’s known for practically half his life.

“Your bedroom’s the last window on the light, right?” Eddie asks through rosy, kiss-bitten lips.

“Yeah,” you grin, backing slowly away from him. “I’ll leave my light on.”

He nods until the words catch up with him. “Okay.”

“See you then, Teddy.”

When you turn the corner for the main parking lot, Eddie can finally breathe again.

The air is noticeably less sweet without you around.

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #bug's summer fic fest!

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htchnr · 2 months

Text

♰ thanks sugar ༻ C. HOWARD.*ೃ˚

➻ masterlist. ➻ buy me a coffee!

PAIRING ➻ southern bounty hunter!reader x Cooper Howard.

CW ➻ mention of drugs ⋆ alcohol consumption ⋆ fallout typical violence ⋆ reader sustains a bad injury ⋆ but it's not too explicitly described ⋆ mention of stitching up said injury ⋆ if i missed anything, lmk!

SUMMARY ➻ "Can i request a bounty hunter reader who is always one step ahead of Cooper and he’s fed up with her? Then the reader is in a deadly situation and he decides to rescue her, because even if he’s fed up that she’s always one step ahead of him, he respects her for that." requested by the lovely @likoplays WC ➻ 2,8K.

he didn't know quite what to feel the first time he encountered you..

his hairless brows furrow the moment he lays eyes on you — his bounty, dead, beneath your boot. you look up from the body beneath you, and smile. a disgustingly sweet smile on your shockingly soft looking lips. “heya sugar,” you grin, “it appears you jus’ missed this fella here,” your tone confident and ever so slightly out of breath from the fight he had missed.

he huffs frustratedly, and when his harsh eyes drag down your form the pieces fit together in his head. so you’re the cowgirl bounty hunter that’s been cashing in his bounties.

he can see it now, why’d people mistake him for you sometimes if they can’t see his face — your body clad in tough jeans and a layer of belts draped across your hips. a worn down cowboy hat atop your head with a bullet hole going through the rim on the right side. he could spot a peak of some leather vest and a worn shirt sticking out from it and atop it all a tattered worn duster draped over your shoulders.

huh, he thought to himself. just that, a contemplative ‘huh’. the conversation that followed was less harsh then he thought it’d be now that he can put a face to your name. he still made his points very clear though.

by the third time the pair of you cross paths he’s gotten used to your honey sweet drawl and even sweeter smiles. he wondered since the day he met you why you always smiled so bright, given the world you live in and the job you do.

the bar smells like spilled liquor and blood, the air is sticky and stuffy in the summer’s heat. the people in it probably smell worse, but he’s thankful he’s can’t smell most of it.

the oh so familiar “heya sugar,” sounds from across the bar in Filly. he looked over and saw you sitting a few stools down from him, sipping on something dark. he huffs and nods in your direction before returning his attention to the bourbon in his dirty glass.

he listens to your stool creak and groan before the thuds of your boots follow you to the stool beside him. “any good contracts on the horizon?” you tease with a grin.

he looks up from his glass, watching you down the remainder of yours. his dark eyes follow a stray drop that drips past your lips and down your chin before you catch it with a finger, dipping the finger between your lips to suck up the liquid. he sighs and downs his own glass, wishing he could feel the burn as the alcohol trickled down.

“well, wouldn't you like to know, hm?” he drawls, his eyes slightly squinting at you. he knows damn well that you know what’s on his horizon. seeing as you’ve probably got the same bounties on yours.

you sigh, swirling a stray drop of liquor in your glass around. “you ain’t bein’ fun,” you huff as you tip back your glass to catch that last drop on your tongue. you stretch your shoulders, groaning in the process before shrugging your duster back over your shoulders.

you nod at the bartender and hand him a few caps, thanking him with that same sickly sweet smile before standing up. you turn back to him, tightening your holster belt. “well, i’ll be seein’ you stud.” you tip your hat to him before walking out the bar and into the fresh air.

he hasn't seen you in a while, he thinks to himself, while he walks along the tracks of his latest bounty — some guy who had plundered a large settlement. who in turn wanted the man alive, so they could convict him or some shit. they were paying a hefty heap of caps for the man, and that was all that mattered.

the trail started to head in the direction of the Super Duper Mart he frequents for RadAway, to his surprise. maybe the bounty needs a patch up or some chems, who knows. if the tracks lead there, he might as well pick up some more vials of RadAway, more could never hurt.

the tracks indeed lead to the front doors of the Super Duper Mart, though are soon joined by a second pair, one he’s grown to recognise anywhere. he groans, head dropping back in frustration. he was starting to get a little low on caps and would really fucking like a job to turn out in his favor before he has to turn to the ones he’ll hate doing.

he rummages through his saddlebags, looking for things he could offer in return, when he hears a loud slam against the window on the right side of the building. he knew what went down there, and this kind of commotion was not uncommon, but definitely relatively unusual. he ignores the sounds as his hand touches some Jet, that’ll have to do for now, he thinks to himself.

he grabs the handful of Jet, hitting the button on the speaker. “transaction.” he drawls, dark eyes trying to look through the dirty glass as if he might see his bounty there.

it’s quiet for a second, before the familiar voice of the Handy comes through, “yes?”

“ten vials for fifteen Jet.”

more silence before the speaker crackles again, “the deal can be further discussed inside, the doors will open.”

Cooper sighs, not looking forward to the hassle of making a deal with the idiots inside. the doors squeak open in a few seconds and he makes his way inside. the relatively cool building was a slight relief compared to the harsh sun.

the moment he steps inside the commotion from the room across from him rings crystal clear through the building. he supposed the guys running it are used to it and barely blink at it. he walks past the room, and reaches the guys in charge sat lazily on the couch in front of the tv.

Cooper clears his throat, the two guys looking up immediately. “ten vials for ten Jet, right?” the left guy says, slightly slurring his words.

“uh huh,” Cooper confirms.

and to his surprise the guys are probably so high they didn't hear what the Handy said and the deal seems fine to them as the left guy rummages through the box of chems to pull out ten vials of RadAway. he wonders for a brief second, if he could rip off the guys and give them less Jet and still get the vials — they don’t seem to be in the condition to properly count anything.

the left guy holds out his shaky hand expectantly and Cooper drops eight Jet into his palm, curious about the outcome. and to his surprise the guy takes the Jet, stares at them blankly, then hands Cooper exactly ten vials. huh, he thinks, well done.

he thanks them after stuffing the vials into his box with the last of his other ones and heads back to the entrance. he nears the room where all the commotion is still coming from and almost passes before he hears a familiar voice yell out.

“dagnabbit! you better get ‘ur grimey saws ‘way from me you asshole!”

your southern twang was even more prominent with your anger and panic, but he could recognise your voice anywhere. he stood before the closed door with a war inside him;

with how little contracts you left him it’d be great career wise for him to leave you here, no more stealing his high paying bounties, he’d finally be able to afford a little more supplies — but a side of him also grew to deeply respect your skill. the way you managed to handle bounties that had even him slightly questioning if he could do it. you clearly had great skill to make it this long in the business and in the world.

he groans, head dropping back as he beat himself for what he was about to do. the panic in your voice sounded genuine, it sounded like you were genuinely fighting for your life. he set his saddlebag down by the door and kicked it open, the door slamming into the wall.

he walked into the room, blood splattered across the floor, the usual tools and coolers around. and then his eyes landed on you, strapped down to a gurney with the Handy trying to hack away at you.

guessing by the blood on the floor he had gotten at least one good slice in. at the sound of the door slamming open both you and the Handy turned to him. “no people allowed in this room!” the Handy crackles, though his blades still hovering above you.

“heya sugar,” you pant heavily. “fancy seein’ you ‘ere,” you somehow manage a genuine smile, which catches him a little off guard, given the situation you’re in.

“quite the predicament you’ve found ‘urself in, huh?” he nods, eyes still watching the Handy as the robot hovers still.

you flinch at something and swallow thickly, “nothin’ i ain’t done before,” he can see the pain through your smile now, and it makes him want to kick himself for what it makes him feel inside.

he unholsters his gun, aiming at the Handy, “hey tincan, how’bout you leave the lady alone?” he drawls, eyes squinting at the robot.

“i afraid i cannot do so, she has been prepared for harvesting.” the Handy states.

Cooper sighs, knowing that whatever happens here means the end of his dealings with this place. it takes a mere inch that the Handy moves towards him and Cooper puts a bullet through it. smoke shoots out the side that was shot. “t-t-that was n-no-o-ot friendly-” the Handy malfunctions, fully turning to him now.

he rolls his shoulder before unloading the other three heavy rounds into the Handy round body. the Handy spurts out smoke and steam from everywhere, dropping to the floor with a loud crash. he really hopes the guys out back are too high to notice all this.

Cooper holsters his gun, side stepping around the dying Handy as he makes his way to you. the closer he gets, he can see what caused you to flinch and where all the blood all over the floor came from — a huge gash in your side. not concerningly deep, but still worrisome nonetheless. you had a few cuts across your bare shoulders as well, he guesses from you thrashing around while the Handy tried to cut you open.

your head drops down onto the gurney and you groan in relief. “oh crud muffin’,” you huff, the muscles in your side flexing in pain. Cooper watches carefully as he begins to unbuckle the restraints, making sure to be extra careful with the one around your hips that’s awfully close to your wound.

“what ‘m i glad to see your handsome face ‘ere,” you pant, massaging your wrists the moment they're free.

Cooper steps back from the gurney a little once he’s unbuckled the restraints around your ankles so you can sit up. he squints at your choice of words. handsome. you sit up, a little shaky. “phew,” you huff, reaching a hand to your side. “my knight in shinin’ spurs-” your voice trailing off just before your body goes limp and drops forward.

Cooper hands immediately find your shoulders, pushing you up before you’re able to drop off the gurney. “damnit girl,” he swears as he lays you down, eyes sweeping over the gash in your side. it was significantly worse than he thought, and given the amount of blood on the floor you had been fighting quite a bit.

he huffs, searching around for med supplies. it surprises him that you kept going as long as you did. he dumps whatever supplies he could find in your lap, before turning his full attention to your wound. you were gonna owe him after this..

bright lights and a warm feeling wakes you, eyes painfully peeling open. expecting the ceiling of the Super Duper Mart, your eyes instead are met with the bright sky, the hot sun beating down on you. you shoot up in a panic, though nearly cry out in pain as the stitches in your side constrict. “sugar honey iced tea!” you shout out with your eyes clenched shut, your hand immediately holding the injury.

footsteps come dashing from behind you, the sun suddenly blocked by someone. your eyes shoot open, wild eyes meeting a familiar pair of dark, hollow ones. it takes you a second, before you sigh in relief and drop back down. you’re quiet for a moment as you catch your breath, before speaking. “where are we?” your throat is sore.

Cooper huffs, the sound of your cry still pounding in his heart. “not too far out from the Super Duper,” he drawls, catching his own breath a little.

when you open your eyes again to look at him, you notice something strange — he’s not wearing his duster. and that’s when it clicks, the heavy coat is draped over top of you. your eyes flit across his form, a raggedy denim shirt sticking out from a thick leather vest that has certainly seen better days with a few missing buttons and what are almost certainly knife shaped holes.

your eyes drag down to his scarred forearms that are exposed below his sleeves that're rolled up, your distracted eyes lingering a little longer than they should.

you reluctantly sit up, groaning as you do so. the duster drops into your lap as you lift your shirt up to assess the damage. “ahw shucks, that ain’t lookin’ good..” you huff, brows furrowed in pain and eyes staring at the roughly stitched gash.

Cooper clears his throat, “did the best i could on a whim, hope that’s okay,” and this is the first time you’ve heard him speak without the confidence and strength he usually has.

you shake your head, “don’t worry ‘ur handsome head, this more than i could’ve asked you for and’m thankful for it,” you tip your head at him, a pained but genuine smile on your lips. god, he thought, was there ever a time you didn’t look so sugary sweet?

he nods in return, “you’re welcome,” he walks over to offers you a bottle of what appears to be bourbon, which you gratefully accept with a pained grin. “should ‘elp take the edge off,”

you take a generous swig, a low moan of relief being pulled from your lips as the liquid trickles down. you relish the sweet burn before handing him back the bottle. “i can’t thank you enough,” you smile.

Cooper shakes his head, “don’t worry your pretty head about it,” he copies your words. he takes a swig before shoving the bottle back in his saddlebag. he pauses as he thinks, “well, there is one thing you could do,” he trails off.

you let out a laugh, and he thinks it might be the sweetest thing he’s heard in decades. “out with it, what d’you need?” you chuckle.

he shrugs, tilting his head with a playful smirk on his lipless skin. “you could always leave me some bounties for once?” he drawls, eyes squinted to aid the smirk.

you let out another laugh, this one equally if not even more sweeter sounding then the last. “well i’ll tell you what sugar, why don’t we stop dancin' around, partner up and split the caps instead?” there's a smidge of hopefulness in your tone, yet he also feels as though you’ve left no room for a no from him.

he sucks his teeth, looking up as if contemplating his answer. though, the both of you already know what he’ll say. finally, he tips his hat to you, “alright then, 's long as you rest up till that’s healed enough. got it? don’t want you messin’ up my masterpiece,” he chuckles.

that earns him another strained laugh from you. “can’t promise i’ll stay out of a good fight, but you got it sugar.” you grin and wink.

oh lord, he thinks, he’s in for a looong ride.

TAGLIST @live-logs-and-proper @looonytooons @seeingstarks @thewastelandwriter @lacey-mercylercy

#⋆୨🩷©2024 htchnr #⋆୨⭐️cooper howard #cooper howard x fem!reader #cooper howard oneshot #cooper howard imagine #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard #the ghoul imagine #the ghoul oneshot #the ghoul fallout #fallout tv #fallout tv series #walton goggins #walton ghoulgins

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laurfilijames · 3 months

Text

Under His Kutte

Pairing: Jax Teller x female reader

Words: 3.2k

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Swearing. Sending a nude photo. Fingering. Unprotected intercourse.

Summary: When Jax forgets his kutte at your house, you make good use of it.

A/N: I am such a slut for this man especially when he wears a hat, and particularly when it's backwards. I stared at this photo for too long and needed to write about it, and with the help from @ramadiiiisme, this happened. Bonus action of The Hat™️ at the end 🫠

---

The same flustered excitement you felt in your stomach every time you saw Jax stirred up again despite having only said goodbye to him a few hours ago, the benefits of him having accidentally left his kutte behind continuing to grace you.

You placed it back on the sofa where he had carelessly discarded it last night, pretending as though you hadn’t seen it there as soon as you walked out of your bedroom earlier that morning, his rush to leave after being woken up by a phone call from Chibs making him forget his most treasured item of clothing.

You sat on the barstool at the kitchen island, sipping from a cup of coffee you had been nursing, smiling into the mug when you heard your door open and Jax strut through it as confidently and comfortably as usual.

“I left my kutte,” he explained, getting right to the point while glancing around your living room quickly, lifting up the blanket and a pillow off of the loveseat before spinning on the spot to begin his search of the sofa.

“Oh, did you? I hadn’t noticed,” you lied, your cheeks feeling a flush that was partly from the heat of the coffee but mostly from the sight of Jax. He had his Reaper Crew hat on backwards, sunglasses still on, and the sunshine had kissed the skin on his face to tint it with a healthy pink that was the same whenever he was fucking you.

Finally locating it, Jax held up his vest with a smile before shrugging it on and walking over to you, his smile bright and playful, and you knew his eyes held the same sparkle behind the black lenses that covered them that you could never forget.

He leaned down and kissed you, bracing his arms on either side of your body to land on the countertop and cage you in, forcing your body to arch back into it as he delved his tongue deep inside your mouth.

You hummed when he peeled himself away from you, your eyes feeling heavy with lust as you watched him lick his lips.

“Did you forget it on purpose?” you teased, slipping your hands beneath the leather panels to feel the warmth radiating off his body through his layers of faded shirts.

He chuckled, his hands reaching up to cup your face while he nudged your legs apart with his, standing close to you where he was able to grind his hips against you.

“You’d like to think that, wouldn’t you?”

You giggled when he grinned at you before capturing your lips again, pressing his bulge into your core to make you moan into his mouth, the fervor of your kiss growing with each pass of your tongues.

“Fuck!” he hissed, backing away from you but still holding your face in his hands. “I gotta go.”

You breathed out a disappointed sigh, tilting your head to the side as you watched him step away and try to collect himself, hoping he’d convince himself to stay for a hard and fast fuck.

His phone rang in his pocket, and he dug to answer it immediately, a hint of impatience in his voice. “Yeah, I’ll be right there. I said I’ll be right there…Five minutes! Jesus Christ.”

Jax flipped it shut and shook his head as he replaced it back in his pocket, closing the distance between you again with another smile on his face as soon as he looked at you.

“I’ll see you later.” he spoke sweetly, his tone completely different from the one he had just used to whatever poor soul had called him.

You nodded, smiling again as he kissed you once, then again, chuckling when he finally found the strength to stop and back away from you.

He stormed through to the front door in a few long strides, giving you one last grin as he shut the door behind him, and you grinned to yourself as you picked up your phone and sent him the photo you had taken just after he had called you to say he was stopping by.

You listened for the roar of his Harley to start up, feeling giddy as you waited to see if he checked his phone before taking off.

Standing, you walked over to the window, seeing him sitting on his bike looking at his phone with a huge smile on his face.

Your phone rang, his name and number lighting up the screen, and you answered through a smile so big it hurt your cheeks, “Did you forget something else?”

“Are you kidding me?” he asked, his amusement clear in his voice. “Jesus fucking Christ, how am I going to focus on anything now?”

“It’s just a little something to get you back here.”

“Like I need the help,” he said pointedly, starting his bike where it purred loudly through both the phone and the walls of your house.

“I’ll be back to deal with you soon,” he both promised and threatened, making heat surge through your body like wildfire.

“See you later, Teller.”

You hung up, tucking your lip between your teeth to stave off your smile as you looked at the photo you had sent again, feeling more than satisfied with the reaction it had gotten out of him.

You wore nothing but his kutte, your body that he had already made tired and sore from a sleepless night on full display under his leather, the bare skin on your chest bearing the claiming marks left by his mouth.

He took off quickly, his engine rumbling so loud it vibrated the house and sent a shiver down your spine, and you hoped whatever it was he was going to do was done quickly so he could get back to you soon.

You did everything you could think of to occupy yourself; laundry, dishes, even baked muffins and whipped up a casserole, knowing Jax would be hungry when he got there, or if he wasn’t, that he would be made hungry from all the things you did whenever you were together.

The impatience you felt was beginning to outgrow your arousal, the desperation in wanting to have your hands on him and his on you becoming too much to stand any longer.

Not two minutes later did you hear the distant grumble of his Harley tearing through your neighbourhood, your body conditioned over time to respond to that sound and awaken a neediness and desire that never seemed to be sated.

Even though you expected it, you still jumped when Jax barrelled through the door with a hungry and desperate look on his face as he stared you down while kicking off his white sneakers, his grin sly and crooked.

“Why the fuck aren’t you naked yet?” he panted, crossing the room to get to where you stood waiting for him.

“Isn’t half the fun undressing me?”

“Yeah, but when I’ve been staring at that pic you sent me all day, I kinda want to get to the point,” he explained, his eyebrows lifting upward while he tugged his jeans down to the floor.

He still had his ball cap on, worn with the bill of it facing forward this time, the shade casting on his face making his blue eyes glow like flames in the shadow.

Jax slipped his kutte off, placing it carefully on the back of the sofa as if making a point that he knew where it was or would be needing it again soon, and stepped toward you, tipping his head and giving you a piercing look.

“Now, get naked.”

You obeyed with a grin, crossing your arms to grab at the hem of his ‘SAMCRO’ t-shirt, pulling it over your head where you had the satisfaction of hearing Jax’s breath hitch when your tits became exposed, and tossed it on the floor beside you.

Remaining in your panties, you went to assist him with his clothes, only to have him grip your wrists, his long fingers wrapping around them securely.

“That’s not naked, sweetheart.”

You glared at him as he released you, making a point to slowly hook your thumbs in the waist of them and inch by torturous inch, crept them down your hips.

“Jesus Christ,” he huffed impatiently, even though he was still smiling.

A furious look flashed in his eyes when you pulled them back up to their rightful place, challenging what he would do, and you gasped in equal shock and fear when he grabbed onto your thong and tore them roughly down your thighs.

He crashed against your lips, kissing you with a demand that reminded you that he wasn’t playing games, your body flinching when his fingers trailed along your hip and to your soaked pussy.

Spreading your legs further apart, you moaned into his mouth, rocking on his hand as he drove two fingers inside you, hooking them to massage your g-spot.

Within minutes he had you on the edge, fucking you with his fingers until you were a whimpering mess ready to completely fall apart, but he stopped his movements and withdrew his hand from you, smirking at you with a smugness that managed to turn you on even more.

“Fuck, Jax,” you hissed, your breathing sharp as an untamed feeling ran through your veins.

“Hang on, darlin’” he drawled, his tone all-too happy considering what he just did to you.

He took off his hat and then tore his shirts off his torso, leaving him in his boxers that did nothing to disguise how large and hard he was, and had he not tugged them off himself, you were seconds away from doing it for him, your need for him increasing to the highest point when his cock sprang free.

“Put the hat back on,” you requested, your voice so lusty it was almost unrecognizable.

You squirmed in place, seeing the surprise in his features as he did as you asked and placed it back over his messy, blond tresses that crept out wildly from under it, his expression turned cocky in knowing how horny you were.

A half-satisfied smile pulled at your lips when he stood up against you, wrapping his arms behind your back where his hands carded up and down, returning your smile.

You leaned back slightly, reaching up to grip the bill of it to spin it around, facing it backwards just as he had worn it earlier.

“Happy now?” he chuckled.

You nodded, “Mhm. Are you?”

“Fuck, no!” he admitted jokingly through another laugh, reaching over for his kutte that he hadn’t for a second forgotten about you wearing earlier.

Guiding each of your arms through it, he brought it up to rest on your shoulders, holding onto the edges of its opening as his thumbs moved to rub your nipples until they hardened, making you shiver while a breathy whine passed your lips.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered, his mouth so close to you that his lips grazed your parted ones when he spoke.

You let your eyes close, waiting for him to give you the pleasure he was never selfish with, holding your breath until you felt his lips press onto your neck and down over your chest, his hands falling to your waist and then your hip, smoothing over the curve of your bum where he squeezed your flesh and gave it a playful slap.

Your giggle was swallowed when he kissed you, and you felt his own laugh shake through his chest when you brought your hands up to it, sliding them up to cradle his neck and let your fingers dance where his hair brushed along his bare shoulders.

In a swift motion that caught you off-guard, Jax lifted you into his arms, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist where he backed you up against the wall, thudding against the drywall as he pressed his body hard into yours.

Your nails raked across his shoulders and upper back, roaming to tangle in his hair that wasn’t trapped beneath his hat, and when he lined his cock up to your spread pussy and guided himself inside, you pulled at the strands that were woven between your fingers, his reaction to both sensations reverberating in your mouth.

Jax unleashed all his power on you, holding you up while slamming into you aggressively, the photos that hung on your wall rattling and banging with his barbaric movements.

Doing the best you could to move with him, you humped up and down in an effort to rub your clit on the coarse, wheat coloured pubes above his cock, feeling your climax begin to build again where it had been left teetering on the edge.

You caught Jax staring at your exposed tits, his vest having opened to put them fully on display where they bounced to the enthusiasm of his thrusts and your erratic rocking, his pupils blown out wide with lust.

“You look so fucking good, baby,” he growled, taking one last look at the erotic scene before meeting his mouth with yours, his kiss sloppy and rough.

A sweat started to break out on both of your bodies, your skin able to slip and glide on his easier with the harder you worked, the hair at the base of his neck damp when you moved your fingers along it.

Jax was always completely enamoured when he fucked you, but for some reason with you wearing his kutte today, he found himself in even more of a state, destroying you with reckless abandon to create the whimpering mess before him that he craved to see, the sounds he pulled from you the sweetest ones he'd ever heard. He was convinced it had something to do with the way his Vice President patch kept swaying beside your right breast as your chest shook in time to his ruthless pace, or the way the worn, faded, black leather and the white on all the labels that had turned dingey over time looked against your supple skin, and the thought of fucking you in it when it ranked him as President one day instead had him ready to explode.

The sense of pride he felt when it came to his club and displaying its logos was something he never took lightly, and seeing them on you intensified it even more, making it seem like no one else could wear them as well as you.

He became almost possessive, wanting to claim you and prove to you all the things he never vocalized all while knowing without hesitation that everything under that piece of leather was his and his only.

He kissed you roughly, not caring that the scruff on his face was turning your skin raw or that his teeth had knocked against yours more than once in his frenzy to get enough of you, feeling your pussy get wetter with every drive of his dick inside it.

“Fucking turn around!” he spat through gritted teeth, giving the order despite forcing you to do it anyway. He dropped your legs and had you spun around and planted against the wall in a matter of seconds, his hand wrapped around the back of your neck to guide you forward, pushing you down so you hinged at your waist and were bent over.

His other hand gripped at your ass to spread your cheeks apart, his cock finding your open cunt without needing any help, slamming into you so hard you had to brace yourself on the wall to stop your face from hitting it.

“God, I’m gonna - fuck! - I’m gonna cum, Jax!” you wailed, your ability to speak properly taken away when he reached around you and started rubbing your clit.

“Yeah?” he huffed, mesmerized in the sight of his glistening cock pumping in and out of you. “You gonna cream all over me, you fucking slut?”

The way he barked that name made you shiver, your mouth filling with saliva to a point you couldn't even contain it anymore, feeling it drool out as your jaw went slack and your climax billowed its way to the surface.

Exhilaration took over you, your moans and cries of approval of how hard Jax was fucking you making him increase his fervor, creating a domino effect of you growing louder and his own moans to sound out and intoxicate you further, the mix of everything so dizzying that it was impossible to imagine a better high.

Jax chuckled behind you, the sound maniacal and deliciously twisted. “That’s it, fuck…”

You let go, accepting the way his body threw you into a trembling orgasm, clenching hard around his cock as he proceeded to pound you mercilessly, hearing his grunts and growls increase in volume and consistency as he honed in on his own end.

He couldn’t look away, watching your combined milky spend leak out of you as he continued to fuck you, your ass cheeks shaking along to his irregular thrusts, the Reaper patch spread out across your back as you took every blow he gave you a sight he would never tire of.

His hand was soaked when he removed it from between your legs, bringing his fingers to his mouth where he sucked them clean, keeping his dick buried inside you until he couldn't anymore.

You closed your eyes as you worked at steadying your breath, your fingers continuing to grip the wall even as you slowly began to straighten your body, feeling full and close to him despite him having slipped from you.

Sweaty handprints temporarily stained the paint when you opened your heavy lids again, smiling at the tingling afterglow that filled your veins, that smile growing bigger when you felt Jax press his lips to your dewy neck where he kissed your sensitive skin with gratitude. You were spun around again, gentler this time, his sweet smile matching yours as he brought his hands up to cup your cheeks, your hands wrapping around his damp back to help support you as you stood on unreliable legs.

He was heavenly in his post-fuck glow, small beads of sweat dancing just below the edge of his hat, his skin tinged with a pinkish blush from his efforts, his pulse hammering in his neck. His lips looked more inviting than usual, plump and moist, and when his tongue licked across them before dipping to capture yours, you swore your own pulse ceased in its duties.

The way he looked at you when he pulled away after kissing you slowly was curious, a softness and devotion reflecting in his cerulean blues that made your heart beat faster after having just managed to regulate it.

“You look like you've got something to say, Jax,” you breathed, wondering if there would ever be a day that he would say what he felt.

He shrugged, his thumbs stroking your heated face as he tilted his head, looking between your bodies at yours clad in nothing but his kutte, seeing his cum dripping down your thigh.

“I think I'll be leaving this here more often.”

You both laughed as he kissed you again, shuffling forward to push you against the wall where he was able to press his lips to yours as much as he wanted to.

---

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Taglist: @sotwk @dailydragon08 @sunnys-day @thedreadandthefugitivemind @glassgulls @littlenosoul @glitterypirateduck @momia2910 @maggotzombie @rmwarn90 @paintlavillered @stealfromthedevil @kmc1989 @rhoorl

#jax teller #jax teller smut #jax teller x female reader #jax teller x reader #charlie hunnam #sons of anarchy #jax teller fic #sons of anarchy fic #charlie hunnam characters #samcro

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neonghostlights · 11 months

Note

If you’re taking requests could you write something with Eddie surviving the upside down and he’s trying to get back into the swing of things. He moves in with reader so she can care for him. She gets his pills for him everyday, makes sure he takes them, changes his bandages helps him bathe and changes his clothes. I just picture everyone over sitting around a table it’s the first time they’ve seen Eddie since he’s discharged from the hospital, maybe a game night or eating pizza and Eddie is all bandaged up under a t shirt and sweatpants. No one has ever seen him without his leather jacket or jean vest. Reader is behind him guiding him to the table and he’s kind of groany as he sits down. Nobody really knows how to act around him they are just grateful he’s alive. Maybe he’s struggling to find his independence, but it’s not readers fault she has been his rock through everything. Angst, but Happy ending please please

Hi, this was my first request ever! Hope I did okay.

Warnings: Pills/Pain medication, Parental Drug Addiction, Pain, Wounds, Eddie gets a little grumpy, 18+ only

Word count: 2.5k

Even If It Hurts

Eddie sat on the side of the bed with his head in his hands. His hair sat in a bun at the nape of his neck, now loose from sleep. The sheets of the bed were pulled back on both sides. Your empty spot cold since you had been up for probably a while by now.

The sound of you clinking around through the kitchen made Eddie want to smile but he couldn't bring himself to. Mornings were the worst for his pain. Lying in bed for hours while being unconscious and utterly still made it excruciating when it was finally time to move his muscles. Even just sitting on the side of the bed unassisted was painful.

It was progress though. He couldn’t do this a few weeks ago. He knew you were going to be so proud of him when you came in here to collect him. He wouldn’t tell you how painful it was or how it took everything inside him not to scream or thrash just from moving his torso. He wouldn’t tell you how he had to put a piece of the blanket between his teeth so no noises would slip through.

Your slippered feet pattered down the hall towards him. Each scuff against the wooden floor boards bringing you closer to him.

You peeked your head into the room, eyes searching Eddie’s spot in the bed. When you saw him sitting up, using the edge of the nightstand as a crutch to hold himself in place, your eyes grew wide.

“Look at you,” you cooed softly. Not ready to break the trance of the early morning.

Eddie made a face. Perhaps it could be qualified as a smile but it was more like a grimace. He tried to hide his pain from you sometimes but you knew. Smiles from Eddie were hard to come by these days. You tried so hard to bring back the personality of the man you knew. The doctors told you it would take a while. He went through something traumatic and that changes a person. You were told to give him some space.

But you had some tricks up your sleeves.

You held the pain pill in your palm out to him. He was able to do this part on his own, the placing of the pill on the tongue. You placed the glass of water to his lips when he was ready, tilting it for him to wash it down. It was too heavy for him to lift on his own before the pain medication kicked in. Only a dribble of water ran down his chin this time, an improvement from when you first started doing this for him and you would both end up soaked.

Eddie had a hard time when he first left the hospital a few weeks ago with taking the pain medication. It reminded him of his fathers addiction too much. Eddie was always aware of the dangers of prescription pills, which was why he stuck to weed mostly. But after refusing to take them the pain became too much and he was crying and begging for them. You and him had come up with a good routine, you thought. It kept him on track without feeling like he was taking too many.

Eddie gulped the pill and water down, taking a deep breath of relief when he was able to breathe again.

“Physical therapy is gonna be proud,” you hummed as you set up his walker. The buttons clicking into place loudly throughout the mostly quiet room. Eddie didn’t say anything in reply, just a little nod of his head that you barely caught out the corner of your eye.

You put the walker in front of him, holding it down with force so he could pull himself up without it falling over or moving out of his grasp.

He shifted and shuffled, moving to the edge of the bed. It was too soon for the pain pills to completely kick in yet, but it was a little easier to move now that his body had warmed up some this morning.

With a quick 1,2,3 murmured under his breath he pushed himself up, latching onto the walker before his upper half could fall back onto the bed. He had to move around, even if it hurts.

Eddie had once dreamed about being in a shower with a pretty girl.

His dreams never included wound cleaning and a cold plastic shower chair though.

You stood behind Eddie, detachable shower head in hand as you wet his hair. The curls stretched out across the top of his back. His hair weighed down from the weight of the water. His hair always looked longer like this. It made him excited to grow it out even longer.

There had been a time when he got out of the hospital where he thought he was going to have to cut it all out.

Thanks to you, a whole bottle of conditioner, three combs, and a thing of detangling spray, you were able to save his hair.

It wasn’t just his hair though. You had saved a lot of parts of him since he’d woken up in that hospital bed. It made him emotional to think about the way you were so soft with him even when he didn’t deserve it. He didn’t know how to voice his thanks enough for you to understand how deeply grateful he was for you.

You worked the suds of the shampoo through the strands of hair. You took your time when you did this, making sure to rub his scalp in a way that sent tingles down his spine.

The feeling was becoming too much along with his already emotional thoughts of the morning. A few tears slipped out, trailing down his cheeks. They blended in with the water that already dripped off him from the shower head, disappearing down the drain where they would remain a secret. Eddie hated how much he cried now. It was always either from the pain or the guilt of having you care for him like this. He knew you didn't mind having to do everything for him. He knew one day he would be independent again. He just didn’t think he deserved a love like this.

After the shower, you dried his hair while he took care of drying his body. Always careful to not open any wounds. You applied the thick, strong smelling ointment to his injuries with precision before wrapping them in gauze and tape. It burnt when the smell of the medicine hit his nose. Wayne had tried to do this one time but he and Eddie couldn’t get the bandages to look as neat as you did.

Wayne felt bad about taking the back seat and letting you do all of this for his nephew. He felt like as a parent it was his responsibility. His back was bad though from years of working at the plant. After a day of helping Eddie, Wayne could hardly walk. After that, it was agreed that you would do all of the heavy lifting. Each day it became less tough with Eddie’s growing independence. It may seem small, but it was a massive improvement from when he first came home and couldn’t get out of the bed.

The toughest part of the day was over. Bathroom and hygiene needs were met, breakfast eaten, the rest of the morning pills down, and stretches prescribed by the physical therapist completed. Eddie sat back in the recliner, dozing off in front of the TV while you cleaned.

Usually you would sit with him and watch the talk shows he complained about but secretly loved. He craned his neck, trying to get a glance of you as you wiped down the kitchen table.

You must have felt his stare because you looked up at him, gracing him with a pretty smile.

“Come sit with me,” Eddie requested. “You’re doing too much.”

You dropped the rag on the table before making your way to him. “You feeling neglected in here?” You asked, a hint of humor in your voice.

Eddie let out a small laugh. His hand found yours as you stood beside where he sat. His rough hands rubbed against your soft ones. No matter how much lotion you slathered on him, the calluses from years of guitar playing just weren’t going to disappear.

“Our shows on,” he said, nodding his head at the TV.

“It is,” you said with a smile, pushing a stray strand of hair off his forehead. You would need to trim his bangs soon. That could be added onto the to do list for tomorrow.

“Come here,” he muttered, tugging on you as much as he could to bring you down into the recliner with him.

“Eddie,” you warned. “I can’t get in here with you. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t,” he said as you carefully sat beside him, trying not to touch him.

Eddie used as much of his upper body as he could to position you closer. When you noticed he wasn’t going to give up, you scooted closer. Carefully placing your head on his shoulder.

“You’re doing better every day, Eds,” you whispered to him softly as his eyes grew heavy.

Eddie wasn’t sure how long he dozed off for. The sound of soft talking is what pulled him out of his dream. He reflectively patted beside him, looking for you. Only to find the spot empty but still warm.

He sighed as he stretched his limbs. The pain medicine from earlier were still in his system, helping to take the edge off.

“Wakey, wakey,” someone said from beside him. Eddie jerked slightly, not prepared to have a stranger so close to his face.

“Dustin,” you scolded, your voice farther away.

Eddie’s eyes focused on the face of his friend just inches away from his own.

“Henderson? What the hell are you doing?” Eddie questioned, leaning back slightly.

“It’s game night! Come on!” Dustin said enthusiastically, pulling the blanket off Eddie.

Eddie grumbled at the cold air hitting his skin. His arms automatically came up to cover his chest even though he had a tshirt on.

“Dustin!” You yelled, coming closer to intervene.

“What? I’m just going to help him up,” Dustin explained.

“I got it. Why don’t you help Steve with the pizza?” You begged.

Dustin walked away, mumbling about how Steve can’t even put some pizza on plates by himself.

Eddie looked up at you in question.

“Please don’t be mad,” you said softly so the visitors in the kitchen couldn’t hear you. “It was Dustin's idea. They just miss you so much.”

Eddie wasn’t mad at you. He just wasn’t ready. He hadn’t seen any one besides you or Wayne since he was discharged from the hospital. Everyone had called a few times to speak with him, and when they did he would pass the phone off to you so you could make an excuse for him.

It wasn’t like he was avoiding them or anything. He was just embarrassed to be seen like this.

You pulled the walker in front of the recliner so Eddie could get up.

“Do you need to go to the bathroom before we go sit in the kitchen?” You asked.

Eddie stared at you wide eyed, looking to make sure no one had heard you ask him that. He was used to you helping him to the toilet, but he didn’t want anyone else to know that. He shook his head quickly.

You caught on to what his look meant and snapped your mouth shut tightly.

Eddie pushed himself up from the recliner without warning and left the walker behind. You stuck a hand out to help him as he slowly walked to the kitchen table, wobbling without his extra support. He knew he would get an earful from you about it later but he didn’t want them to see him with the walker.

He held onto you as you helped ease him into the kitchen chair. A low sound of pain erupted from his throat without warning. Sitting in the kitchen chairs was the worst for him. You had put a pillow in the seat and behind his back but it was still hard.

Eddie looked up when he finally got situated to see all the eyes in the room on him.

“What?” He asked, the word came out snappier than he intended it to.

Steve was the first to speak up. “It’s just good to see you, man.”

Nancy nodded along. “It looks like you’re doing a lot better.”

Robin had a strange look on her face as she stared at Eddie. He raised a brow at her, telling her to go ahead and say what she wanted to say.

“You’re not wearing black,” she blurted out. “It’s weird. But, like, totally in a good way.”

Eddie looked down at his white t-shirt and gray sweatpants combination and he couldn't hold back the laugh that came out of him. The rest of the table seemed to relax at his reaction, letting out a few chuckles of their own. You stared at him worried.

“I got eaten by monster bats. I’m covered in bandages. I look like shit. I have to use a walker to get around. I can’t hardly do anything on my own. And you think the not wearing black is weird?” He finally asked through his laughs.

“We don’t care about that,” Mike spoke up. “We’re just happy you’re alive.”

Eddie sobered at this, looking around at all his friends sitting around the table. Some new and some old.

He felt like he belonged here with these people that he fought to save the world with. That he almost gave up his life for.

You reached over and squeezed his hand, noticing the emotion in his eyes.

“Wayne brought over some of your dungeon master stuff he was able to save from the trailer. I figured we could play some DnD tonight?” You said.

Eddie couldn’t help the smile that broke across his face.

Eddie still had it, even after over a month without touching DnD.

He relaxed into the bed, reminiscing on the night he had. Things were awkward at first until the ice finally broke and everyone was bickering and joking with each other again.

He could've played for hours longer but his body was screaming at him to rest. You finally made everyone go home, with plans to do this again next week.

You were laid beside him, eyes closing and drifting off into sleep.

“Thank you,” Eddie whispered into the darkness, hoping you were still awake enough to hear him.

You didn’t answer because you didn’t need to. You simply reached over and started to trace shapes across his arm. Eddie felt the words “I love you” being drawn across his skin.

“I love you,” he said out loud before sleep overtook him.

The next day, Eddie was able to do a little bit more and then even more the day after. Slowly but surely, he healed with you and his friends by his side.

#eddie munson au #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson series #eddie munson imagine #eddie stranger things #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x you #eddie munson lives #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson request

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where-does-the-heart-lie · 1 year

Text

Grand Line Crew Modern Au Gang!

i hope yall enjoy, this took a while to get all together, here

ASL post

East Blue Crew post

Friends we made along the way 1 post

Friends we made along the way 2 post

i dont have many additional headcanons for this lot, but i did write a short story with them :) enjoy

Brook only wears the absolute grooviest of clothing at all times.

That’s just gonna have to be there 👆 tumblr likes to glitch out my posts.

Dont give chopper caffeine. He’ll either have a heart attack or operate on 5x speed, its a gamble every time.

robin and franky love watching home improvement shows, house hunters, how its made, myth busters, and other technical shows together.

When Luffy shows robin memes on his phone, she takes out her reading glasses and holds the phone like a mom does. Ya know that squint. You know.

Jinbei used to be a trucker and had a convoy with s bunch of his truckin’ buddies. They had matching leather jackets with “the sun truckers” embroidered on the back

Franky has a wig closet. It is vast. If you went in there you'd think you were in Narnia or something

Chopper is BEYOND CONVINCED that Sabo is a vampire.

One day, sabo volunteered as an assistant in a medical class chopper was taking. He was acting as chopper’s patient as he was learning the patient procedures of a checkup.

It was all going fine, chopper got all the patient identification out of the way and next was to acquire blood pressure, breath count, and heart rate. But the stethoscope and pressure monitor wasn’t working, and it make it seem like Sabo,,, didnt have a pumping heart,, or blood,,, or really breathed at all(he doesnt take very visible breaths).

Chopper was stricken with fear at this and assumed the absolute worse as he looked in horror at Sabo’s naturally pale complexion and long canine teeth. Chopper simply jotted down the average count of each recording instead of getting new equipment, and tried not to think about it, but

“huh, all of those numbers are usually lower than that. Maybe all that Special Concoction™ i drink is finally catching up to my heart rate.”

“how much have you.. drunk?”

“like for today? Or since I woke up.”

Chopper is fucking horrified. Sabo woke up to being a vampire and drinks blood as a special concoction. He cannot believe this.

”Never mind, I don't need to know, its all normal, you're normal.”

“Wow… that's the first time a medical practitioner has called me normal. My brothers are gonna get a real kick outta this.”

CHOPPER IS FUCKING HORRIFIED. HE HAS BRETHEREN??? Chopper just keeps his head down and finishes up the check up practice as Sabo remarks he has another class in the blood bank, which was lemon in the paper cut for chopper.

For a month or so after that day, Chopper didn’t see Sabo at all, and he forgot about his fear for a little while. However one night as chopper was hanging with Luffy and a few others in the straw hat friend group, there was a knock at the door. Chopper happily said “I’ll get it~” as the rest of the group continued in conversation.

Chopper skips over to the door and when he opens it, he sees the figure of Sabo standing in front of him. Tall and opposing, smiling a big toothy grin with bright blue eyes shining from the overhead lighting. He’s wearing a long trench coat with the collar popped and an ascot was wrapped around his neck.

What chopper was seeing before him.

Was the vampire.

He let out a scream right out of a horror film and promptly fainted.

A minute or two later, he awoke laying on the couch, feet elevated and vest unbuttoned, to his friends looking at him from the foot of the couch.

He goes to stand up, but a strong gloved hand stops his movement and guides him back down

“Don't get up too quickly, little man.”

Chopper looked next to him and saw The Vampire. What was he doing in his house?!?!?

“Are you alright, bud? You opened the door for me, screamed in my face, and then passed out.”

“I’m fine, thank you,” Chopper said with the highest voice-crack to word ratio in his entire life.

“Right. Well again, dont get up too quickly, if you need water or anything let your friends know. I just came here to pick up Luffy cuz some family stuff came up. Have a good night!”

“…you too, and thanks for taking care of me…”

“No prob!”

“One last question?” Inquired chopper.

“What's up?”

“Did someone invite you in?”

the end

PS: Sabo's "special concoction" consists of Red Bull and Espresso. He hasn't slept in 72 hours. This will have lasting effects on his health.

thats all for now! thanks for reading~

#i am constantly delighted at how “crew” rhymes with “AU”#my art #one piece #one piece fan art #tony tony chopper #chopper #nico robin #cyborg franky #soul king brook #jinbe #one piece modern au #op modern au

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drabblesandimagines · 25 days

Text

Chocobo

Cloud Strife x female reader, primarily fluff, mentions of blood, cat-calling behaviour, unwanted attention (No Rebirth spoilers!)

You hated Thursdays – extended opening hours as well as a two-for-one special at the sleazy bar where you worked in Wall Market.

It was always a busy, rushed off your feet shift – Shinra middle managers coming down from the plate to take advantage of the deal and, of course, your boss offset the cost by scheduling only two of you on the bar. The more the drinks flowed, the ruder and more demanding the patrons would become, and you always ended the night damp with sweat and beer. Every Thursday, when you trudged back to Sector 7 in the early hours in the morning, was a reminder of how you needed to get a different job, but that’s easier said than done.

Your colleague heads off at 11 with a sympathetic wave – there’s a half hour until final call, but of course everyone gets another round of drinks in before then, so you’re scheduled till just after midnight, slowly but surely clearing the decks and pointing any patrons not ready to give up on their night out towards the Honey Bee Inn.

After completing the reset of the bar a little later than you’d hoped, you finally lock the doors and begin the walk back to Sector 7 at a brisk pace. It’s not a bad walk, really, all things considered – there’s a direct enough route to the main gate – but it doesn’t mean you in any way look forward to it.

There’s a shrill wolf-whistle from behind you and your shoulders tense.

“Hey, good-looking.”

You tuck your chin down and keep on walking. Working in Wall Market, whatever time of day, meant there were catcalls more often that not. You’d learnt that if you don’t reward them with attention, they’ll get bored and leave you alone soon enough – there’s always someone else.

“Oh, too good for me, are you?” This one seems a little more persistent – probably aided by the alcohol running around his veins by the slur in his words.

He jogs around to in front of you and begins walking backwards with a chuckle. You glance up briefly to find he looks absolutely idiotic - sunglasses in the middle of the night, an open denim vest, mohawk, cocky smirk and low leather pants. Your stomach sinks as you recognize him - one of Corneo’s men.

You tuck you chin back down. He’ll find someone else to bother, maybe he’ll even find someone else who’s into his advances? Just don’t engage.

Mohawk doesn’t take kindly to you ignoring him and he moves to your side, matching your pace and absolutely reeking of alcohol. You’re surprised he can even see straight, a little bit impressed he pulled off the walking backwards stunt earlier, or maybe it was just dumb luck.

“Why are you in such a hurry, sweetheart?” Mohawk doesn’t give you time to respond, grabbing you with one arm, pulling you close into his chest and wrapping his arm around your neck in a loose headlock.

“There we go.” His breath tickles your ear. “Walk with me, baby. We can get to know one another a little better.”

You think of screaming, maybe if you drew attention he’d decide you’re not worth the effort… but if you’ve recognized him as one of Corneo’s men, others would’ve too and would be unlikely to step in. Don Corneo knows everyone’s secrets around here, too powerful a man to make an enemy of.

“Sorry, I…” You try and duck out of his hold, but he squeezes you tight around the shoulders. “I really need to get home.”

“Oh, got someone waiting?” He forces you left, out of the main thoroughfare towards the gate and home, sending you down a side alley. You know Wall Market well enough that this will loop you back down towards Corneo’s mansion if you kept on the same route.

You also know people who tend to go into Corneo’s mansion don’t come out.

“I’m… I’m really sorry, I’m tired.” The panic is unmistakable in your voice and he laughs, continuing to force you along. “How about some other time? Another night? I need to get some sleep – it was a really long shift.”

“Yeah, I saw you at work earlier, sweetheart.” He grins. “I liked your friend, but when I came back she was already gone. You’re pretty too, though. We’re gonna have a lot of fun.”

You stomp on his foot then in a moment of pure adrenaline, digging all your weight through your heel and onto his toes. He yells, arm dropping around from your shoulders and you waste no time in sprinting back the alleyway. If you ducked under some of the air vents, maybe you could make it across the way to the Honey Bee Inn - you’re on first name terms with some of the girls, maybe there’s enough Gil in your pocket to buy a drink and find a quiet booth…

A hand grabs your hair and yanks you back so hard you’re surprised a clump isn’t pulled out, your arm twisted behind, before you are swung face first into the wall, spots of black dancing in your vision and a pain exploding in your head at the contact. Tangy blood dribbles down into your mouth and all you can do is whimper as he twists your arm again.

“Oh, you like pain, huh?” He smirks as he yanks your head back further, forcing you to look up at him. You swear you can feel the bones creak in your arm as he continues twisting. “I’ll show you pain, sweetheart. We’ve got all night to spend together after all.”

“No, you don’t.”

There’s a loud metallic clang against the wall further up and Mohawk turns to look, one hand still fisted in your hair. A blonde spikey haired man, dressed in black stands a few metres behind. His eyes are telltale Mako blue, holding an oversized sword with ease aloft, his muscular forearms not even tensing with the weight as he glares at the assailant over your head.

“Piss off, blondie. I saw her first.” He twists your arm again, making you yelp.

The blonde swings the sword around his head a few times, effortlessly, before holding in front of him in a battle-ready stance.

“You lay a hand on her again and I’ll take it clean off of you.”

Mohawk laughs, cockily. “Sure, you w-”

The blonde lunges forward and swipes it cleanly over your captor’s head, slicing off a good chunk of his hair with millimeter precision. Mohawk’s grip on your hair and arm immediately falter and he steps back, now holding his hands aloft as your legs completely give out beneath you, collapsing down on the ground, breathless and heart pounding.

“Okay, o-okay, man! No n-need for v-violence! S-s-she’s all yours.” Mohawk turns on his heel and sprints off in a panic, quickly swallowed up by the darkness of the alley ahead.

“Are you okay?” The stranger sheathes the sword onto his back and steps forward, his face unreadable. You can’t help but flinch as he approaches, unconsciously scooting backwards until your back hits the wall.

“Please – I just…” Your heart is pounding in your ears. “I won’t say anything, I promise.”

The mako-infused eyes widen and he steps back, holding his hands up in an attempt at a friendly gesture. “Easy – I’m not going to hurt you.”

He fiddles with the cuff of his glove for a moment, removing a small green orb, before crouching down in front of you.

“That was a real nasty blow you took. Let me just…” He holds his palm out - a healing materia, allowing him to perform cure, sits in the centre – and he closes his eyes in concentration for a moment before green whisps of light emit and sink into your skin, soothing the throbbing pain in your nose and skull till no ache remains at all. You rub your nose on your arm, tentatively, trying to remove some of the blood but you know it’ll be a job for the bathroom mirror later on.

“Thank you. I, erm…” You hesitate before dipping a hand in your jacket pocket at the same time he replaces the materia in his glove. “I-I don’t have a lot of money on me, but-”

“You think I only did that to earn Gil?” He seems offended.

You flinch at his tone. “N-no. Sorry, just it’s Wall Market, people don’t help each other for nothing. Everyone has an agenda.”

“What do you think mine is?”

You swallow. “A SOLDIER…”

“Ex-SOLDIER.” He corrects. “Have Shinra troops taken your money before?”

“There… was some rowdy drunks once. Started smashing things in the bar. Some off-duty troopers said they’d remove them, but I had to give them my night’s wages.”

“Shitheads.” He mutters, getting to his feet. “I don’t want your money. I just don’t like entitled assholes.”

“Thank you.” You get up to your feet, a palm on the wall to steady you, before offering your hand and name.

He takes it in a firm grip, shaking it lightly. “Cloud Strife.”

“I’d say pleasure to meet you, but maybe not in these circumstances.” You force a laugh, but it’s too breathy, but you don’t want to cry. You know he felt your hand trembling when he’d accepted the handshake, adrenaline still coursing its way through your veins - that was the worst encounter you’d ever had in Wall Market. “Thank you again.”

“Don’t mention it.” Cloud pauses for a moment, considering his next sentence. “You were on your way home?”

“I was trying, yeah.”

“Do you live far?”

“Sector 7 slums.”

“I’m heading that way too - live in Stargazer Heights.” He grabs one arm with the other, looking a little awkward. “Marle’s the landlady.” You know Marle – she’s often sat on her porch outside the apartment block in the day, saying hello to all that pass. “We could walk together.”

“That…” You stick your trembling hands in your jacket pockets, hoping that might get them to stop. “That would be nice, actually. If you don’t mind.”

“Nah.” He shrugs. “Lead the way,”

You nod, taking a cautious step forward, then another. Cloud keeps a respectable distance as you walk out of the alley in silence. The street is completely dead now as you head towards the main gate, but you’re grateful to have the mercenary to your side.

“What brought you to Wall Market tonight, then?” He doesn’t seem drunk, which is the usual draw.

“Colosseum - making some Gil on the fights. You were working?”

“Mm. Thursdays are tough.”

“Money too good to quit?”

“Probably don’t need to tell you how difficult it is to get a job at the moment, so it’s hard to let it go. It’s work there or risk being evicted.” You pause, pre-empting what he might say. “I know I should quit, then I wouldn’t have to deal with creeps like that guy…”

“That creep should’ve taken no for an answer.” Cloud replies, deadpan.

“In an ideal world, sure.” Your stupid hands are still shaking, but it’s travelled up your arms now, making your shoulders shudder.

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” He takes a step ahead of you to get a better look, still mindful to keep a respectful distance.

“Yeah.” You don’t even sound convincing to your own ears.

“You don’t have to pretend - probably still processing what happened. Why don’t you sit for a moment?” You haven’t even made it that far outside of Wall Market – just outside Sam’s Delivery Service – the proprietor is nowhere to be seen but a chocobo kwehs softly in its paddock and there’s a few benches dotted around outside, intended to be used by patrons.

“Erm… Okay. Just for a minute.” The tremble has made it to your legs, almost like pins and needles. You sit down heavily on the bench and exhale, slowly, digging your nails into your palms. Cloud remains standing to the side, awkwardly. “You can sit too.”

“You sure?” He quirks an eyebrow.

“Yeah. Please.” It would feel better if he sat down rather than hovering over you. He slides the sword off his back and leans it against the side of the bench, before taking a seat. His legs brushes against yours ever so slightly as he sits and you flinch back at the same time as he does.

“Sorry.” The two of you chorus.

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

“Neither do you.”

“True.” He murmurs.

You sit in silence for five minutes, your legs gradually getting more and more jittery, your heels starting to bounce against the dirt under your feet and an unwanted burning sensation at your eyes as you reflect upon the evening’s events, what would’ve happened if Cloud hadn’t have…

You swallow around the lump that has developed in your throat. For Shiva’s sake, you admonish yourself, don’t cry now in front of this random man. You’re safe, you’re fine, you’re not even injured anym-

“Hey, do you think my hair looks like a chocobo?” The question comes so far out of left-field your mind stops at once from its spiral.

“What?” You look over at him, convinced you haven’t heard him right.

“My hair – does it remind you of a chocobo? Whenever this guy wants to annoy me, he calls me chocobo head.” He’s patting his locks, the blonde spikes flattening under his touch. The way he’s sitting, you can see the real-life chocobo just over his shoulder and seeing them side-by-side makes you smile, poorly concealing a laugh as the two tilt their heads perfectly in sync.

“You agree?”

“No…” You bite your lip.

“You’re not a great liar.”

“I’m sorry, just…” You point to over his shoulder and the merc turns his head. “I would’ve said no and meant it, but I can see a little bit of a comparison when you’re next to one another.”

“Huh.” He turns back, crossing his arms. “Suppose there’s worst things to be compared too.”

“Mm,” you nod. “Like, a cactaur, for example.”

“You haven’t seen me dance.”

You laugh then – a proper belly laugh at the idea of this stoic ex-SOLDIER pulling out the same moves as a cactaur. Your emotions have been on a rollercoaster for the last hour or so and it’s not surprising when a few tears fall.

Cloud looks awkward, reaching out for you with a hand before retreating it just as fast. “Sorry, I-”

“No, no, it’s okay.” You sniff, wiping the stray tears from your cheeks. “Happy tears – the image is great. Thank you – I needed that.”

He smiles for fleeting moment before it drops with a shrug of the shoulders. “Don’t mention it.”

You dry your hands off on your thighs before getting up to your feet – conscious of the time. “I think I’m good to go now.”

“Cool.” Cloud stands up, placing his hands on his hips. “Let’s mosey.”

You laugh again and a hint of a smile graces the blonde’s face once more.

The walk back is non-eventful, thankfully, accomplished in both bouts of companionable silence as well as idle chitchat. Cloud had offered you the choice to part ways at the gate of the slums, but you’d shyly asked if he could walk you all the way to your door.

"Thank you for everything,” you say, mindful of your volume given the late hour, “I’m really glad you were at the colosseum tonight.”

“Speaking of…” Cloud raises his arm to rub the back of his head, focusing his gaze on the gutter running above your door like it's the most interesting thing on the planet. “I, er, might do some more fights at the colosseum on other nights, you know? I could walk you back after. If you want.”

Your stomach flips at the offer. “That’s really sweet of you, but I only work the closing shift on a Thursday. I do afternoon shifts the rest of the week – gets me out of Wall Market before it gets too rowdy.”

“Oh.” His eyes meet yours for a brief moment before they return to the gutter. “Well, Thursdays I always do - pay-out's higher.”

“If you're sure. I mean, I don't want you going out of your way or anything.”

“I wouldn’t be,” Cloud lies. “I’d be walking that way anyhow, so we might as well walk together.”

“Okay. How about if you do find yourself nearby next Thursday around midnight, you’ll know where I’ll be and we’ll take it from there?”

“Deal.” He steps back and lifts his arm to give an awkward wave. “Night.”

You smile and give a small wave back. “Goodnight, Cloud.”

Thursday rolls around both slowly in the hope of seeing Cloud again – and you’d be a lying if you denied not having walked past Stargazer Heights throughout the past week in the hopes of bumping into him - but too fast in the way of having to deal with another night of rowdy patrons.

You’ve just locked the doors and turned to head home when you see the blonde merc the other side of the street, arms crossed, leaning up against a wall. When your eyes meet, he gives the same awkward wave he’d bid you goodbye with a week ago and walks over.

“You came.” You sound a bit more surprised than you intended.

He shrugs before he crosses his arms. “Well, I was in the area, so…”

“Lucky me. How’d the fights go?”

“Fights?” He raises his eyebrow and you bite back a smile at his slip-up. Gotcha.

“You know, at the colosseum...?”

“Oh. Yeah. Fine.” You swear you see a hint of pink across Cloud’s cheeks as he mumbles his response. “Won ‘em all.”

“Congratulations. Never had any doubt.” You turn away from him briefly to kick on the bottom of the door and push the handle down for good measure. “Okay. I’m ready to go, if you are.”

“Er, what was that?”

“It’s just a little thing to help me remember that I’ve locked the door. Nothing like getting halfway home and turning back in a panic…”

“Don’t tell me you’ve really done that.”

“I told you, I really need this job – won’t have it if I leave the bar unlocked.”

“You…” He shakes off a retort. “Forget it. Shall we?” He jerks his chin in the direction of the gate and you nod, the two of you setting off at an easy pace. “How was your night anyway? Any dickheads?”

“Not tonight.”

“Good.”

You turn out of Wall Market and walk again in silence as you pass Sam’s Delivery’s Service, one of the ranch-hands settling down a chocobo in their paddock.

“You know,” you start, scuffing your foot on the ground, “I thought I might bump into you earlier this week. The slums aren’t that big.”

“Oh. Been busy – picking up odd jobs.” He keeps his gaze ahead as he walks, scanning the path ahead for any signs of danger. “Takes me all over Midgar, really.”

“Do you like it?”

He shrugs. “Earns me gil.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“Depends on the job, I guess. Some more than others.”

“Okay, well, what would you do if you could do anything you wanted?”

“Dunno.”

“Come on,” you hurry a few steps in front of him to catch his eye, walking backwards, “that’s no fun. You said you left Shinra, so that must’ve been for a reason.”

He quickens his pace to walk alongside you, taking your arm and gently coaxing you back around. “Stop it - you’ll hurt yourself.” “Don’t use my safety as an excuse to ignore my question.” You chide, but take advantage by slipping your arm through the crook of his elbow.

“Just didn’t want to be under their thumb any longer. What do you want to do?”

“Get out from under the plate, see the world.”

“Why don’t you?”

“Costs too much gil. Have you seen the prices they’re advertising for a bus ride to Kalm when the expressway is finished?”

“Not just walk?”

You shake your head. “I can’t even walk home on my own without getting in trouble anymore, how am I going to walk to Kalm with all those fiends about? Plus, even if I got there in one piece, there’s all the other logistics – like where would I stay, how would I make a living?”

“Hm.”

“I don’t know – perhaps the world might just be too big for a slum-dweller like me.”

He frowns. “Don’t talk about yourself like that. You’re much more than that.”

“How can you be so sure?”

There’s the shrug he’s so fond of. “Call it a SOLDIER’s intuition.”

You keep your arm linked in his the whole way home until he’s escorted you back to your door once again and you reluctantly part.

“So, fighting again on Thursday?”

“I plan to. Working?”

“I plan to.” You tease back. “Thank you again, Cloud.”

You step forward and press a kiss on his cheek, then hurry inside before he can reply or even react. As you peek through a gap in the curtains, you see the merc stood still – a gloved hand hovering over the spot where you kissed.

“Ma’am?” You tense at the unfamiliar voice as you twist the key in the lock, preparing yourself to dash back into the bar and barricade the door behind you until morning, but it’s only one of the Sam’s ranch-hands – you’d seen him a few times when you passed - and your shoulders relax. Sam’s proud and ferociously protective of his business - he doesn’t want any trouble at his door so he’s scrupulous with those he hires.

“Hi.”

“Howdy,” the ranch-hand tips his hat, full of country charm. “I’ve been tasked with the delivery of a note for you.” He holds it out – folded over – and you take it, murmuring a thank you.

I’m sorry that I can’t walk you home tonight – something came up. A real chocobo should make quite a suitable replacement for me. Cloud.

“Chocobo?” You look up at the ranch-hand for confirmation.

“Ride’s already paid for, ma’am. Ready to go when you are.”

“Oh, no, I… I couldn’t accept this.”

“Mr Strife thought that might be the case. He stressed that I tell you that we offer no refunds, and he’s already tipped us to come pick you up from here and escort you back to the chocobo stop. He’d be mighty obliged if you’d accept.” You don’t picture Cloud saying that last part exactly, so it must be the ranch-hand adding in his own flavour.

“No refunds, huh?”

“No refunds.” He nods in confirmation.

“I guess I can’t argue with that.” You turn back to the bar door, twist the keys in the lock, kick the bottom of the door and tug on the handle. “Let’s go.”

“Afternoon, Marle.” You smile brightly at the landlady of Stargazer Heights the next day, bouncing up and down on your heels in an attempt to conceal your nerves. You’d never been home as early as you had last night, the chocobo ride almost over before you knew it at the speed the carriage had gone down the path. The ranch-hand had accompanied you to your door, again at Mr Strife’s instructions. You’d wondered if the giant sword Cloud had strapped to his back might’ve contributed to how determined he was to follow them to the letter.

“Afternoon. Do you come bearing gifts?”

“Mm, depends,” you move the wicker basket from one hand to another, the contents hidden by a scrap of cloth. “I was wondering, do you have a Cloud Strife in the building?”

“Oh…” She smiles, knowingly, leaning forward over the banister. “Are you the one that keeps him out all hours?”

Your cheeks burn at her comment. “N-no! I mean, he walks me home on a Thursday, but that’s it.”

“That’s what I mean. I saw him hurrying off last Thursday shy of 11. Yesterday he was in a right flap, wouldn’t stop to talk – said he had to get to Wall Market and back before going out again.”

Your scalp tingles and you can’t help the dopey smile at the thought of him rushing to book the chocobo ride for you the day before. “So, he does live here?”

“Mm.” She nods. “Room 2. And he’s in.”

You head up the flight of stairs to the side of the building and walk along to the room in question, pausing a moment before mustering up the courage to knock on the door, your heart now beginning to pound. This had seemed a good idea last night but now it’s come to the execution…

The door opens, revealing a yawning Cloud, hair more mussed up than usual but dressed in his usual attire, sans his gloves and the sword on his back. The mako-blue eyes widen at the sight of you, an unconscious hand coming up to pat down his locks.

“Hi.”

“Hi. I’m so sorry to wake you-”

“No, I was just about to get up anyway - late night. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you smile at his concern. “The chocobo ride was really sweet, but you really didn’t need to do that.”

“I know. I wanted to.”

“I can’t afford to pay you back-”

“I don’t want you to.” He cuts across. “It was… selfish, really, I just wanted to know you’d get home okay. Did they take you the whole way back?”

“He did – properly earned however much you paid extra.”

“Good.” He nods. “A… job came up, I didn’t want you to think I’d forgotten about you.”

“I wouldn’t have thought that,” you fib. “But it was still very sweet, so I wanted to repay you somehow, and I came up with two things.”

“I told you, you don’t have to-”

You stand up on your tip-toes and kiss him square on the lips, short and sweet, before stepping back, grinning at the dumbstruck look on the blonde’s face.

“That was the first.” You hold the basket aloft, “Take a look under the cloth for the second.”

Cloud’s cheeks are flushed, his mind trying to catch up with what had just happened, but he lifts the cloth as instructed to reveal a solitary gysahl green.

“Thought my favourite chocobo deserved their favourite snack too.” You can’t help the tease and Cloud shakes his head with a lovesick grin, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you forward against him, the basket dropping from your grip in surprise. He cups your cheek with a hand before he crashes his lips into yours again with enthusiasm, only pulling back when he was sure he’d stolen enough of your breath.

“Think I preferred the first.”

Comments, likes and reblogs make my whole day x

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Ko-fi

PS - I just could not resist this nod to the OG:

#ghostdogwrites #cloud strife x you #cloud strife x reader #cloud strife fluff

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ashwhowrites · 6 months

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Eddie Munson x cheerleader! Reader, Chrissy tried to help her best friend, reader, with her crush, Eddie Munson, but she's very nervous when he's around her, meanwhile, Steve tries to help Eddie with his crush, Reader, but she makes him really nervous, they go to a party, where Reader sees a girl talking with Eddie, she has piercings, tattoos, wears leather and she thinks that Eddie's into that girl and not her, so she goes out of the house and Eddie goes to look after her and tells her that that girl likes Steve, not him, and that she's his cousin and Reader just throws herself at Eddie's arms, and tells him that she was jealous bc she likes him

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it! Thank you for requesting <3

Shy game

Even though Y/N was popular and a cheerleader, had a strong voice and wasn't afraid to speak up. There was one person that made her so nervous that nothing came out of her mouth. Eddie Munson.

"He stares at you all the time! Just talk to him." Chrissy encouraged, once again here she was trying to get her best friend to just talk to Eddie.

"No way! He doesn't want some cheerleader coming up to him." Y/N argued. Eddie was not a fan of the popular crowd or people in general. She saw him shut down many girls before and she didn't want to be added to the list.

"And he probably thinks you wouldn't want him to walk up to you." Chrissy tried to reason with her. But Y/N shook her head.

~~~

"Dude, just talk to her. She's always looking at you. She wouldn't look in your direction if she disliked you." Steve groaned. There were only so many stories Steve could handle listening to about Y/N. But Eddie was too chicken to say anything to her.

"Probably because she thinks I'm a freak like the rest of the popular kids." Eddie groaned, slamming his dead down into his arms on the work counter.

"ow" Eddie said as he rubbed his forehead.

At first, Steve was happy to have Eddie join the family video store, but he didn't know all his shifts would be him talking about Y/N.

Eddie kept his head down as Steve continued to work. Once again his advice went straight out of Eddie's ear. Eddie felt Steve nudging him.... continuously.

"Can you not!" Eddie growled, picking up his head and using his hand to swat at Steve's arm. But then Steve nodded towards the door. Eddie looked and there she was.

Y/N giggled with Chrissy as they walked into the store. It was a Saturday morning, usually, no kids came in until the night shift. For once, Eddie was happy as hell he accepted a morning shift.

Eddie stared as she walked around the store. Her bright smile and pink glossy lips. Even though she was a few feet away, he could smell the sweetness of her perfume.

"Here's your chance! You're just being a helpful employee." Steve said, he shoved Eddie out from behind the counter. Pushing him in the direction of the girls.

"Hi, Eddie!" Chrissy said, loudly into Y/N's ear. A soft nudge from Chrissy as Y/N stood frozen. She bit her lip as she took in Eddie's band T-shirt, the green work vest, and his name tag. His vest was covered in pins of his favorite films. His black jeans and dirty white sneakers.

"Hi!" Eddie said, but his eyes stayed on Chrissy, he was terrified to even look at Y/N. He always felt like an idiot in that stupid work vest and now his crush had her eyes all over it.

"Horror movie fan! Y/N is too!" Chrissy observed from his vest, another nudge. But Y/N couldn't help but notice Eddie's eyes never once looked at her. Of course, he'd like Chrissy, she was perfect and so likable.

"That's sweet." Eddie coughed, his eyes moved to Y/N once, and went back to Chrissy. The small look was enough to make Eddie's heart race and his palms were drenched with sweat.

Eddie felt relief when his watch beeped.

"Time for my break, see ya." He gave a stiff nod and practically ran into the back. Neither girl had a chance to say goodbye.

"See! He barely looked at me." Y/N groaned.

~~~

Finally, the night arrived and Y/N planned to get drunk at Chrissy's party and ignore all the sad feelings she had about Eddie.

She was on the search for her first drink, eagerly pouring her red cup full. She threw in some ice and took in all the people in Chrissy's house.

~~~

Eddie was on his third drink of the night. His cousin Savannah was yapping in his ear about her date with Steve. But all Eddie could focus on was talking to Y/N. He knew he made an idiot of himself earlier and prayed the liquid courage would do all the work for him.

By the time Y/N worked her way into the living room, she found Eddie. But he wasn't alone.

A girl around his height stood across from him. She wore a T-shirt, which showed off her tattoos. She had piercings in her ears, nose, and lip. Y/N couldn't help but realize how much that girl was Eddie's type. The girl even had leather pants and a jacket around her waist. Thick black boots and dark nails. She was the perfect rockstar girlfriend.

Y/N gulped down her drink and raced to the front yard. She could barely see, the tears already welling in her eyes. It was all her fault anyway, Chrissy told her multiple times just to say something. And she refused, because of fear. Now Eddie could be free to anyone he wanted.

Eddie kept his eyes moving around the party and saw a split image of Y/N running out the front. Eddie wasn't sure if the alcohol did its job or if he was worried something happened to her, but he raced out the door behind her.

He found her on the curb, shivering as she held her body. Eddie carefully placed the jacket on her, her head snapped up as he took the spot next to her. He noticed silent tears streaming down her soft face.

"You okay?" He asked. She obviously didn't look okay, but always worth asking.

"Yeah! Just having a little moment." She tried to laugh it off. Even more embarrassed to be crying over a boy and he sat right next to her.

"We all have those! Maybe talking it out will help?" He offered.

"What's your type, Eddie?" Y/N asked, a bit of bitterness in her voice. Eddie was taken aback by the question and how snippy she sounded. "Because this morning, I swore you were checking out Chrissy, but now you are talking to this badass rocker chick. And I don't even know how I'm supposed to be either of them when they are both incredibly different." Y/N forgot how much of a lightweight she was, and hated how fast the liquor made her word vomit.

Eddie was in shock. He never thought he had a type, he just liked pretty girls. He never once thought Steve could be right about something, especially girls. But in this case, Steve was right.

"I wasn't checking out Chrissy. More of using Chrissy as a distraction from how scared I was to look at you. And the girl inside, her name is Savannah and she's my cousin. " Y/N loudly groaned as she covered her face.

"I'm an idiot!" She mumbled into her hands. Eddie laughed and gently removed her hands.

"No, you're not. It makes sense why you thought she'd be my type since she dresses like me and all. But my type is you. Not Chrissy, not rockstar chicks, fuck, not even another cheerleader. Because it's just you and it's always been just you." Eddie finally confessed. He couldn't believe just this morning he couldn't speak a word or look at her. But now he was confessing his love on a dirty curb with horny teenagers in the background.

"Just scared to talk to me?" Y/N asked.

"Yeah."

"I was too." Y/N smiled. But now she realized talking to Eddie was so easy. "I'm sorry for being jealous."

"Nothing to be sorry for. It was kinda hot." Eddie teased, a small wink as he threw his arm over her shoulder. The wink sent butterflies in her stomach as she giggled and moved closer to his body.

"How about a date? We can talk about all the things we were too scared to do." Eddie offered.

"I'd love that." Y/N smiled.

~~~

Steve smiled from the front door as he watched the two cuddle close.

Chrissy next to him with a proud smirk on her face.

"I did that." They said at the same time. Both dropped their smiles and looked at each other offended.

"You? No I did!" They said again at the same time.

"I DID!"

Tags!

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#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst x reader #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x cheerleader!reader #ashwhowrites

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