#and I’ve tried really hard not to do that these last three months

[obaex]

(not) my girl - rafe cameron

summary: if rafe cameron is so sure he doesn't need to be seen with you at midsummers, you are more than happy to oblige (or) the time you drove rafe insane with jealousy.

word count: 3.4k

a/n: inspired by this post by the sweet @writingsbychlo ♡

You were curled up on Rafe’s lap, head resting on his shoulder with his arms circled around you and his fingers mindlessly tracing patterns on your thigh as he talked with his friends around the firepit in his backyard.

You had been hooking up for a few months and recently you felt like you were right on the cusp of him asking you to make things official, exclusive. You were spending nearly every night together and every time he asked to talk or wanted to hang out you got your hopes up that this would be the time he brought it up, only to be crushed over and over again.

Deep down, you knew how Rafe felt. People who were ‘just hooking up’ didn’t beg you to stay every morning, didn’t make room in their dresser for you, didn’t wake you up with featherlight kisses to your cheeks, your forehead, your nose, face breaking into a ridiculous smile when your eyes fluttered open to find his drinking you in, they didn’t call you during a panic attack after fighting with their dad, pleading to hear your voice as the only thing that would calm them down. No, you were pretty sure you knew exactly how this boy felt, but you wanted him to acknowledge it. You ached to hear him say with pride ‘that’s my girl’, to mark you as his own.

Your eyes flitted across the fire to your best friend Olivia who wiggled her eyebrows at the sight of you and Rafe together, all too aware of the situationship you were in and how badly you wanted him. You blushed and rolled your eyes back at her, just trying to enjoy this small moment where he showed his affection for you in front of other people. She winked at you before interrupting the conversation.

“Sooo, who is everyone taking to Midsummers?”

You shot her a look that screamed what the hell are you doing!? You were still holding out hope that Rafe was going to ask you, even though it was less than a week away. Maybe he had an elaborate, last-minute surprise planned?

“Feel pretty good about my date” Kelce murmured, pressing a kiss to Olivia’s cheek as she giggled. “What about you Top, still intent on macking on Rafe’s sister?” he asked. Topper threw an empty beer can at him as everyone laughed.

“I don’t know why we even bother with dates” Rafe said. “We’re just gonna dick around together all night anyway, there’s no point.” He took a swig of his beer without meeting your gaze. You felt your cheeks warm in embarrassment and a painful ache in your throat as you tried to hold back the tears that threatened to spring forward. You met Olivia’s gaze again and she nodded encouragingly towards Rafe.

“W-what about me, Cameron?” you asked, trying to mask your feelings, to sound chill as you poked him in the side.

He looked at you sweetly, “C’mon and say what when my dad asks about you? ‘Hey dad, here’s the girl I’ve been sneaking through the back door every night and smashing while you and Rose are three doors down? Hard pass.” He laughed, focusing back on his beer and his friends as you felt his hand slide off your leg.

You allowed yourself to be genuinely upset for three days.

You didn’t sleep at Tanneyhill for the first time in months, you didn’t even answer his texts which grew increasingly more insistent the more you ignored them. You stayed home, you cried, and you contemplated what the fuck you were doing with your life. Was that really all you were to him – just someone he was sneaking around with? Did you somehow become that girl, too naïve and too stupid to see that she wasn’t and would never be anything more than a hookup?

You thought about the way Rafe reached for you and held you in his sleep, the way his hands ghosted over your body, the things he’d whisper in your ear, the times you’d ridden shotgun in his truck or he’d taken you to his favorite spot on the beach… Your heart was so sure about him, but your head throbbed with the echo of his words.

You and Olivia talked incessantly about it, dissecting everything he’d said. “Maybe he just needs a little push, a little… motivation?” she suggested, and the more you talked about it, the more you realized she was right.

If Rafe Cameron was so sure he didn’t need to be seen with you at Midsummers, you were more than happy to oblige.

The last of the hot summer sun was settling over the ocean as you climbed the front steps of the Island Club in daring three-inch heels; the added height gave your figure a perfect sway that simply begged people to watch you as you walked by. Your dress had a thigh-high slit, open back, and was the perfect color for your skin tone, illuminating you; the neckline was devilishly tantalizing, giving the desired effect of drawing all eyes to the dazzling diamond pendant that reflected the setting sun.

Rafe heard you before he saw you; rather, he heard a sea of murmurs rippling through the crowd which drew his attention to the doors just as you walked through by yourself, essentially announcing to the island that you were alone for the night.

“Geezus” he heard Topper mutter under his breath as he took you in. Normally, he would have known better and normally Rafe would have put his head through a wall for glaring at you the way he was, but even though his fists clenched in response and he wanted to turn and say something to him, he simply couldn’t take his eyes off of you; “Geezus” didn’t even begin to cover it.

You were always undeniably beautiful to Rafe: when you wore his oversized sweatshirt around the fire pit, when you were makeup-less in your wet bikini at the beach, and especially when you were wearing next to nothing tangled up in his limbs and his soft sheets, but the dress you had on, the way your hair shone in the last rays of the sun, the way you were positively radiating had his pulse throbbing in his neck, his adam’s apple bobbing and his palms sweating. Fuck, I am so happy she’s mine he thought to himself, smiling and moving to walk towards you as your eyes met his across the crowd.

You were glowing at him and sent him a discreet smile as you greeted people and made your way in his direction. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on you, to have you at his side so everyone knew you were his. You approached your friends, dropping a kiss on Topper and Kelce’s cheeks before doing the same to Rafe. You made to move past him quickly, intent on talking to Olivia when he grabbed your hand.

“Hey, hold up you-you look…” he started to say, trying and struggling to find the words to capture the way his heart was pounding in his chest.

Your wide eyes met his expectantly and just when he opened his mouth to speak, they flitted over his shoulder.

“Oh! Sorry, Rafey! Just saw someone I want to catch up with, I’ll see you later” and without another word you walked away, leaving Rafe Cameron, the King of Kildare staring and stuttering after you.

You were walking away from him? he thought. You had seemed so adamant about this whole Midsummers thing, dropping hints about going together and now here he was, practically ready to get down on one knee at the sight of you, and you were walking away from him? He was speechless. He turned to watch you go… right into the arms of another man. He looked to be about your age, the same height and a similar build as Rafe, because of course Rafe was sizing him up, how could he not? This guy had his paws all over his girl. And then, after a moment’s realization, he thought darkly, she’s not your girl…

You had greeted this guy with a huge hug, and he’d nearly lifted you off the ground, now he had your full attention and you were laughing at something he said, the most sweet and perfect sound that Rafe wanted only for himself.

As everyone took their seat for dinner, you intentionally positioned yourself across the table from Rafe. The slight of not sitting next to him where he could run his fingers up your thigh or tangle them in your own left him fidgeting instead, buttoning and unbuttoning his jacket and swirling his drink. What the fuck did I used to do with my hands? he thought angrily.

You paid him no mind, instead, leaning forward on your elbows and toying with the diamond pendant around your neck, fingering it, twirling it and sliding it back and forth on its chain.

“Holy DIAMOND, girl!” Olivia said as she took note of your necklace and leaned over to get a closer look. “Is it new, where is it from?” her eyes shot from you to Rafe and back again.

He glared at you both over the rim of his glass as he took a deep gulp, trying to act unphased but also extremely curious to hear your answer knowing damn well it wasn’t from him.

Your eyes flitted to Rafe briefly before you leaned towards Olivia, lowering your voice, but not so low that he couldn’t hear you. “It was… a gift from… someone special” you said winking conspiratorially at her.

Rafe choked on his drink just as someone was standing up at the front of the crowd to make a speech, shifting everyone’s attention and interrupting the slew of words that nearly poured out of his mouth.

Who the fuck on Kildare fucking Island was buying his girl jewelry? he thought. And then, again, he reminded himself, she’s not your girl… the thought making his whole body tense, rigid and taught in anger and frustration.

For the next 20 minutes, all he could do was stare at you as you twiddled that ridiculous necklace in your fingers, imagining what it would be like to rip it off of you and replace it with something twice as nice. He was mentally calculating how much he would spend and how quickly he could get it when JJ Maybank passed by their table. Rafe had a snarky comment on the tip of his tongue until he watched JJ do a double take at you and stop in his tracks.

Don’t do it, Maybank, Rafe thought. Don’t you dare do it.

He watched JJ eye you and the distance between you and Rafe and, deeming it safe, peddled back, pulling a glass of champagne off his tray and handing it to you with a flourish. He knelt down next to your seat and when you turned to talk to him, it left JJ perfectly eye level with your cleavage. He was whispering something to you and you rested your hand on his bicep as you leaned forward to hear him. Rafe could see you blushing, and he watched Maybank take in every greedy eyeful of you. Rafe stood up so abruptly, it knocked his chair over and rattled the plates on the table. Everyone looked up at him, including you, and for the first time that night he had your full attention as your eyes widened at his reaction.

“YN, inside, let’s go” he said simply, walking to your side of the table.

You raised an eyebrow at him and his demanding tone.

“And Maybank if you don’t stop staring at her tits, I will put your face through this table.”

JJ quickly stood up and backed away with his hands raised in surrender as Rafe approached you.

“Rafe we were just—” you started.

“— Inside. Now” he said, taking you forcefully by the arm and leading you inside and into the locker room.

“Rafe! Come on! Stop it! I want to spend the night with my friends, I don’t know what you possibly have to be mad at” you said in resistance.

And that was the very last straw for him.

“WHAT I HAVE TO BE MAD AT?!” he said, incredulous, nearly shouting. “Where do I even begin with you!? You blow me off all week, then you waltz in here looking like an absolute bombshell, wearing next to nothing – I swear to God, I’ve seen you in bikinis with more material - every guy here is leering at you. Then you’re talking to that jackass who had his hands all over you…” he said, exasperated.

At this point he was pacing, his voice continuing to rise in anger and frustration. “…And then Maybank?! Maybank of all people?! He was flirting with you right in front of me. Was it to make me jealous? Is that what this is all about? Because I’m about to lose my fucking mind YN” he said running his hands through his hair, giving you sick pleasure knowing it took him probably an hour to style it. A surprised if not amused look rested on your face as you continued to twirl your necklace in your fingers.

“And who the fuck gave you that” he pointed accusingly at the diamond in your hand, not giving you a single second to respond, “No. Absolutely not. Take it off. Right now” he said, walking briskly towards you in an effort to do it himself.

You held out a hand to stop him.

“I don’t know what the big deal is Rafe” you said innocently. “What difference does it make? I’m just the girl you’re sneaking through your back door every night to smash” you shrugged, your eyes burning at him.

His eyes widened as he heard his own words on your lips.

“No, that’s – that’s not – I didn’t mean” he stuttered.

You gave him a vicious look as you watched the gears turn in his head and he tried to string a sentence together.

“Look, I didn’t mean it like that – I shouldn’t have – what I meant was – ahh, fuck it” he said, taking a step forward and closing the distance between you in an instant, one hand holding your face firmly as he pushed you against the lockers and the other coming to rest on the wall beside you, caging you in against him as he pressed his lips bruisingly to yours, devouring you, just like he’d wanted to do all night.

You wanted to stay strong, to argue, to tell him he wasn’t going to win you over like this. But he was. He so so was as he deepened the kiss almost instantly and the pad of his thumb ran across your cheek sending a shiver through your body. When he finally felt you relent and kiss him back, winding your arms around his neck and pulling yourself flush to him he let out a small groan that almost made you forget the whole point of tonight. Almost.

You pulled back, leaving not even an inch between you. The feeling of you kissing him had calmed him down significantly. His breathing had slowed but his cheeks were still flushed and his hair was mussed. He lingered there, his nose brushing yours as he stroked your cheek.

“You’re my girl” he whispered finally.

“Are you asking or telling?” you whispered back.

“Do I really need to ask, princess?” he said, meeting your gaze with his own.

You raised an eyebrow at him threateningly.

He rolled his eyes and said in a sigh, “Be mine?”

You bit your bottom lip and pretended to think about it. “Gosh, I don’t know” you said, pressing a slow kiss to his lips “M’might have to think about it” you said, pressing another kiss there, lingering longer “Mm’might need some convincing” you said, kissing him again and running your hands up his chest.

His voice was low but steady, “I will take you home right now and convince you as many times as you need me to” he said, kissing you back through a smile.

“Deal” you replied sweetly.

You moved to leave but he didn’t let you go and when you met his gaze, his brow was furrowed, his eyes searching yours. “I am serious though, about this, about you” he said. “I’m sorry I fucked up.” He looked uncharacteristically bashful, unsure even. “Really, are you mine?” he whispered.

“Yes, Rafe,” you said as your heart fluttered in your chest “All yours.”

He smiled stupidly, so far gone for you as he kissed you again. You were completely lost in the moment until he muttered against you, “Then please for the love of God will you take that necklace off and tell me who in the hell thought they could buy you something like that?”

You met his eyes strongly, the last embers of your pain crackling there.

“No” you said simply, continuing quickly when he tried to interrupt you. “I’m going to keep it and wear it whenever I damn well please to remind you of what you have and what you sure as hell want don’t want to lose.”

He looked genuinely shocked to hear you challenge him like that and you could see a tic in his jaw as he worked it back and forth in anger.

“I… hate that” he growled. “What if I buy you something nicer?”

You shrugged noncommittally and he shook his head at you. “Fine, let’s get out of here, that dress is killing me and I have a lot of convincing I want to do to you right now.” You giggled as he grabbed your hand and led you back outside, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

When you rejoined the party there were a few murmurs and glances as you hung off his arm. Were you imagining it, or was he taking the long way back to your table, intentionally parading you around the patio and staring daggers at anyone whose gaze lingered too long? Being seen together at Midsummers was basically shouting from the rooftops that you were official. You were glowing, he was too. You said goodbye to your friends and within minutes you were in his truck headed back to Tanneyhill, his hand rubbing circles higher and higher on your thigh, your fingers in his hair.

He threw the car in park and scooped you over his shoulder, carrying you all the way upstairs like that, which had you shrieking in delight. He didn’t set you down until you were in his room and he kissed you feverishly, his hands cupping your face, before his fingers traced your neck, nearing your necklace.

“Rafe” you muttered against his lips, a warning.

“Just tell me who” he muttered back, unable to let it go and kissing you deeper in the hopes of convincing you. “I’m already gonna to buy you a new one, you’ll never wear this again, but I need to know. Can’t stop thinking about someone else with their hands on you” he said as he guided you backwards towards his bed, pushing you gently onto his comforter and crawling on top of you.

“I don’t like it. I do not fucking like it” he growled against your lips. Under his anger, you detected a hint of vulnerability and you broke your kiss just long enough to look into his eyes, which gazed longingly at you as they searched your face. Perhaps you had tortured this poor boy enough.

You sighed, relenting.

“Olivia” you said.

He looked at you, completely confused for only a moment before the realization dawned on his face and he hung his head.

“There isn’t anyone else” he said in equal parts relief, frustration and embarrassment.

You shook your head at him.

“God I’m so fucking stupid” he said.

You giggled before reaching behind your neck to unclasp the necklace and toss it on his bedside table.

He looked at you with heat and tenderness, “I’m sorry that’s what it took for me to get my shit together. I wish it all happened differently, but I don’t regret it. You’re it for me, YN, no one else.”

He placed a kiss beneath your ear, to your throat, to your bare collarbone. “My girl” he whispered against your skin, enjoying how it felt on his tongue and the sound of your sweet laughter in response.

taglist: @ietss, @gillybear17, @palmwinemami, @moremaybank, @one-sweet-gubler, @m-indkiller, @diary-of-jj, @crlsummer, @jjsbank444

#rafe cameron #obx rafe cameron #rafe obx #outerbanks rafe #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron x reader #obx fanfiction

[theemporium]

click 'here' to unlock the other boyfriends!

.

It was a well-known fact that Lando Norris was an affectionate guy. 

He couldn’t help himself, it was just something that came so naturally to him. From throwing himself onto his team after a podium finish to wrapping people in tight hugs, from tilting his head towards fans in photos to slumping against people in between long meetings when he needed a few moments to doze off. 

It was like his energy just thrived off of touch. He liked being around people, he liked being able to show them his appreciation and love because he was never really good with words. He liked being able to show the important people in his life what they meant to him—actions showing more than words and all that jazz. 

And he was pretty affectionate with his friends too, that was nothing new. 

But with you? Yeah, nobody was believing for a damn second that anything between you and Lando was just platonic.

You didn’t get it at first. You didn’t think he treated you any differently to how he did with his other friends. He hugged you the same way, threw his arm over you the same way, tugged you close the same way. He would lean his body against yours when he laughed a little too hard and his head would drop on your lap during movie nights, humming when you would scratch his scalp. 

But he did that with other people too. You weren’t anything special.

Except you were—it just took both you and Lando a stupidly long time to see what everyone else saw for months. And even once you spotted it, it wasn’t something you were rushing to tell the world. You wanted something to just be yours for a little bit—your little secret. 

You genuinely didn’t think people would even notice a shift in your relationship. You didn’t even think you acted all that differently from the months you and Lando were just friends, other than the bonus of making out with him at movie nights. 

“It’s been a while, chat. I’ve missed this.” 

Lando watched as the comments rolled in, filling up his screen so fast that he barely had time to catch more than a few words from each comment. And it was the truth. Streaming had become such a stress relief and easy pass-time in between race weekends. It was something simple and fun for him to do, to feel connected to the people who support him. In a weird way, it made him feel useful during his time off when there were no meetings to attend or data to review. 

It was something to do between training sessions.

“Hm, my plans? Mate, I just got off a triple header. My plans include moving as little as possible,” Lando said with an easy smile on his face, making no move to pick a game to play. There was no rush. “Although, I did invite—”

“Where’s my favourite P2 dickhead?!” 

His grin widened. “There she is.”

Lando turned in his chair, waiting a few moments as he listened to you drop your stuff by the door before you made your way into the room he was currently sitting in. You barrelled in, your smile almost as wide as his before you noticed the set up he had.

“You really invited me over while you were streaming?” You snorted, shaking your head but you didn’t have any complaints as you moved to sit on a couch near his desk. 

“No,” Lando whined as he reached out, his fingers wrapping around your wrist as he tugged you towards him. “I haven’t seen you in three weeks, it’s cruel to sit on the other side of the room.”

“Well, where else am I meant to sit?” You teased. “I keep telling you to get another chair in—-oh.”

You tried to hide your own surprise when Lando pulled you down onto his lap. It wasn’t the first time he had ever done it, and you highly doubted it would be the last, but he had never done it with so many people watching. 

He didn’t settle until his arms were wrapped around you, your body pressed against his before he practically nuzzled his face against your shoulder. “Better.”

Your face felt warm. “Someone’s clingy.” 

“I haven’t seen my best friend in three weeks,” Lando huffed, his brows furrowed together as though he was reliving the last three weeks. Between the races, training and media chaos, he barely had any time to himself—let alone time to talk to you. “Sue me.”

“Oh, he’s sassy and clingy,” you teased but didn’t say much else as you shifted until you were sideways on his lap, giving him a clear view of his screen. Your arm wound around his shoulder, your fingers twirling the curls at the nape of his neck. 

user: friends my ass, look at them!!

user: they are so cute!!

user: are they dating??

user: MY OTP!!!! 

user: clingy lando is the best lando

user: they are literal couple goals 

user: they are my fav ship 

Lando’s eyes scanned over the comments before he snorted, though there was something quite smug in his expression. “Ship? Like friendship? Aw, thanks.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re a fucking menace, Norris.”

“Language,” he teasingly scolded, lightly pinching your hip just out of view of the camera but the squeal you let out in response told the viewers enough. “Gotta keep it kid-friendly in here. Max is probably watching from home. We can’t scar the poor kid.”

max fewtrell: too late for that, mate

You shook your head, lips pressed together to hold back your laughs. You shifted in the seat, like you were ready to stand up but his arms tightened around you.

Lando’s face softened. “Where are you going? Stay here.”

“I was gonna go make something,” you said with a soft laugh. “God knows you’ve probably not eaten a proper meal since you got back.”

“Eh,” he grumbled but he didn’t relent his grip on you. “It’s fine, we can order something. Just stay here.”

“I’ll only be in the other room,” you attempted but the boy wasn’t having it.

“No, I prefer you here,” Lando said, squeezing your body to punctuate his point. “And the chat missed you too. It would be rude if you left.”

“This can’t be comfy for you,” you murmured, your voice a little softer in hopes the microphone wouldn’t pick it up.

But Lando just grinned at you—that wide, huge grin that took over his face and made his eyes crinkle and sent a flurry of butterflies through your stomach. 

“You’re exactly where I want you, baby.” 

And you couldn’t help but smile back. 

user: BABY??????

user: OH MY GOD IT’S CONFIRMED 

user: THIS IS SO KEWBFJWEKFBWE

max fewtrell: you’re such a fucking idiot 

max fewtrell: but happy for you guys<3

.

#lando norris #formula one #f1 #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fic #lando norris one shot #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one fic #formula one one shot #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 one shot

[feeder86]

Aaron's Empire

“Yes?” Aaron asked abruptly, seeing that Kirk was calling him yet again.

“He says he’s full already,” Kirk replied. “He’s only had three doughnuts and now he just wants to sit and watch a movie.”

Aaron sighed. As one of his newest recruits, Kirk was more than a little needy when it came to applying the skills that Aaron had tried to instil in him. Every year it seemed like there were more and more guys moving to the city with a kink for fattening up. Although Aaron hadn’t liked it, it had always been necessary for him to outsource to other feeders when he became overrun. He simply did not have the time to tackle all the boys who got in contact with him, desperate to be fattened and submit to him.

“Did you try the trigger words?” Aaron asked. “I made a list of the nicknames Jay gets the most aroused by. They’re all on the file I sent you: ‘Fatso’, ‘Piggy’… I think he even got pretty hard at ‘Lardass’ as well,” he rambled on, trying to recall his observations from the initial feed he had done himself with Jay, three months back.

“I tried them,” Kirk shot back. “Can you come over? I really don’t know what else to do.”

Sighing in frustration, Aaron ended the call. On paper, Kirk looked set to be an awesome feeder: good looking, athletic and masculine-looking. He was one of the star players in the college football team and seemed to have that natural air of authority about him. Feeding a short, little chub like Jay should have been simple. But this was the fourth time he’d got in contact, wanting more support. Perhaps he would make a good feeder one day, but that still seemed like a long way off.

“Thanks for coming,” Kirk smiled, opening the door to Jay’s apartment and seeing that Aaron had picked up a couple of pizzas along the way. He was whispering, having not told Jay that he had needed to get Aaron over to help him.

“Is that what you’re wearing tonight?” Aaron asked, indignantly, seeing the feeder’s attire. “What is with that sweater?” “It’s cold out tonight,” Kirk mumbled back.

“So?” Aaron grumbled, taking his own shirt and pants off as soon as he was through the door. “If you want these fatties to eat, you sell them the fantasy,” he pointed at his own staggeringly built and athletic body. “They don’t need the wholesome ‘boy next door’ look putting them off,” he sighed, still amazed by how average such a sexy guy could look in something so ill-fitting. “And would it kill you to put some product in your hair?” he continued, noticing that Kirk must have come straight from the showers after his football training. 

Kirk nodded, seeming to agree that he hadn’t made enough effort. He followed Aaron’s lead, removing the offending sweater and taking off his pants, despite the slight chill in the apartment. Then he went to the tap and brushed some warm water through his hair to fluff it up a little.

“Hello there, Fatso!” Aaron smiled, leading the way into the lounge area with the pizza boxes.

“I didn’t know you were coming tonight as well!” Jay smiled, actually getting up from his chair. Back when Aaron had been feeding the guy himself, the chub had been well trained to stay sitting on his blubbery glutes the entire time he was there. His shirt wasn’t even off and he was wearing actual slippers on his feet, like an old man. Had Kirk really tried to initiate a kinky feeding session when the pig wasn’t even stripped? Just how many other rules like this had the boy been letting slide?

Aaron pulled Jay into a passionate kiss. He allowed both of their hands to roam freely, and by the time they came out of it, Aaron had successfully removed both Jay’s shirt and pants. “You’re looking so big now!” Aaron smiled, taking in Jay’s fattened physique: 350 lbs of tits, belly rolls and blubber.

“I’ve gained another 2 lbs since I saw you last!” Jay boasted, grinning with pride.

Aaron smiled, despite the irritation he felt. Two pounds in an entire month? Did he really think that was acceptable? Did Kirk not challenge him on such mediocre gains? After all the hours Aaron had put in training up the guy’s appetite, back when he was little more than a twink, a two pound gain should have been just a normal part of life for him now.

“Kirk tells me you’ve not got much of an appetite tonight?” Aaron went on, sitting the fat boy back down in his chair, where he belonged. “Is there any reason why?”

Jay looked a little awkward, but smiled as he saw Kirk coming to stand beside Aaron; his toned athlete’s body now on show. “The truth is,” Jay mumbled, “I’ve got my dad and step-mom coming to stay with me this weekend. My dad’s always been somewhat critical of me since I started getting fat. I guess it sort of dampens the appetite,” he sighed.

Aaron nodded sympathetically. “I understand,” he smiled sweetly. “Thank you for being so open with me. It must be incredibly hard for you. As kinky as it is to get this fat, explaining it to your family is never easy.”

“That’s it,” Jay agreed, visibly relaxing now he had shared his concerns aloud. He sat back a little more in his chair and rubbed his tummy. “It’s hard to eat tonight when I know my dad is going to be even more disappointed in me.”

Again, Aaron smiled. He tapped Kirk’s tight butt, silently ordering him into his position, behind Jay’s chair. The next movement was about to begin.

“I really do understand,” Aaron offered lovingly. “As you can imagine, I see it time and time again with all my boys.”

Jay smiled back, with little comprehension of how many guys across the city were actually fattening up under Aaron’s watchful eye.

“But, do you know who doesn’t care?” Aaron asked next, slipping off his underwear and letting his erection spring out. “This guy here,” he pointed at his already pulsing hardness. “He couldn't give a shit about all that sort of crap. The fat boys whinge about how full they are, or how none of their clothes fit. They bitch about their families, their friends not being supportive. They talk about how much they sweat now, how out of breath they get…” Aaron went on, rubbing his boner and seeing that Jay simply could not take his eyes off it. “But this guy…” Aaron emphasised again, “...he just couldn’t give a fuck! He actually gets off on it; their complaints and genuine concerns. He just wants to see them eat and grow, fatter and fatter every single day.”

Aaron nodded to Kirk, letting him know that it was time to tap the newly aroused fatty on the head, ordering him to start sucking. Then, only a few seconds later, Jay’s mouth enveloped as much of Aaron’s dick as possible, moaning with lust as he did so.

Kirk, who was now rubbing Jay’s back encouragingly, looked across at Aaron, clearly impressed at how quickly he had turned the situation around. However, Aaron merely stared back at him in annoyance. It wasn’t just the fact that Jay had always been so pathetically weak at giving blow jobs, but why hadn’t Kirk done this? How many times had he been told these strategies to get the pigs eating when they were less keen? Sometimes their mouths just needed a little warm up; a little lubricating. “Go get the pizzas,” he ordered sternly, about to begin yet another demonstration of how to stuff a pig to his absolute limit.

After that evening, Aaron assigned Jay to another of his feeders, hoping that Jay was simply a poor fit for him. In his place, he gave Kirk a new and highly motivated second year college student who had impressed him a lot when he’d interviewed him about why he wanted to be fattened up. Perhaps seeing the fattening process from scratch might give Kirk the kick up the ass that he needed.

“Five pounds?” Aaron asked, feeling exasperated. “You’ve had three months and that;s all you’ve done to him? He’ll lose that in no time now he’s gone home for the summer!”

“He had exams and stuff, though,” Kirk tried. “I didn’t want to get in the way.”

“Oh, come on, Kirk! How many times have I talked to you about stress eating? You missed a golden opportunity to really push some weight onto him there! He also tells me he’s working on a farm over the summer. How the hell did you let that happen? You know that’s too much exercise!”

“I didn’t really think it was my place to say anything…” Kirk mumbled, realising that he had messed up yet again.

“You’re the fucking feeder!” Aaron shouted, finally letting his frustration get the better of him. “Of course it’s your place to say these things to the pigs!”

Kirk sighed, disappointed with himself. “I’ll do better when I see him next. I promise.”

Aaron shook his head in disappointment yet again. He liked Kirk, he really did. He had all the hallmarks of a good feeder, with a pretty face that made everyone stop and stare. He had the sex appeal to make a guy eat if he really wanted them to. But his application of the basic feeder principles and training were utterly lost on him.

“Look, let’s just take this time as a little breather,” Aaron suggested. “I have some time off at the end of this month. You can come over to my place and we’ll do some little role plays and scenarios; stuff that should help you when your pig gets back for the new semester.”

Kirk nodded gratefully, knowing that he still had so much to learn.

“So, what is a feeder’s main objective?” Aaron asked a couple of weeks later as he led Kirk into his apartment.

The question clearly caught the football player off guard and a long pause followed before he finally answered. “That the pig eats everything we give them,” he offered, seeming confident.

Aaron shook his head. “You’re thinking too short term,” he shot back. “A feeder’s goal is, and always will be, the results: the tight pants, the fat gains, the number on the scales. That’s all that really matters. There are different ways to get there: meal plans, submission, dominance, you name it. But the feeder’s goal is always in the blubber he can pack onto his prey. Is that clear?”

Kirk nodded.

“That means that it really doesn’t matter if you never even use some of the strategies we’re going to revise today. As long as you get the results, that’s all I care about.”

“Okay. That makes sense,” Kirk agreed.

“Feeding is a sensual exercise,” Aaron began, taking his shirt off and removing his pants; still pumped from his gym workout that morning. “You’re never going to feed a pig to his full capacity unless you get the support you need. So where do you find that support?”

Kirk, who had been following Aaron’s lead and undressing, sat himself down in the guy’s feeding chair and pondered the question. “You mean I should call you?” he asked.

Again, Aaron sighed. None of this information should have been new to him. “No, Kirk! The best feeder a pig’s ever going to have is always right between his legs.” He reached out, holding the football player’s semi. “It’s the reason he first fell into gaining and it’s the thing that led him straight to you, so always make sure that you use it in the most effective way that you can,” he explained, rubbing Kirk’s dick until it stood firm and erect. “If fatty stops eating or starts slowing down, give some attention to this thing and you’ll soon see him getting hungry again.”

“Should I suck it?” Kirk asked keenly.

Aaron frowned at the silly question. “It’s entirely up to you. Just…get it hard and keep it that way. That’s all you need to worry about.”

Kirk settled a little more into his chair, enjoying this training more than the other sessions he had had with Aaron. He’d always done better with practical exercises, rather than trying to memorise the theory behind principles.

“Now, most of the time, your pig will buy his own food that he wants you to feed him. But, if ever you’re doing it, you’ve got to choose it all very carefully, thinking about the feeder’s goal… which is?” he quickly questioned.

“The results!” Kirk parroted back to him, pleased that he had remembered something at last.

“Exactly,” Aaron nodded, now pointing to the vast selection of food he had set up on the coffee table for his date with a long-term fatty who was coming over later. “Everything here is from the list I sent you back when you first started. These particular brands are all staggeringly high in calories and quickly digested.” He looked at Kirk’s blank face. “I’ll email the list over to you again then,” he simply stated, deciding not to pull Kirk up on his lack of studiousness.

“What would you start with?” Kirk asked, seeing it all spread out and presented so nicely.

“Well, that depends on your fatty’s preference. You should know what his favourites are; the things that are best to get him started. For example, what is it that catches your eye the most?”

“The cream cakes,” Kirk replied instantly.

“Very well,” Aaron smiled, picking one up. “Before I start, I look down. Is his dick hard? Yes. Are his eyes fixed on the food? Can I make him salivate?”

At that moment, Kirk swallowed a build up of saliva in his mouth.

“Pigs love to be played with. And, at the start, that’s fine. You can waft it under his nose,” he demonstrated comically. “You can dip your finger in the cream and tap it on his piggy little snout,” he joked, doing just that with Kirk. “But when the time comes to feed, you let them know that you’re serious,” he stated sternly. “Because this isn’t a game, is it? And you can’t let the fat boy treat it like one.”

Kirk slowly nodded his head.

“You get their eyes fixed on you now,” Aaron continued, ensuring that Kirk was doing just that. “They realise, you are the feeder. You are the one they are doing this for. During this time, only the two of you exist in the entire world. Pleasure and greed are the only things that have any consequence now. Nothing else.”

Kirk was absolutely silent, taking all of the information in like never before. He looked entirely fixed within the mindset of the boys he would someday feed. Out of a simple curiosity, Aaron brought the cake a little closer to the guy’s mouth, hardly believing that the jock’s jaws were unhinging. His mouth gaping open, Aaron pushed the cake beyond the point of no return, until it squished and fell upon Kirk’s tongue.

Suddenly Kirk was chewing, with his cheeks filled with cream. Had the guy completely misunderstood the concept of role-playing? Sure, the boy was always prettier than he was intelligent, but feeders didn’t do this. This food wasn’t for him. Yet his hardness throbbed every bit as much as the countless others Aaron had done this to in the past.

“Now you praise your pig,” Aaron explained, deciding to take the strange turn all in his stride and act like this was as he had planned. “You tell him how greedy he’s being; how large and fat this will all make him; how he’s going to struggle to get into his pants tomorrow.”

Kirk moaned with pleasure as the last of the cake was pushed into his mouth. He licked Aaron’s fingers clean; his greedy eyes now turning to the other items on the table. Intuitively, Aaron reached across and found the next item, holding it until it was ready and then pushing it deep inside the athletic boy’s mouth.

“Your pig is going to get thirsty pretty quickly, so you need your drinks to hand. These need to be equally high in calories,” he smiled, cracking open a can of soda. “Not too cold,” he stated cautiously. “Everything should flow. We hit them hard and fast while they’re in the zone.”

Kirk took the can of soda and chugged it in one.

Still determined not to show even the slightest bit of surprise, Aaron simply continued his tuition. “Don’t be tempted to just feed the pig what he likes,” he cautioned, seeing that Kirk’s eyes had fallen back onto the cream cakes. “We want to keep mixing up those flavours and textures, pouring in the liquid calories and making the pig wait for those favourites.”

Kirk nodded, accepting whatever was fed into his mouth.

“Always, ALWAYS keep an eye on his dick,” Aaron insisted, taking his hand to Kirk’s hardness and rubbing it for short, gentle periods. “He’s going to want to climax, but it’s your job to make him wait. You do not let him touch himself! His dick belongs to you. You call the shots. And the pig isn’t getting his pleasure until he’s completely stuffed.”

At this, Kirk seemed to redouble his efforts, eating faster and greedier than even before. He’d slipped perfectly into the role; indistinguishable in his apparent lust to feed. His stomach was bloating up, yet still he feasted.

“By this point, your pig is going to be completely disoriented. He’s lost track of what he’s eaten and he has no idea what’s coming next. He’s already massively overdosed on calories, but because of the speed you’re delivering it all to him, his brain hasn’t caught up yet. This is the stuffing ‘window of opportunity’, and you’ve got to push the fatty hard until it closes.”

The food on the table was quickly disappearing. It had been a few months since Aaron had fed a young athlete of Kirk’s stature; almost forgetting how much boys like this could gorge.

“You’ll know when it’s time to stop. The pace slows and they wince at the stretch. But any sign of heaving and you’ve already taken it too far,” Aaron stated. “You make them look you in the eyes again as you take their dick in your hand. You make them say ‘thank you’ for doing this to them, even though they might, even now, be starting to regret how much they have eaten. You tell them what a greedy pig they have been; what all those calories are going to do to their body.”

Kirk was already pulling a face as he felt his orgasm building.

“Now you make them rub their big ol’ tummy,” Aaron ordered, grabbing at Kirk’s limp wrist and placing the boy’s large hand on the top, and most swollen part, of his bloated stomach. 

Immediately, the jock’s hand began to explore that new, tightly-packed and solid shape; all so beautifully timed as his pleasure was about to peak.

“And as tough as it is to admit… this moment… the fatty’s actual climax; it’s really not about the feeder,” Aaron whispered now. “It’s about the pig realising what he’s done to HIMSELF; how completely fucked he is for getting so turned on, eating like he has for you.”

Kirk’s breathing was so erratic, with short, squeaking moans escaping from his lips every couple of seconds.

“You make the fat boy look you in the eye. Do what you want inbetween. You can make him promise to get fatter for you, make him oink like a pig, or force a final doughnut into his greedy little mouth; it really doesn’t matter,” he breathed, holding Kirk’s stare with a vice-like grip. “Just let the pig know that you see him for exactly what he is; that he can’t hide it anymore. That he is, and will always be, your greedy hog.”

A massive jet released from Kirk’s crotch, followed by several others, until an almost unfathomable amount of the boy’s excitement had covered his chest and splashed itself all over Aaron’s feeding chair. Yet more stains that would never come out.

Kirk’s charge was assigned a new feeder when he returned to college after the summer. Aaron had made the decision that the boy, who had been so keen to fatten up when Aaron had interviewed him, had been messed around enough by an inadequate feeder. In fact, Aaron had come to realise that Kirk wasn’t even that. Sure, Aaron had flipped feeders into gainers in the past. He even joked that most feeders came with an expiry date, when it would all become too much for them and they’d long for the blubber to be added to their bodies instead. But, Kirk was such a simple boy. Did he even realise yet that he was destined to become a fatty?

“I’m guessing you’ve played some good football in your time,” remarked Kirk’s football coach, heading over to speak to Aaron after he had seen the guy watching his boys play.

“Is it that obvious?” Aaron smiled, knowing that most people assumed he was some sort of football player, given his statuesque height and build. He shook hands with the guy, knowing just how to handle men like these, immediately inventing a backstory for himself in the game that would give him a lot more credibility with the coach. He folded his arms in the same way as him, mimicking the body language and slowly engaging the man enough so that he visibly relaxed more in his company; believing every word he said.

“So just one little broken ankle and that was your entire future NFL career gone?” the coach asked, full of sympathy.

“I think about it every single day,” Aaron lied, shaking his head bitterly. “But you’ve got some decent talent on the field here,” he smiled, pointing to the spot where all the young guys had last stood before heading in to shower.

“They’re okay,” the coach agreed, sounding unconvinced. “We’ve certainly had stronger teams in the past.”

Aaron nodded, as if he knew what he was talking about. “There was one who really caught my eye; the really tall one who spent most of the time over there,” he pointed.

“Kirk?” the coach asked. “Yeah, he’s a good player. Not necessarily the brightest guy I’ve ever come across. He’s quite versatile and plays in a variety of positions. I wouldn’t say he exactly excels in any of them though.”

“Have you ever thought about playing him as an offensive tackle?” Aaron asked. “From what I saw today, he looks more suited to that than anything.”

At this, the coach winced. “You should see some of the guys from the other teams in our league who play in that position. Kirk may be tall and strong, but he’d be dwarfed if he had to go up against them.”

“Bulk him up then,” Aaron shrugged, deciding to lift his arm and show off his bicep. “It’s what my coach did for me. It was the best thing that ever happened for my career. Before the ankle…” he added.

The two men discussed the idea for a little while longer, but Aaron had no intention of hanging around just in case Kirk came out and came over, giving the game away that they knew each other. Instead, he simply planted the seed and left it there to grow.

“When am I getting a new pig?” Kirk asked a couple of weeks later, settling into Aaron’s feeding chair.

“When I think you’re ready,” Aaron lied. “Which reminds me,” he smiled, pulling out his phone and playing a video to the football hunk. “Your last assignment’s new feeder sent me this. He’s getting great results with your old pig. Look at the blubber in that tummy now. His six pack is completely gone!”

“He looks completely different!” Kirk marvelled.

“That’s not even the best part,” Aaron chuckled, waiting for the section in the video when the pig turned and bounced his butt cheeks. “His new feeder says he’s never seen anything like it. It’s like the muscle just completely vanished and been replaced by pure blubber. Look at those thighs too! He’s going to be so bottom heavy!”

“That can’t be the same guy,” Kirk protested. “He didn’t gain like that for me.”

“Well, it’s all about finding the right technique that works for your pig,” Aaron explained, undressing himself and grabbing the supplies from the kitchen.

Kirk had followed his lead, kicking his shirt, sweatpants and underwear to the side and sitting himself back down again. An obvious coating and ring of light blubber sat around his middle from all the sessions Aaron had conducted with him in the last few weeks, but it wasn’t time to acknowledge that with him just yet.

“This is the shake and suck technique,” Aaron went on. “It’s the method that helped your old pig get that huge ass of his. I made this shake up this morning, so it’s had plenty of time to lose the chill.” Aaron heaved, lifting a huge gallon container of thick liquid and putting it on the coffee table with a bump. “You’ve had it plenty of times before. You know what’s in it,” he smirked.

“Yeah, but…” Kirk mumbled, looking at the size of the container. “I’ve only had the odd flask of it when we’ve been training. No one could drink that much of it.”

“That’s where this funnel comes in so handy,” the feeder smiled, lifting it up for Kirk to see. “It stops the pig from ending the chug the moment he starts to feel a little uncomfortable, and so it gives us a lot more control over how much we want the fat boy to take down.”

Kirk’s erection had returned. His legs twitched and he looked down suggestively at it. “What about the sucking part of this method?” he asked, knowing that no one gave a blow job like Aaron.

“It’s called the ‘shake and suck’ technique,” Aaron laughed. “As in… one BEFORE the other!” he teased, noting that Kirk appeared aroused enough to begin. “All you need to do is hold this flask, like this,” he instructed, resting Kirk’s head backwards into the chair at the same time. “Then just, chug away until the funnel is emptied.”

From his position, standing behind the feeding chair and looking over Kirk, Aaron could fully appreciate the gentle loss of definition in the boy’s stomach muscles. Today’s session was going to do so much more serious damage! He lifted the container and let it glug outwards, filling the funnel held steady by the athlete underneath. Just as instructed, the naive boy began swallowing it all up, even as Aaron continued to pour; never letting it get below half-way.

At the first break, Kirk moaned loudly, rubbing his enlarged stomach. Then he burped, long and coarsely, until he at last felt more comfortable. “Fuck!” he sighed. “How much of that stuff did you just pour in? I thought it was never going to end!”

“There’s plenty more, don’t you worry!” Aaron laughed, turning so that he could feed his own erection into Kirk’s mouth. “This is something you can only do at the start of this technique,” Aaron explained. “And you’ve got to go gentle. You can’t be making your pig gag when there’s all that fattening liquid in his stomach.”

Aaron could tell that Kirk was at last starting to learn some of the blow job skills he’d been taught in recent weeks. Aaron exhaled and felt his eyes widen. Shit, this guy was actually pretty good!

“And that’s enough of that,” Aaron smiled, pulling out before he lost his composure. “Back to business!” he ordered, placing the funnel back into Kirk’s hands. “This second chug has to be shorter, and the next one will be shorter again,” he explained, already pouring from the now considerably lighter container and looking down to check that Kirk’s hardness wasn’t faltering.

At the end of the second chug, Kirk moaned once more and gave off a long fog-horn like burp. However, this time his stomach was so rounded and stretched, actually resembling a belly for the first time. Without even prompting, Kirk’s hands began exploring it as Aaron engaged in a gentle first suck in his crotch. Not that Aaron would ever have told him, but already over two thirds of the gallon of gainer shake was gone.

“Depending on your pig, this method can take all day. And that’s fine,” Aaron nodded. “The main thing is, we want that shake inside them.”

Automatically, Kirk rested his head back again the moment he felt ready. The third session began and Kirk was soon enjoying the rewards of having Aaron’s lips around his erection once more.

“A pretty effective technique, huh?” Aaron laughed, just stopping as Kirk seemed about to climax.

“Let’s finish this thing!” Kirk grunted, throwing his head back and knowing that the end was near. Fuck the consequences. He needed that orgasm soon.

“You want me to take on another pig?” asked Jack, one of Aaron’s most capable feeders, a few weeks later. “That’s two in the last six weeks!”

Aaron nodded apologetically. “I know. I would do it myself, but I just don’t have the time. His name’s Peter; twenty-two, already chubby; great little appetite when I interviewed him. He wants pushing hard, and he’s kinky as fuck. I think you’ll have a lot of fun with him,” he summarised, showing Jack a picture before sending over the contact details.

“Cute!” Jack smiled. “Are you sure you’re okay with letting me have all the fun?”

“I just know you’ll do a great job,” Aaron chuckled, slapping the guy on his back.

Jack simply smiled back knowingly. “I bumped into Kirk the other day. He told me you haven’t given him a pig in months.”

Aaron raised his eyebrows. “Well, there are reasons for that.”

“You’re flipping him, aren’t you?” Jack pressed. “Kirk tried to tell me that his coach is bulking him up to play a new position on the field, but there’s no denying your handiwork on that little paunch of his. That’s where most of your time is going these days, isn’t it?”

“Possibly,” Aaron smirked, liking how direct Jack could be at times. “I’m throwing everything at him and I’ve yet to find a single one of my moves that doesn’t work on him.”

“Does he realise?” Jack asked.

“What do you think?” Aaron laughed, knowing that he didn’t need to hide his wicked side with a guy like Jack. “I’ve even got him writing up an assignment for me on the ‘feeder training’ he’s had in the last few weeks! He’s coming round this evening for the ‘Funnel, Fuck and Flip’ exercise.”

Jack chuckled. He’d only met Kirk a handful of times, so could hardly pity the guy if he had fallen into one of Aaron’s typical games. “So when are you going to make your move on him?” he asked.

“Soon,” Aaron smiled. “He’s almost ready now… Just one last little push!”

Later that evening, Kirk bent himself against the table with his legs stretched. His stomach was hard and swollen with gainer shake, drooping down as his head was held only inches above a decadent three-layered chocolate cake.

“Not many guys can hold an erection like I can,” Aaron explained, having pushed himself inside Kirk’s tight butt hole with a lot less wincing from the athlete than in previous weeks. “So don’t worry if you struggle with this move when you’re feeding a fatty this way.”

“Okay,” Kirk mumbled back, breathing deeply as his body tried to get used to the sheer size of Aaron’s thick hardness inside of him. “I think I’ll be ready in a second,” he whispered.

“Good,” Aaron replied, trying not to laugh. He leaned a little more over Kirk’s broad back. “Now, messy pigs adore this one. All I’m going to do is gently lower your head into the cake before I start fucking you.”

“So the pig has to try and eat whilst he’s getting pounded?” Kirk asked.

“That’s the idea,��� Aaron smirked.

“Is that even possible?” Kirk asked again.

“I guess you’ll soon find out,” Aaron chuckled, checking that Kirk was ready and then pushing his head gently into the cake so that his entire face was covered in frosting. “Good Piggy!” he called out, already starting to fuck him. Despite the many fatties he’d worked on over the years, few were ever as thrilling as this!

A few weeks later, Kirk had arrived at Aaron’s in a somewhat distracted mood. “Coach says I’ve put on too much fat in my bulk, and that it’s affected my performance on the field.”

“Of course you have,” Aaron shrugged, getting himself undressed as Kirk did the same. “How else am I supposed to teach you about how to tease a fat ass properly? You can’t make an omelette without cracking a few eggs.”

Kirk seemed to consider this.

“Now is the time when you can really get to grips with your pig’s trigger words. Some of them love being called out on being a pig, whereas others are not keen. Some don’t even like teasing at all.”

“So you ask them what words they like to be called?” Kirk asked.

“No,” Aaron sighed, wondering how he ever thought that Kirk could make a good feeder. He simply had no intuition at all. “You try the words out and see what works best. Which ones suit them? Which ones get them the hardest? That’s the way I figured out yours.”

“I have trigger words?” Kirk shot back in surprise.

“Of course you do. All FAT BOYS do,” Aaron smiled, poking Kirk in his doughy middle, making the guy’s hardness bounce. “‘Fat Boy’: the name works on you every time. I never could have got you to complete that pot of whipping cream last week without it.”

“Fuck!” Kirk marvelled, perhaps realising for the first time just how much Aaron had actually burrowed into his head. “Are there more?”

“Of course there are,” Aaron nodded. “There are movements too. Like when I cup your glutes and give them a little bounce,” he demonstrated, giving Kirk’s butt cheek the lightest of wobbles. “See?” he asked, nodding down at Kirk’s weeping erection. “You’ve been so firm and athletic your whole life, this is a completely new experience for you. The feeling of fresh fat invading your body. It’s why being called a ‘fat ass’ works so well on you too.”

Aaron kissed him deeply as he continued to jiggle the boy’s glutes. Kirk’s breathing was hot and heavy; more aroused than ever he had been so early into their sessions. This was new and exciting.

“Few people would spot it in you; partly because you're so broad and muscular. But you’re also a very submissive boy,” Aaron continued.

“I am?” Kirk asked. “I thought feeders had to be mostly dominant?”

At this Aaron sniggered. “Oh, come on, Kirk!” he smiled, still bouncing the soft glutes. “You’re no feeder.”

Kirk closed his eyes to appreciate the feeling of his jiggling butt cheeks. “What am I then?” he whispered, sounding like he was finally ready to hear the truth.

Aaron placed his mouth right next to Kirk’s ear and whispered back, deploying the boy’s ultimate trigger word. 

“You’re my big, fat HOG!”

Just like that, Kirk moaned like he had been shattered into a thousand pieces. He pulled Aaron into him and kissed him with more passion than ever before.

“You’re going to quit football for me,” Aaron demanded, immediately seizing the moment as Kirk had surrendered himself; a part of him released and fully conscious for the first time.

“I’ll do anything!” Kirk agreed, allowing himself to be pushed into the feeding chair; another stuffing about to commence.

“Good!” Aaron grinned. “Because you’re moving in here with me too. I’m taking a six month sabbatical from the other fatties. I want to see what I can do when I just devote myself to one little hog, twenty four hours a day. How far can I take them?”

Kirk looked down at his stout little belly and his eyes filled with lust. “I’m all yours!”

#gainer stories #gainerstory #gayfeedee #gayfeeder #gainer story #gainerstories #gainerfic #gainer fiction #gainer fic #gay feedee

[folkloresthings]

BECAUSE I LIKED A BOY / CL16.

in which the world’s favourite pop princess becomes tangled in the life of a certain formula one driver, flipping her entire world upside down.

( charles leclerc x singer!au )

track one: lonesome. track two: fast times. track three: nonsense. track four: opposite. track five: how many things. track six: bad for business.

✩⡱ warnings: cursing

despite being the one to have sent the message, you could only stare at the screen of your phone as it rang, charles’ name lighting up, a picture you’d taken of him filling the screen. just before it could ring off, you pressed the green button and held it to your ear. neither of you spoke for a moment, just soft breathing against the speaker.

“hi,” you whispered, breath held in your chest, wondering if he was really there. you didn’t even know if you wanted to speak to him. hell, you didn’t know how you were feeling — only that you were falling madly in love one minute, and heartbroken the next.

“hello, ma cherie,” charles’ unmistakable accent filled your senses, allowing that breath you were holding to be let out. even now, he was using that silly pet name that made you smile. frankly, the love you felt for him hadn’t really gone away, despite what he’d done. you’d only wished it had never happened, and life could go on.

“lewis came to see me. he explained what happened, but i want to hear it from you.” trying your best to keep your voice steady, your knuckles grip at the bedsheets under you. you could hear him sigh on the other side, a long breath.

“i— didn’t mean for any of this to happen. fuck. i was drunk, too drunk to realise what she was trying to do. i probably should have shut her down sooner, but i wasn’t thinking,” he told you quietly. his voice caught, and you knew then he was crying. half of your heart yearned to comfort him, the other to shake him firmly. “i went looking for you after, but lily told me you’d left. so i tried to catch up, but she kept fucking following me. i had to get security to do something about it.”

you swallowed hard, a hundred daggers lining your throat. what were you supposed to say? if you listened to your heart, you would forgive him in an instant. you’d book a flight to wherever he was racing that weekend and let him bundle you up in his arms, take you to bed and make you forget it all. but you’d been throat a lot. you had to be smart, strong — more than just a lovesick girl.

“i’ve been let down so many times, charles. and i was so blind, i didn’t think you would do it too,” you were both crying, his soft sniffles filling your speaker. “i can’t just… pretend this never happened.”

“you shouldn’t have to. but — i can’t lose you, y/n. shit, you’re the first good thing i’ve had in a long time.”

you choked on a sob, praying he hadn’t heard it. he was sweet, so awfully and cruelly sweet, and it wasn’t at all fair. despite his recent mistakes, he scored five stars every time.

“maybe we rushed into this,” you pondered, and you could practically hear him shaking his head. “i shouldn’t have let you think my heart was ready for all of this. after austin i… i should have waited a little while.”

“y/n…”

“maybe we just need a little time. to figure ourselves out.”

he sighed, knowing he shouldn’t battle you on this. no matter how he wanted to beg you on his knees and make everything better again. “three months.”

“what?” you replied.

“it’s three months until the grand prix final, the last race, and until your finished touring. i’ll leave you alone until then, but i’ll set aside a paddock pass for you there. if you want to trust me then, come. please.” his offer feels terribly gallant, respectful of your feelings, that it brings a smile onto your face.

“alright. three months.”

INSTAGRAM.

liked by niallhoran, lewishamilton, and 900,231 others

yourusername if i’m just writing happy songs, will anybody sing along?

view all 438,927 comments

joeyking who’s lady and who’s the tramp

⤷ yourusername i think we both know the answer to that

user tbh i preferred charles with charlotte than her

⤷ user no i’ve been waiting for someone to agree w me

landonorris setting the last picture as your contact pic rn

user team y/n or team charles take ur vote

⤷ user is this all you people have to talk about? shes her own person and was famous for years before she got involved with him

user tours almost over 🥲

⤷ yourusername 3 months 🥲🥲🥲

INSTAGRAM.

liked by yourusername, lovebotyn, and 12,332 others

ynnews the singular tour is almost over!!!! it’s been such a good few months, we’ve seen y/n go through so much but we’ve also watched her grow 🥺 so very proud of her. fingers crossed for new music & another tour soon!

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user i wasn’t able to go to any of the shows but i have LOVED watching all of the videos of her performing

user the fact taylor, madison, maisie, gracie and olivia all flew to europe just to perform with her when she was in a bad place 😭

yourusername BABY 🫶🤍 this is so so sweet. but it’s you guys that have made this tour, coming out every night and singing along to every word. i love you all more than anything in this world.

⤷ user MOM I LOVE YOU

TWITTER.

INSTAGRAM.

liked by beyoncé, gigihadid, and 828,991 others

yourusername guys 🥺 we won all four nominated categories i could cry. but seriously, thank you all so much for your continued support and love. there’s so many people i could thank, but i won’t get round to them all. you know who you are. thank you ❤️

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taylorswift there’s no one more deserving 🫶

adele 👑👑👑

user GRAMMY WINNER Y/N

harrystyles congrats love!!

user she made it 🥺🥺🥺

lewishamilton my girl !! roscoe says well done 🤍

honeymoon baby girl i’m so proud

user the universe giving her back what she deserves 🙌🙌🙌

IMESSAGE.

tagged: @leclercloml @vroomleclerc @gaviypedrisbride @ncentic @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ferrariloverr @baw-sixteen @rechtrecht @incoherenciass

#formula 1 imagine #formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #charles leclerc instagram au #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #lando norris x reader #carlos sainz x reader #daniel riccardo x reader #max verstappen x reader #fernando alonso x reader #lance stroll x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #oscar piastri x reader #esteban ocon x reader

[cooliestghouliest]

PUTTY, chapter one

(chapter one), (chapter two), (chapter three)

PAIRING: virgin!Eddie/former cheerleader!Reader

SUMMARY: Eddie has a little brother. Eddie’s little brother has a babysitter.

SERIES TAGS and C/W’s: mutual pining, experienced!Reader, inexperienced!Eddie but he’s eager to learn, mostly sub!Eddie, insecurities and self doubt, narcissistic and/or absent parents, jealousy, mean basketball players, hurt/comfort, they smoke weed, eventual smut (18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI), uniform kink, dirty talk, foot jobs, hand jobs, oral (f!receiving and m!receiving), public sex, sex toys, unprotected PiV. more to be added as this progresses!!!

WORD COUNT: 3.7k+

A/N: hi, my friends!!! this is a rewrite/repost and has been edited for a (hopefully) smoother, more enjoyable read. fun fact that this was one of the first Stranger Things fanfics i ever wrote. it was originally titled She Was Straight From Hell, But You Could Never Tell, and featured Eddie alongside an OC. i’ve changed it to be reader-insert, because that seems to be more in my writing wheelhouse nowadays. this fic will be multiple parts — it begins with backstory, but will eventually branch off into a universe of little smutty ficlets where Reader will corrupt virgin!Eddie as much as humanely possible.

—

Eddie hadn't known about the existence of his little brother until two months ago, when Al Munson showed up in the middle of the night with a small child in tow. Eddie didn't even know his dad was out of prison again, and yet here he was, in the flesh, a little boy with a mop of black curls resembling Eddie's own cradled in his leather jacket-clad arms.

Al was lucky Wayne was working or else this family reunion would have gone south fast.

While Wayne wasn't Al's biggest fan, Al was Eddie's dad, and Eddie would always hold onto as many moments with his father as he could get, no matter how sparse, and no matter how much of a self-serving piece of shit asshole Al Munson truly was.

But Eddie didn’t see it like that. Eddie saw it like this: His dad lived a hard life. His dad struggled with addictions. His dad lost a wife, just as Eddie had lost a mother. His dad tried his best with what he had.

Deep down, Eddie knew these were all just sorry excuses, but he kept that truth tucked away, not wanting to deal with the reality that Al truly only cared about himself.

He already had one dead parent. If he cut his dad out of his life, he’d basically have two.

"When'd you get out?" Eddie asked, stepping aside so Al could enter. His eyes followed the child, brows furrowed. The trailer was always Al's first stop on his freedom tour and the older man had always brought some sort of baggage along with him -- never a little kid, though. What the hell kind of trouble had his dad gotten into this time?

"Few days ago," Al replied, heading for the living room. He placed the sleeping child down on the worn sofa, then straightened and faced Eddie. "Listen, son, you gotta do me a favor. I'm not out long this time. I might've robbed an ATM or two last night. I'm kinda on the lam."

Al didn’t even have the decency to look sheepish at his wrongdoing.

Eddie was used to this. Even when Al was a free man, he was never a free man for long. He didn't think his dad knew how to coexist among non-inmate citizens. Eddie didn't think his dad even wanted to. Prison was a creature comfort for the elder Munson. Eddie wasn't necessarily mad at that fact. He was happy when Al was locked up, because then at least he knew where his dad was. Otherwise, Eddie worried his father would eventually get himself into a situation he wouldn't be able to get out of, and Eddie would really never see him again.

Eddie was also used to Al showing up after months and months, sometimes even years and years, such as now, always asking for favors.

"Who is that?" Eddie asked, pointing towards the couch, not being able to ignore the other human in the room any longer.

"Yeah, that's kinda what I need your help with.” Al rubbed at the back of his neck. "Well, no way to do this other than to just say it. That there's your little brother, Eddie. His name's Oliver. And I need you and Wayne to look after him while I'm gone."

"My... what..." Eddie stammered, face scrunching up. He expected Al to burst out laughing and admit he was just fucking around, and that this tiny sleeping stranger was actually just the kid of a fellow convict buddy. Maybe it was said convict buddy’s turn to rob ATMs tonight, leaving Al the babysitter. Irresponsible. Unlikely. And, turns out, untrue.

With Al's silence, Eddie knew his dad’s admission wasn't a joke.

Eddie was beyond confused now.

"Dad, how... you've been in prison for six years!"

"Conjugal visits," Al answered with a bit of a smug shrug.

Eddie shook his head in disbelief. "What the fuck? Wayne can't afford another kid that's not even his... and I'm in school still, I can't watch him... this isn't... I don't know how..."

But Al was already making his way to the door.

"I know you'll figure it out. I can always count on you, my boy," Al prided, tone cheery as if the favor he'd just asked of Eddie was to give him a quick ride somewhere or find an old family recipe.

Al wasn't acting like he was ditching another Munson offspring off on his older brother. He was treating this like an issue of minor importance, just a little speed bump on an otherwise flat road.

Al Munson was not an upstanding person. Never had been, never would be. Because of this, Eddie shouldn't have been surprised or appalled, but here he was, standing with his mouth agape. Surprised. Appalled.

His dad was out the door with a lighthearted, "See ya 'round, son," and Eddie was left speechless in the middle of the living room.

𖤐 ֪ 𖤐 ֪ 𖤐

Wayne got over the new addition to the Munson household fairly quickly.

While he'd been livid at first, calling up all of Al's old friends he'd still had the numbers of to try and find out where his dumb shit of a younger brother was, Wayne eventually became resigned to the idea that he now had another little boy to rear and mold.

What else could he do?

Wayne took care of his kin, especially if they were innocent bystanders and had no say in being born in the first place. He'd raised Eddie, and although he knew the boy had his struggles, he didn't think he'd done too bad of a job.

Eddie never went hungry, always had clothes to wear, a bed to sleep in, and Wayne was the one who haggled Eddie's van down to a reasonable price so the boy could pay for it with his lunch box salary.

Wayne knew about the weed and the pills, but so long as Eddie stayed smart about where he was selling and who he was selling to, he didn't much mind Eddie's unconventional line of work. It helped his nephew stay somewhat social, and Wayne knew how important that would be for Eddie's future. If the boy was nothing but a lone recluse his whole life, he'd probably end up just like Al. Nobody wanted that.

Eddie was just about grown now. Sure, he was rearing twenty and still in his senior year of high school, but Wayne had an inkling that '86 would be Eddie's year.

Wayne had always thought about selling the trailer and buying an RV with retirement money once Eddie was out on his own. He wanted to travel the country for the remainder of his life.

The idea that he'd have to raise up another wild Munson for the next fifteen or so years caused a knot to form in his stomach.

Would Wayne even be around for that much longer? He may have been relatively healthy, and he was only in his mid 60's, but Wayne wasn't an idiot. He knew anything could happen at any time.

Wayne knew he needed help this time around. He figured he could count on Eddie here and there, but Eddie needed to focus on school this year if he planned on finally walking the stage. Because of this, Wayne decided to enlist the help of someone on the outside. Someone with experience.

So, he posted an ad in the Hawkins Post, looking for a full-time nanny for a five-year-old boy to start as soon as possible, and waited for a response.

𖤐 ֪ 𖤐 ֪ 𖤐

Wayne didn't have to wait long.

Two mornings following the job post, shortly after he'd returned home from work, he heard a knock on the trailer door.

When he answered, he saw a pretty young thing standing on the front stoop.

"Hi!" you greeted, then immediately began to ramble. "Are you Mr. Munson? I hope it's okay I just showed up... there wasn't a number listed, only an address, and I didn't know if you wanted me to write a response and mail it, but the ad seemed maybe a little urgent, so I thought, hey, what's the harm in just... showing... up..."

You trailed off, feeling silly for word vomiting during your first impression. He was watching you with a small smile, eyes flickering with what looked like amusement, especially as your cheeks began to color to the soft red of embarrassment.

Listing no number on the ad was intentional. He hadn't owned a rotary phone in about ten years, after having tried to cut back on bills, and he knew not just anyone would make the trek to Forest Hills for a potential job offer. He’d figured only committed applicants that wouldn't waste his time would follow through.

"I have a lot of experience," you continued on at his silence, almost as if you couldn't help it, compelled to divulge all the information you could in the first three minutes of meeting. Wayne found it endearing. "I used to babysit for three different families when I was in high school. And I have two little sisters. My mom and dad worked a lot growing up, so I spent a lot of time with them. Didn't get paid, but... I made sure they didn't die or anything..."

From their brief interaction thus far, Wayne knew he succeeded in his method of weeding out flakes. You were obviously serious about the position. He felt he was a decent judge of character, and he'd learned in life that sometimes over-explaining was synonymous with caring.

"Sorry," you said, forcing out a little laugh. "I guess I could have just introduced myself. You didn't really need to know all that." You shot your hand out, giving your name. "I'm here about the nannying gig. Um, obviously. That is, if I didn't already scare you off."

Wayne took your hand in both of his own, shaking it. He placated you with a grin. "It's a lot harder than that to scare off a Munson, sweetheart. Let's go inside and meet Olly."

𖤐 ֪ 𖤐 ֪ 𖤐

Although Oliver Munson was only five, he had a spectacular vocabulary and a limitless imagination. Wayne knew the boy was a little charmer, quite like how Eddie was when he allowed himself to be, when the teenager wasn't drowning himself in existential teenage angst and nonsense.

You fell under Olly's spell almost instantly.

And it seemed the little boy had fallen under yours as well.

Oliver didn't stop talking to you while you were there, and didn't stop talking about you after you’d left, asking when you’d be back and if next time you could take him to the trailer park's playground and maybe you two could watch G.I. Joe or He-Man together afterward.

Wayne had taken your number down before you’d left and had told you he'd be in touch soon.

Later that evening, after Eddie had gotten back from his club meeting at school, Wayne took the trip into downtown Hawkins to use the payphone and ask you if you wouldn't mind starting as early as tomorrow.

𖤐 ֪ 𖤐 ֪ 𖤐

You were far from struggling for money.

Your father was a sought-after criminal prosecutor for the entirety of Indiana. Your mother was a real estate agent for high profile clientele who came from old family money; her father was CEO of a day trading business, and his father before him had been the same.

Although you likely would have never had to work a day in your life and could live a comfortable existence off of inheritance alone, handouts and the humdrum of an All-Play-and-No-Work lifestyle was never a dream of yours. That sounded so cookie cutter, so monotonous, so boring.

You liked to feel a sense of accomplishment. You liked setting goals and reaching them. You didn't want to freeload off of money that was gained from the capitalistic professions your parents were a part of. You wanted to be in control of your own finances and be the author of your own future, not have it already be etched into stone simply by being just another rich kid from Hawkins, à la the likes of the Carver's or the Cunningham's or the Harrington's.

You were ecstatic when you got the call from Wayne, asking you if you’d be willing to start the following day. He left for work at 2PM, so you’d have to be there before then, and would need to plan on staying until Wayne's nephew got home around six.

If you were to be completely honest with yourself, you felt a bit nervous, but the job itself wasn't the reason why that writhing feeling accompanied your excitement.

You had more than ten years of babysitting experience under your belt, and you were eager to get back into a job you actually enjoyed as opposed to trying out different careers to see what stuck and what didn't. Having graduated the spring before, you’d been taking an off year to save up money by working odd jobs around Hawkins to be able to buy your own apartment.

You’d worked as a florist for a few weeks, but it turned out your thumb was pitch black instead of green.

You worked as the personal assistant for a group of lawyers from a local law firm, but it turned out they just needed office eye candy and not someone to actually get any sort of work done.

You worked as a veterinary assistant, but it turned out the job was much more than just petting cats and dogs. You couldn't handle it when a sick animal would come in and there would be nothing anyone could do. Your heart broke more at that clinic than it had your entire life.

You were in between jobs when you’d decided to peruse the classified section of the Hawkins post. There, in the shortest blurb on the page, was a listing for a needed nanny, a full-time position offering negotiable pay.

The next bit was where the excitement wavered.

The listing was published by a Wayne Munson of the Forest Hills trailer park.

That had to be Eddie Munson's uncle. There was no way there were two separate Munson families living in the only trailer park in Kerley County.

You couldn't believe that you’d stumbled across this ad, that the geeky metalhead you’d crushed on since your freshman year of high school had a little brother you could be the potential nanny of.

You were two years younger than Eddie, but that hadn't stopped you from losing periods of time to daydreams about the way the wind ruffled his wild mess of curls on breezy days or the way his band tee sleeves always clung perfectly to the soft muscles of his biceps or the way his cheeks dimpled when he teased the other boys he sat with at lunch.

You’d always wanted to introduce yourself, but you didn't run in the same crowds -- you being on the cheer team and Eddie blasting Black Sabbath in the parking lot after his Hellfire meetings. You could never muster the courage. He seemed so carefree, so full of life, so effortlessly funny. Chrissy Cunningham, your best friend, had spoken to him once or twice and had told you how different he was than what other people said about him. He wasn't scary or mean or threatening, and instead was warm and silly and genuine.

But you knew how the people you spent your time around treated people like him. You knew your group of "friends" referred to him as a freak, a Satan worshipper, and did everything in their power to try to bully him into becoming a shell of himself. Thankfully, he never did -- it was almost as if Eddie absorbed the hatefulness and spent it tenfold by mocking the hilarity of the jock hierarchy that ruled the school, as well as using it to strengthen his own ability to embrace every misfit that walked the halls of Hawkins High.

You never introduced yourself because you were afraid he’d think you had an ulterior motive, that you’d be trying to talk to him as a joke or a prank. You knew the company you kept. You were sure Jason Carver had once or twice suggested you do just that, lead Eddie on and make a fool of him in front of the whole school.

You figured it'd be best to just stay away.

But now, you thought finding this ad was possibly a sign from the universe.

Maybe you were getting a second chance.

𖤐 ֪ 𖤐 ֪ 𖤐

Eddie was running late.

He was supposed to be back home half an hour ago to relieve whoever Olly's new babysitter was of her duties, but the campaign had taken a shocking turn and Hellfire couldn't disband until it had commenced.

The night finally ended with Will's character decapitating Dustin's, and Eddie had to thwart an actual attack when Dustin leapt across the game table at Will in a bout of rage. Dustin was small but mighty, and Eddie had to physically wrestle the boy off of Will's neck, threatening to banish Dustin from the next few campaigns if he didn’t chill out. Henderson had huffed and puffed but had admitted defeat and apologized to Will for the attempted murder.

By the time Eddie arrived back to the trailer park, the sun had almost set. He pulled his van into his parking spot to the right of the trailer and shut it off. Stepping out, he swung his backpack over his shoulder, but came to a halt when he heard Olly's scream sound from behind the trailer.

Dropping his bag and beginning to run toward the noise, Eddie's heart fell to his stomach. Horrible images of what could possibly be pulling that sound from his little brother pervaded Eddie's mind. He had an overactive imagination to begin with, and something like this verbal cue only egged it on. "Olly!" he shouted, panic raising his voice. "Olly, are you okay?! What’s going on, where are --"

Eddie came to a halt when he found the boy in the backyard with a huge smile spread across his small, sweaty face. Olly had a fake crown on, one made of twigs and leaves, and he was carrying one of the biggest sticks Eddie had ever seen. He had a blanket tucked into the back of his shirt, the cloth a makeshift cape. A thin piece of metal, probably from one of the cars Wayne and Eddie sometimes worked on, was wrapped around his center, acting as armor.

Olly had just been playing.

Letting out a heavy breath of relief, Eddie noticed your frame just off to the side. His eyes started from the ground up, noting the shiny red Docs donning your feet, moving up bare legs that were covered mid-thigh by a short black skater dress, one that hugged your curves in a way that had Eddie’s mouth going dry.

By the time he reached your face, your eyes were wide with amusement.

You’d been watching as he slowly drank you in. He didn't mean to ogle. He had to shake his head a few times to clear it, and when he did so, the face before him started looking more and more familiar.

"Wait," he started, head tilting. He spoke your name, tone riddled with confusion. "From high school?"

You were about to answer when Oliver cleared his throat, obviously not wanting to be ignored or to have his playtime interrupted any longer. You looked down at the boy, who pointed up to his head at his crown. You got the gist -- Olly wanted the game to continue. You could indulge him. You’d been doing it all day, and honestly you’d been having the most fun you’d had in a while.

You turned your attention back to Eddie, fixing your posture and jutting your chin out slightly. "I don't know who that is," you began, voice lilting. "I am Princess Guinevere of Kerley County and this here,” you brought your gaze back down to Oliver, “is my most loyal servant, Sir Olly of Castle Munson."

Eddie couldn't help the grin that broke out over his face at your announcement. He then took a moment to fully take in the rest of your appearance. You, too, had on a makeshift crown, this one made up of cherry blossoms and daisies. You had a flowing blanket tucked into the back of your dress, cascading down your back like a veil.

No fucking way were you, last year's cheerleading captain and prom queen, standing in his backyard playing fucking knights and princesses with his little brother. No fucking way.

Olly broke the silence by shouting out, "Hey, Eddie! Who are you gonna be?"

Eddie tore his eyes from you to focus on his brother. He pursed his lips to one side in thought, trying to come up with a character. He was usually quick on his feet when it came to creative play, but he had just spent the last three hours DM'ing a month-long DnD campaign. His brain felt shot. He was pulled from his introspective reverie by your soft, suggestive voice — no, sorry — the soft, suggestive voice of Princess Guinevere.

"Wanna be my dragon, Eddie?" you asked.

Eddie wasn't exactly sure why that made his breath catch in his throat.

He nodded dumbly, silent, then forced himself to speak because he didn't want to look totally lame in front of a Princess. "Okay. Yeah, I'll be your dragon."

You graced him with a smile before Oliver's tiny but booming voice cut through the air of the darkening night. "HEY! Dragons don't talk!" the boy stomped his foot and hit his stick against the muddy ground in annoyance.

A laugh bubbled from your throat and Eddie grinned, jumping into a wide-legged stance before outstretching his arms, tilting his head back, and roaring.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x you #stranger things

[pellucid-constellations]

angstober (3)

Prompt: "But I love you"

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

A/n: This takes place at the beginning of civil war :) ANGST!! I love angstober <3

You can also read my angstober drabbles here and here (if you wanna)!!

~~~

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. 

God, how things were supposed to be different. 

Bucky rummaged through a backpack he’d thrown in the corner of your apartment sometime last month. You hadn’t thought much of it at the time. Now, you were left wondering just how many items he’d strewn about his life, a randomized placement of his belongings all ready for him if he needed to bolt. 

Would he take you, too? Were you not something he considered his? 

“Bucky, talk to me. What’s going on?” you tried. You’d already asked that same question in three different ways. After he’d barged through your door with his hoodie drawn up to his chin and his hat low on his forehead, you’d bombarded him with questions. He hadn’t answered any of them. 

And he was wearing gloves. He hadn’t worn gloves around you in a long time. 

“I can’t tell you. Can’t stay here.” 

You were grateful for a response this time, at least. You tracked him with your gaze as he zipped up his backpack and moved through your kitchen, removing pots and pans from your cabinet in a loud, clattering motion. He reached his arm in until his elbow disappeared within the wooden doors and then pulled it back out, a gun now firm in his grip. 

“When did you put that in there?” you startled, uncrossing your arms from your chest. You were still in your pajamas. Bucky had gone to get breakfast and left you in bed. And now he was leaving. 

“A while ago,” he responded, the words barely forming on his lips.

He was moving again before you could truly voice your bafflement, shrugging the bag over his shoulders and readjusting the straps. Panic surged through your chest and up your throat. He really was leaving. You knew he’d been running from something when you met all those months ago, but there had been nothing wrong when he left this morning. You made him feel safe. He wanted to stay with you. He’d told you that himself. 

You reached out a hand and he jolted at the contact, gaze shooting up to meet yours. Your eyes flickered between his own, desperation clear in your expression as you pleaded with him. “Don’t leave. Tell me what’s happened.” 

Your hand burned on his shoulder but you couldn’t remove it. 

He looked almost as ruined as you did, but there was something else behind his eyes. Determination, maybe? Resolve? 

“I can’t.”

It was the shortness that ultimately broke you. You heaved out a pained breath as your waterline filled, letting your hand drop. Your arm swung uselessly down to your side and you bit into your lip as your eyelashes gathered moisture.

Bucky’s stoic demeanor fractured, a tiny sliver showing you the man you’d come to know. The one you’d carved out from cold, hard stone. It had taken you weeks to get him to smile, even longer to get him to finally kiss you. When he spent the night for the first time, he was too stiff to hold you. But that was all different now. He was different now. 

He had told you he wanted to stay. That he wanted to keep you safe. 

You saw that part of Bucky as his lips twisted into an uncomfortable grimace, his arms reaching out to haul you into his chest. 

“C’mere,” he grunted out, chin resting on the crown of your head. “C’mere, honey, I’m sorry.” 

You cried into his chest, hiccuping as you asked, “Why are you leaving? I can come with you. I want to help you.” 

He shushed you, running gloved hands along the back of your head. “Can’t, baby. Where I’m headed isn’t safe. I’ve been real lucky for a while but that luck’s run out.” 

“Bucky, you can’t—” 

“I’m not good for you here. I need to keep you safe and I can’t do that while I’m being selfish. I’d give anything to bring you with me, but I won’t put you in danger.” 

You pressed your nose into his chest, willing the feel of him into your memory. You could hardly breathe like this, but that didn’t matter. When he left, when he was really and truly gone, you probably wouldn’t be able to breathe at all. 

Your hardwood floor creaked beneath your feet as Bucky stepped closer and burrowed you further into his body, his lips pressing hard against your forehead. You hated this apartment—this tiny, cloistered space in Romania. It would only serve as a reminder of him once he was gone. 

Maybe you would move. 

But would he be able to find you, once it was safe? Would he come looking? 

The thought made your chest constrict. What if he never came back? 

Bucky pulled back from you, taking your face into his palms. His face scrunched up in displeasure at the tears still glistening on your cheeks, and he tried to remedy them with the pad of his thumb. They kept coming, even when you’d stopped crying. 

“I have to go. Longer I stay here, the more danger you’re in.”

Your next words fell from your lips without hesitation, tears thick in your tone as you stressed, “But I love you.” 

Bucky froze, mouth parting. You’d said it with so much sadness, so much heaviness in the words he’d been aching to hear for so long. You hadn’t said them yet because you didn’t want to scare him off. 

But he was leaving now. There was nothing to lose. 

The kiss he pressed to your lips was hard and rushed and a breath left his nose with so much tension a low groan accompanied the action. His fingers were gripping your jaw and desperately trembling. His feet were slotted between yours and you tugged at his jacket to bring him closer, closer, closer. 

“That’s why I have to leave,” Bucky huffed out against your lips, eyes closed. He couldn’t watch as he left you. “I’m gonna find you again. Even if it’s in another life.” 

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes #angstober 2023 #day 18

[wyattjohnston]

kinda hope they catch us - andrei svechnikov

summary: 3 times the engagement was a secret and 1 time it wasn't.

word count: 1,698

note: this is a fic written for @isconnormcdavidok as part of a server exchange run by @mp0625 💚

It never ceased to amuse Eva that seeing the other WAGs was like seeing a friend you hadn’t seen in months. It had been 2 days since the last home game, and yet it would still be all hugs, kisses and tell me what I’ve missed. Some of them weren’t at the game so Eva could talk about dragging Andrei along to Christmas with her folks, at least. Everyone else would get a somewhat rehearsed story about her plans for starting the New Year off on the right foot.

It was only ever so hard during the holidays when everyone always expected a big, grand tale every time they saw each other.

And only more so of a big deal because she was keeping a secret.

A large secret.

A secret taking up quite a bit of real estate on her left hand.

1.

Eva sighed at the line up of cars in the driveway and on the street outside her parents’ house. She had tried so hard to not be late for once, and she thought she was doing an excellent job.

Andrei assured her that they were, actually, only fifteen minutes late, which was the most on time Eva could ever remember being and her family would hopefully be impressed by that fact.

They made their way to the front door, arms so loaded with presents that she had to awkwardly press her nose to the doorbell because neither of them could free a hand to let themselves in.

A nervous buzz zipped through Eva’s body, her body bursting to tell her family news they’d been waiting to hear for what felt like forever, and she had her mouth open to spill it as soon as the door opened in front of her—except she was grabbed by the arm, her cousin letting out an exasperated “finally”, and hauled into the living room where the entire family was waiting.

Eva looked at Andrei, about to ask him if this was all his doing, to ask if he’d planned this, only to be met with him staring back at her and about to ask the same thing.

There wasn’t any time to work it out between them, though, because Eva’s sister was pulling her husband in front of them all and announcing that she was pregnant. Eva’s left hand got suddenly heavier.

It didn’t matter, though, that it had to put their plans on hold—and there was no question that that had to be the case—Eva used the now empty couches to unload presents from her arms, taking the ones Andrei was carrying.

“We’ll still be engaged tomorrow,” she whispered to him, the pressure of his hand on her upper back settling her.

His laugh was deep but soft when he said, “I know, Zolotse. I know.”

Eva joined the line to celebrate her sister and the pregnancy that she had all but given up on ever happening.

No effort was made throughout lunch to hide the new engagement ring, not intentionally on her part, anyway. Andrei holding hers hand throughout lunch, or when everyone moved back to the couch after, was the norm so nobody thought anything of it. He just so happened to be hiding the news they’d been so eager to share.

2.

Eva always made an effort to watch Andrei’s home games; she’d very much grown to enjoy over the course of their relationship, having met Andrei very early on in his NHL career. There was a nice rotating cast of significant others and kids who appeared at games, too, and Eva’s relationships with them had become some of her most cherished.

“Are you going to take your coat off?” Courtney asked, tugging at material as she passed Eva. “And gloves?”

Eva balled her hands up and then shoved them under her thighs. Her ring caught on the glove which in turn caught on her jeans, but she wasn’t going to let the cold get to her.

“Are you coming down with something?” Gracia asked, concerned enough to put her hand against Eva’s forehead. “It doesn’t feel like you have a fever.”

“I’m just really cold. I haven’t been able to get warm all day.”

“Jesus Christ, you’re twenty-three not eighty-three. Can you start telling us when it’s about to rain?”

Eva rolled her eyes, insisting that she wasn’t sick or old or anything else. She was cold.

There was a period of time before the game started where people were seeming to give her a wide berth; Eva was unsure if it was because they thought her contagious or if she looked generally unhappy about being at the game. And she wasn’t unhappy to be there; she made that very clear when Nykki finally sat next to her.

“Are you sure? You’re a little grumpier than usual.”

“Because nobody will let me be cold!” Eva protested. “I’m just trying to get warm.”

During the first intermission, a blanket from the team store was delivered. It was mortifying.

Andrei, when they were both home after the game, found it amusing at least, when he saw it laid across their bed where she was waiting for him with the covers tucked up under her chin.

3.

The boys were, yet again, off in a road trip. This time, just for one game in Toronto before they flew back for New Years’ Eve. Eva was out to brunch with most of the younger cohort of WAGs, ready to start ringing in the new year even if it was a day early.

Before she left, she’d spoken on the phone with Andrei as he was rushing out the door to get on the bus for practice.

“I think I’m going to take the ring off,” she had said, spinning the ring around her finger as she spoke.

There was a beat, much thicker than Eva had been expecting, before Andrei asked in a thick voice, “You what?”

“Nobody knows yet, right?” she asked, unsure if Andrei had told any of his teammates. It wouldn’t be a big deal, but she would have expected him to tell her. “Taking it off until you get home won’t be a big deal.”

Another beat followed, and Eva was expecting him to tell her that people already knew, that he was nervous to do so. She was opening her mouth to say that she wouldn’t bother if people already knew—because everyone would definitely know before she left for brunch—but Andrei beat her to it, sounding even more dejected.

“Zolotse… You don’t want a ring? You don’t want to be engaged?”

“Oh, god. Andrei. No. That is not what I mean!” Eva said in a rush, her voice becoming more and more high pitched with each word.

“What you mean?”

“If I take it off, we can tell people tomorrow! Together!” she held her left hand to her chest and bit the inside of her cheek as her eyes started to water. “Andrei, baby, I just want to tell people together. That’s all.”

Andrei asked her softly, a couple more times before he had to leave, to promise him she was telling the truth.

It put a bit of a damper on heading out to brunch, because she found that, even though it had been her idea, taking off the ring was a struggle. Still, she put it delicately on her bedside table, and headed out to see her friends.

+1

Hiding the ring was easy when her hand was securely in Andrei’s as they walked into the New Years’ Eve party. She was filled with nervous energy, and even though the ring was hidden she found herself looking at everyone as if they would be able to tell with just one look at her.

Not that they had up to that point.

They weren’t without drinks for very long as someone seemed to have been tasked with holding a tray right near the doors. Eva, without any input from Andrei, led them straight to where Martin and Nykki were standing off to the side—they were the first people they wanted to tell, after all.

There were handshakes and hugs the second Martin and Nykki noticed their arrival.

“Did you find the non-alcoholic wine?” Nykki asked, gesturing to Eva’s champagne flute and earning a furrowed brow in response.

“No? Why would—no, that’s not what I want to talk about. We have something to tell you.”

“I fucking knew it,” Nykki shouted, immediately turning to Martin and excitedly smacking his chest. “I told you she was pregnant?”

Andrei choked on his drink.

“Pregnant?” he asked, hurried and panicked.

“What the fuck?” asked Eva. “Where the fuck did you get that idea?”

“You’re obviously keeping a big secret.” Nykki’s tone was more accusatory than Eva expected. “You’ve been weird since Christmas, and you were really sick at the game on Saturday, and you’re not drinking—”

Eva cut her off to exclaim, “I had three mimosas at brunch yesterday!”

“They weren’t orange juice? What have you been hiding from us then?”

“This fucking dwarf planet I’ve been wearing for a week?” Eva pulled her hand from Andrei’s to hold it out to Nykki and Martin. “That somehow nobody has noticed? It has gravitational pull.”

Nykki grabbed Eva’s hand so rapidly that Eva was startled, but she let Nykki inspect it closely whilst Andrei and Martin had a silent conversation over Nykki’s excited screaming. It drew the attention of everybody nearby.

There was a lengthy conversation once more of the WAGs gathered, how did he do it? When did he do it? Why didn’t you tell us? And Eva had to try and convince them that she hadn’t meant to—aside from the brunch—it had just ended up that way. Not one of them believed her in the moment.

Her hand was being passed around the group, everyone admiring the ring and asking questions Eva didn’t know the answer to, so Eva caught Andrei’s eye here he was holding court with the boys and nearly melted at the softness of his smile. At the pride behind his eyes. At the love that emanated from his entire body.

#andrei svechnikov fic #andrei svechnikov imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #hockey fic #homemade fic #canes fic #hockey girlies fic exchange

[mommymccabe]

Ooh, ive got one, Katie McCabe x reader, where Katie basically spends every bit of free time shes not training or with friends flirting with and trying to fluster the reader despite her stormy stoic nature and it turns out the reader is just a really big softie for katie but tries really hard to hide it in front of the others. That's not all I've got for it, but I'll leave it entirely for you to perceive and deduce the plot and stuff 😅

Pairing: Katie McCabe x reader

Warnings: fluff, swearing

Summary: Katie is always getting under your skin, you finally get her back.

Word count: 800

an: i apologise for the wait, i’ve been sick and had no motivation but im working through the requests. hope you enjoy :) x

________________________________

Training today had been exhausting and really took it out of you. As you and Leah walk to the change rooms, you feel someone run up behind you and wrap their arms around you. You jump and scream, trying to get away until you hear;

‘Calm down y/l/n, it’s just me.’ Katie says with a smirk.

You turn and face her with an unimpressed look on your face.

‘Katie stop fucking doing that. You give me a heart attack every time.’ You whine

‘But it’s so so funny to see you freak out.’ Katie laughs, Leah joining her.

You turn to look at your best friend.

‘Really? Rude!’ You yell.

Leah simply shrugs at you before continuing walking to the change rooms, you and Katie following closely behind.

‘You know, you looked really hot out there. Gotta say, watching you run around and just dominate. Very attractive’ The Irish woman states from beside you.

She always does that, makes comments like that to get under your skin, get a rise out of you. It always works. You always end up a blushing, shy mess despite trying your best to keep your composure. She just does something to you, it’s hard to explain.

You don’t make eye contact with her as you continue walking, you hear Leah let out a giggle in front of you and as you arrive at the change rooms, a loud bang is followed by a loud;

‘Shut it Leah!’ from you, confusing the rest of the team in the change room.

As the three of you walk in, all eyes are on you, making your scowl disappear as you walk straight over to your locker and sit down. A quick moment of eye contact with everyone has them averting their gaze and focusing on what they’re doing.

‘So y/n, you free tonight?’ Katie asks with a smile.

‘Nope, got a hot date’ You reply quickly.

All eyes are back on you. You never go out, maybe to a team bonding night once a week but you rarely go anywhere to anyone else’s knowledge.

‘Oh yeah? what a lucky lady’ Katie says with a wink.

‘Whatever McCabe’ you mumble paired with an eye roll before looking at the ground, a small smile taking over your face.

You and Katie had been dating for 6 months, yet no one on the team knew, not even Leah. You felt bad for lying to your best friend but you wanted to get to know Katie on your own before making a big deal out of your relationship. But her nonstop comments and flirting makes you feel giddy and so in love. You try your best to hide it from the rest of the team but it’s getting harder.

‘You’re going on a date!?’ Leah asks from your left.

‘Yes I am. Is that really surprising? Jeez thanks guys’ you mumble with a laugh.

‘Yeah! It is! You never go anywhere, must be one special gal’ Caitlin pipes up from across the room and her and Steph share a look.

‘Nah, she’s okay’ you say nonchalantly, watching Katie out of the corner of your eye.

You watch her roll her eyes before she quickly says,

‘I could treat you better’ with a cocky smirk as she makes eye contact with you, arms resting on her knees, showing off her muscular arms. The sight has you starstruck. You can’t help but admire her beauty and body. Damn were you lucky. A quick blush takes over your face before you focus on packing your bag. You don’t respond and watch as everyone laughs at Katie’s confidence. You both talked about telling the team last night, you just didn’t expect her to be so bold with it and she definitely wasn’t expecting you to say;

‘Well, considering it’s you taking me out, i’m not sure it works like that, love’ you say with a proud smile on your face.

You watch with amusement as Katie is now the one blushing and stuttering. The team around you erupts with questions and shocked looks.

‘You two are dating??’ Leah nearly screams.

You just laugh before walking over to Katie, pulling her in for a quick kiss before walking out of the room.

‘What the actual fuck just happened’ Steph says as the room explodes with questions directed at Katie. You continue down the hall with a smile on your face followed by a;

‘Y/n you little shit’ as Katie leaves the room as quick as she can and catches up to you.

At least the team knows now.

_______________________________

#katie mccabe #katie mccabe x reader #woso x reader #woso one shot #woso imagine

[kaciidubs]

Stupid in Love

❣ Summary: Perhaps they call it falling in love because you never truly stop falling. ❣  ❣ Word Count: 813 ❣ Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff, Hyunjin fell hard for you, genuinely just fluff and love ❣  ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: Hyunjin is referred to as Hyune, Reader is referred to as My Love, I suggest listening to 'Stupid in Love' by MAX, featuring Yunjin, it's what inspired this whole thing ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist

Hyunjin was smitten.

Truly, utterly smitten, infatuated, head over heels, down bad, and stupidly, stupidly in love.

Love was a concept that was both foreign and familiar, something he knew he’d felt before but in the same breath, something he had no working experience with - which only seemed to make things worse.

Love wasn’t black and white turning to color, it was his already extensive color palette expanding with new, vibrant hues and shades he hadn’t been able to create on his own.

With you, he felt like he was walking on clouds, dancing in the drizzling rain as the sun shone through the droplets to cast the most beautiful, vibrant rainbow across the blue sky. At the same time, he felt like he was a newborn deer discovering the world on new, wobbly legs, going about everything with an air of curiosity and wonder that had his heart leaping at every turn.

Complex and simple, it made his head spin as he tried to make himself understand the feelings he was experiencing, though the only suitable conclusion he could ever come to was the simple fact that he was in love with you.

You, who giggled when he stumbled over his words while introducing himself.

You, who agreed to go on a date with him a mere three weeks after meeting, on the only condition that you would plan out the date.

You, who he found himself calling his girlfriend within the blink of an eye, and in the next blink you were both two years and a few months deep, and going strong.

You, you, you.

“...and I figured making chocolate covered fruits would be better than attempting to make an entire cake from scratch, even though Felix swore he and Seungmin could bake with their eyes closed - I’ve seen their lives before! There’s no way they’re baking anywhere near my kitchen.”

Hyunjin blinked, his subconscious floating back down to earth as he watched you wander through your kitchen with no clear goal in sight, simply rummaging through cabinets as you spoke.

Truly, he wished he could remember what spurred this conversation - he loved the sound of your voice, and it felt counterintuitive that his wandering mind would distract him from one of his favorite sounds in the world.

However, his disappointment would disappear as fast as it arrived as you turned to him, a dazzling smile holding your lips and dancing in your eyes.

“So, what d’you think we should do for valentine’s this year, Hyune?”

It would be your third Valentine's Day together, and though you both celebrated each other often, the day of love was reserved for grander gestures to keep the social tradition alive.

Pushing himself away from the island counter, he sauntered over to you before wrapping you in his arms, swooping in to steal a feather-light kiss from your lips; pulling back just enough to bask in the sight of your lidded eyes gazing up at him.

“Let’s get married.”

You ducked your head, an astonished laugh bursting past your lips, “You- What?!” Endless giggles shook your shoulders as you looked up at him once more, winding your arms around his shoulders, “Hyunjin, really!”

“Yeah, really.” He pressed, a lovesick smile curving the corners of his lips, “Let’s get married, we can go to Vegas and get it done right then and there.” Of course, he knew his suggestion was mostly in jest, but his sentiments were as true as the sky being blue.

He wanted to marry you, if not now, then sometime down the line - he wanted to be your last love.

Humming as if contemplating his offer, you tilted your head, “How about matching tattoos first? I have a feeling neither one of us would want a Vegas wedding.”

“Oh?” Now it was his turn to tilt his head, a strand of black hair tickling his forehead, “And what type of wedding were you thinking about, my love?”

“I don’t know…”

The tone of your voice was sing-song-ish - facetious, leading, and sugar coated - and he was hanging on with a bated breath.

“I was thinking… Paris?” Your teasing smile threatened to break into a full on grin as his eyes widened a margin, before they narrowed with mirth.

Arms tightening around your waist, his lips found yours in an instant, “Matching tattoos,” he hummed breathlessly, before catching your lips in a slower, deeper kiss, “then matching rings.”

Nodding, your fingers danced in the hair at the nape of his neck as you blinked up at him with adoration, “I definitely wouldn’t mind sharing your last name, Mr. Hwang.”

Hyunjin grazed his nose along yours, reveling in your smell, your touch, you, you, you.

“I’ll give it to you as fast as I can, Mrs. Hwang.”

Hyunjin was smitten.

Truly, utterly smitten, infatuated, head over heels, down bad, and stupidly, stupidly in love with you.

✧. ┊Tagged lovelies: @having-an-internal-crisis-rn, @midnightfrog625, @anyhow-everything, @bangchanbabygirlx, @sweetracha, @nightimescapes , @caitlyn98s , @ch4nn13luv , @ihrtlix , @jeonjungkookenthusiast1997 , @maximumkillshot , @y-ur--i , @acker-night , @dreamescapeswriting , @specialstay , @s00buwu , @tinyelfperson , @jj-stay , @katsukis1wife , @inlovewithmusician , @keen-li , @armystay89 , @main-character0 , @vampcharxter , @ddyskz , @prettymiye0n , @bbgnyx , @ivyisnotokay, @bahng-chrizz , @milknhoneyracha , @hann1bee , @palindrome969 , @newhope8 , @softkissfelix , @luvyev , @luminouskalopsia , @kpopsstuffs , @luvyev , @starquokka , @wolfs-howling , @laylasbunbunny , @zaethefangirl, @broken-glowsticks, @j-onedrabbles, @dawninnie, @dwaekkistar, @junglyric, @piercedddriver, @sometimesleeknows,

✧. ┊If your username is in bold italics that means tumblr won't let me tag you. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill out this form!

#skz fluff #stray kids fluff #hwang hyunjin fluff #hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x reader

[nastybuckybarnes]

Training Wheels  -  Extra

Pairing: Dark!Step-Brother!Steve Rogers X Innocent!Reader

Summary: Your stepbrother would do anything for you. And he’s more than happy to prove that over and over and over again until you believe him. No matter what it takes.

Warnings: Language, Dark Themes, Age Gap, Angst, Kinda Fluff, 

Word Count: >1K

A/n: I wrote this forever ago but never posted it so here’s a little extra piece for training wheels. The first parts can be found below. I’ve got two other things queued up to be posted that I might just fire off right away for shits and gigs but who knows!

Part One Part Two Part Three

!!!!THIS IS A DARK FIC WITH SEXUAL AND TRIGGERING CONTENT! 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!

~*~

The line rings for a moment before connecting, a heavy breath filling the silence before- “Hi, Bunny.” 

Your insides melt, bottom lip wobbling as you look through the thick glass to those endless blue eyes that you’ve fallen in love with. 

“Hi, Steve.” 

He smiles softly, his eyes devouring your features. 

You haven’t changed at all since he last saw you. 

Well, you look more tired, and your face is the tiniest bit rounder, but other than that you’re the same. And just as beautiful as ever. 

“How’re you doing, sweet girl?” 

You swallow hard, fighting tears as you sigh. 

“I’m okay. I... I miss you.” 

He nods, knowing the feeling all too well. 

“I miss you too, honey. But I’ll be out soon, okay?” 

You nod, biting your bottom lip for a moment. 

“My mom doesn’t want me to come visit you anymore, says you’re dangerous. I tried convincing her but she doesn’t wanna hear it. Your dad drove me here though, he said he’s glad you have me.” Your eyes stay trained on his, sadness filling them. 

“I miss you,” you repeat, tears filling your eyes. 

He sighs, placing his hand against the thick glass separating the two of you. You lift your own hand, squeezing your eyes shut and wishing you could feel his warmth. 

“Hey, look at me, Bunny.” 

It takes you a moment, but you do, your eyes meeting his. 

“I’m gonna be out of here soon, pretty girl. Then we’ll be back together again. I’ll build us a nice house and your mom won’t have any say in it, okay?” 

You nod, taking a deep breath.

“I-” A hand falls on your shoulder and you jump, turning to look at the person.

“Time to go, girly.” 

You grind your teeth but nod at the security guard, turning back to look at Steve.

“I love you, Steve,” you whisper into the phone. 

His eyes soften and he gives you a soft smile. 

“I love you too, Bunny.” 

You hang up, eyes lingering on his for a moment longer before you’re being ushered out of the building. 

~*~

You shut the door to your apartment with a sigh.

It’s been a long day. 

You peel off your shoes then head towards the couch, freezing in your tracks when you see a figure standing by the TV. 

“Hey, Bunny.”

Your heart races in your chest, throat constricting and hand fluttering down to your stomach. 

Steve. 

He turns to you with a smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. 

“I thought you weren’t getting out for another six months!” You exclaim softly. 

“Got out early. Of course, I would’ve told you that, but you stopped coming to see me.” His eyes get dark, borderline hostile, and you swallow hard.

“I... Mom kicked me out when I tried to see you. When... when she found out. Bucky and Nat helped me find this place and I've been trying to save up money for when you got out.” 

His brows pull together and he takes a step towards you slowly, not wanting to scare you after all this time. 

“Honey, you didn’t need to stop coming when she kicked you out.” 

You sniffle, a stray tear sliding down your face. 

You did. 

He couldn’t find out. Not while in prison. He would’ve fought tooth and nail to get out and that would’ve only kept him from you for longer. 

“I... Steve I...” 

His eyes devour your figure, zeroing in on where your hand is protectively on your belly. 

“Bunny...” His eyes flash up to your face then back down to your bump. 

You only nod. 

“You... is that why you stopped coming? Why your mom really kicked you out?” 

You nod again, sniffling and scrubbing a tear off of your cheek. 

“I-I didn’t wanna tell you ‘till you got out. But...” 

He’s got you in his arms in the next second, lips pressed against your forehead as he whispers soft little words of reassurance.

“It’s gonna be okay, Bunny, I promise. M’gonna take care of you and our little one in here.” 

He pulls back a bit, eyes on your protruding belly. 

“You look so pretty like this, Bunny. All nice and knocked up. Got my baby growing inside you. Can't wait for you to have my baby, Bunny. Then m’gonna fuck another one into you.” 

You whine, tilting your head back to look up at him, and he finally, finally, closes the distance. 

His lips find yours after seven months of no contact. 

Seven long, torturous months. 

But now you’re here in his arms and he’s here in yours. 

He’s not letting you go. Not again. 

#Steve Rogers x reader #dark!Steve Rogers x reader #step brother au #step siblings au #Steve Rogers x reader dark fic #w:dark fic #dark fic #Steve x reader dark au #stepbrother!Steve x reader #training wheels #nastybuckybarnes

[ltbarnes]

‘Tis the Damn Season

Stark U #6

Summary: It’s Christmas Eve, you’re too drunk, you’ve basically avoided Bucky and Steve for six months and the last person you’d want to meet at this party just happens to be yelling in your face. The panic attack is inevitable, really.

Pairing: college!Steve Rogers x reader, college!Bucky Barnes x reader, college!Sam Wilson x reader, college!Natasha Romanoff x reader

Word count: 7.8k

Warnings: so much angst, past SA, alcohol, talk about violence, Christmas celebrations, things finally start to happen, kissing :)

A/N: Happy holidays to anyone who celebrates and to those who don’t, I hope you have a good few days anyways <3 This is the first I’ve posted since July which is awful of me so sorry

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

You didn't see them all summer. The day after your last exam was over, you bolted back to your hometown and spent the entire summer selectively ignoring messages from Bucky and Natasha and Steve and Sam asking what you were doing and how your summer was going and maybe you could all meet up and go somewhere and—

It's December now, and every goddamn day since June you have been trying to figure out if what Bucky said to you when you were sick was a fever-induced hallucination or if he really, actually, said that he wanted you to take his last name someday. It made you panic, because the entire spring term you tried to convince yourself that your feelings towards them were batshit crazy and any inkling to them feeling the same was a delusional reach, grasping for crumbs that in reality were just friendly gestures. And then he says that.

"She's just practicing her future last name, Stevie."

So, yeah...things have been weird. Three months have passed since classes started and none of you want to mention what happened right before summer break. Actually, with each day passing you feel more like maybe it was just a hallucination or a very vivid dream, because both Bucky and Steve act like it never even happened. Bucky even had his mouth latched onto some blonde sophomore at a dumb, stupid frat party on Halloween. You went home right after and cried for two hours. But it's not hard to conclude that even if there was some spark or connection or anything beyond friendship with either of them before summer, it has died out completely.

The subject will probably never be broached. You're too scared of confrontation and definitely too scared of revealing unreciprocated feelings for that to happen. The slightly tense atmosphere in the loft is entirely your fault—your lack of communication with anyone in the group during the summer has made them a little confused, you guess. You mostly spend time in your room, giving excuses of studying and talking with parents on the phone and 'I'm just tired, sorry'.

Spending too much time with Natasha scares you too, because she reads you so well and you don't want her to know how hurt and unhappily in love you are. She'll try to do something about it and then Steve and Bucky will catch on and then you will end up rejected and labeled as crazy, because who the fuck falls in love with two people?

That doesn't mean you've managed to avoid her. Living in the same apartment as her definitely makes that hard, but just the fact that she won't let you makes it impossible. Last week she even broke into your room when you had it locked, because apparently she knows how to pick a lock open in under ten seconds. She absolutely knows something is off, but so far she hasn't brought it up.

Natasha is the sole reason why you're now standing in the backyard of some rich kid's house just off campus, surrounded by smoke from cheap cigarettes and fairy lights hung up between the trees and one too many shots of vodka in your blood. It's December utterly and thoroughly—there's snow on the ground but people still haven't accepted the fact that wearing their short dresses and tank tops without jackets does not work anymore. Ice drops hangs from the tree where you stand, listening to Natasha talk with a drunken girl looking for her phone.

It's fun, sure. Not the worst party you've been to and not the best either. You talked to the girl you've been sitting next to in History class earlier for almost twenty minutes. Got free vodka. It's Friday and you don't have any exams to study for. None of that makes you forget that things aren't the same.

"Nat. Nat." You poke her shoulder repeatedly, obnoxiously probably, until she glances over her shoulder with a slight glare.

"What is it?"

"I'm gonna get 'nother drink. Inside," you tell her, pointing with your thumb towards a hedge even though it was meant to be the door. Natasha seems to understand anyway.

"Okay. Don't wander off too long. And come back here right after."

"Yes, ma'am." You give her a half-assed salute before turning around, swaying slightly in your step. It's the uneven and slippery surface of the snow-covered ground, you tell yourself.

There's a lot of people here, is what you note as you push yourself through the seemingly endless crowds of the living room. You kind of hate that they haven't played a single song you like and if Steve was here he would agree, because he doesn't listen to any music made after the internet was born. Bucky would then make fun of Steve and you would laugh and everything would be right in the world. Instead you're pressed to kitchen drawers of a dark kitchen, cheap vodka mixed with soda running down your throat.

The kitchen is crowded too, but either way it's a respite from whatever the hell's going on in the living room. Jumping up and down and calling it dancing (you were doing the same the hour before). You're too drunk to be miserable about everything happening in your life this entire term and much too drunk to feel the absolute atrocious taste of your drink.

In half an hour you will probably throw up and tomorrow will be spent nursing a horrible hangover, but those consequences seem insignificant right now. You just keep thinking about the image of Bucky shoving his tongue down someone's throat that wasn't yours. It was heartbreaking. That he's not here is a good thing, because you'd either witness the same thing again or actually bring it up to him, and that's much worse. God knows it's only a matter of time before Steve does the same thing.

Someone pushes into you, forcing the liquid from your cup to spill from the confines of the red plastic onto your dress. It's black, so it doesn't really matter, but the alcohol still seeps through the fabric until it reaches your skin.

"Shit, fuck—"

Your hand tries to somehow dry your dress by fanning the fabric, which obviously doesn't help very much, and the paper towels placed on the counter in front of you escape your drunken mind completely.

Fresh air and icy winter winds are the only options, so you push through and stumble into people on your way outside. It takes a lot longer than it should. You can't really see much considering the dizziness and darkness inside, but somehow, magically, you are eventually dragging your way towards Natasha who stands in the same place as before.

"Nat. Natty—I spilled. Look."

The black dress with the now wet patch is lifted towards her by your hands, highlighted for her to see. You sway as you tell her.

"Jesus, you can barely stand straight," Natasha answers with a stabling hand to your shoulder, shaking her head to herself instead of focusing on the very urgent fact that you spilled on yourself.

Natasha turns to the girl she's talking to, saying something you can't bother to decipher, before stepping aside with a guiding arm around you.

"We gotta get you home before you embarrass yourself for real," she mumbles underneath her breath.

"I heard that," you whisper, a loud hiccup following. Whoops.

She rolls her eyes, fishing her phone up from her pocket.

"Who—who you writing? To?" you ask, slightly aware that your sentences lack correct structure but not really caring. As long as the message comes across, right?

"I'm texting Steve. I can't drive and you sure as hell can't."

Even in your state, panic instantly sets in over the mention of his name even though you live in the same goddamn apartment.

"Nooo. No Steve."

Your hand grasps for her phone. Nat pulls it away from your reach much quicker than you can comprehend.

"Yes Steve. You're a mess and he's the only one with the patience to take care of this level of drunk. I don't care that you're avoiding them for some stupid goddamn reason," she tells you.

"Nat," you whine. "He can't see me. I spilled!"

She just glares at you. "I swear to god, Y/n...nobody cares that you spilled your drink. I can't even see it."

"I'm so drunk!"

"Yeah, I know. Just—just stay here, okay? I'm going to get you some water so you can sober up by the time your precious Steve comes for us."

Natasha is heading inside before you can process her words. Waiting in place for a few minutes turns into an eternity in your mind. She should know better than to leave you unattended and then expect you to stay—really, it's her own fault. You will accept no blame if Nat gets mad at you for going inside again. It's cold and you need to go to the bathroom. Also, you're mad at her. Telling Steve to come get you? That's just...embarrassing.

Once again you're shouldering your way past people on about the same level of intoxication as you. There's a bad remix of a Christmas song playing loudly. Makes you wanna punch whoever's phone is connected to the speaker. The bathroom is so, so far away. It's something the architect of this house should've thought of before he put it at the very end of this long hallway you're currently making your way through, but clearly he didn't have you in mind.

"Fuck! Watch where you're going, asshole," some girl seethes at you as your shoulder nudges against hers. A nudge is an exaggeration—you brushed against it at most. She's probably an aggressive drunk, that's all.

You don't answer, instead fumbling for the door handle to what you believe might be the bathroom. Some couple is making out in here, the girl with her ass planted on the edge of the bathtub and the guy nearly devouring her face. Doesn't look very pleasant, if you're honest.

"Out. I need to pee."

Your hands find their way to their shoulders, ushering the lovesick pair out of the room without much protest from either of them. They're still making out as they walk out.

Despite your less than sober state, you manage to remember to lock the door after they leave. Some of the mascara that previously inhabited your lashes has moved down to rest under your eyes. You rub it away, smudging it slightly, but it just makes you look a little more like one of those cool girls you always see on campus. It will do.

You kind of want to throw up, but decide against it. That hasn't happened since you were a freshman, and you'd like to keep it that way. Staring at yourself in the mirror occupies your time in the bathroom instead, swaying slightly with your hands placed on the cold sink. If Steve saw you now he would be so disappointed. At least you imagine he would be—that fatherly look on his face as he tells you how you need to be more mindful with your alcohol consumption. Did you even watch who poured your drink? Never go anywhere alone at a party. Especially not a frat one. You know better than this, Y/n.

Steve's imaginary voice is interrupted by someone banging on the door, shouting for you to hurry the fuck up. It's been over ten minutes, but to you it just feels like three, and Natasha has been looking for you ever since she returned to the garden with a glass of water in her hand and no one to give it to. It's not her banging on the door, unfortunately, but instead a dickhead guy who has no patience. Can't a girl spend some time alone in the bathroom doing nothing anymore?

The guy glares at you as you push the door open, stumbling out into the crowded hallway while paying him no mind. It's dark save for the red LED-lights plastered on the walls, making it feel like a seedy dive bar instead of a seedy house. You don't see much.

"Hey! Hey, you—the girl with the black dress!"

Someone pushes their way past the people talking and making out and leaning against the walls, shoving through them as he searches for your attention. Of course, you don't really think it's you he's after. Half of the people at this party are wearing black dresses.

A clammy hand finds purchase on your shoulder, halting you in your less than gracious steps and turning you around with ease. Head tilted back, gaze running upwards until they settle on the face of a quite attractive guy. He doesn't look pretty happy to see you. You're not very happy to see him either.

The blood drains from your face, stealing away all that alcohol-induced heat within a second as his curly hair and green eyes look down at you with that same contempt he had when Sam dragged him away from the kitchen almost a year ago. You had hoped you never had to see him again. It was a naive thing to wish for.

"Y/n, right?" he asks bitterly. You don't answer, but he takes your silence as a yes. It was probably a rhetorical question anyway. His slightly crooked nose was perfectly straight the last time you saw him. His face is committed to your memory, burned in to taunt you on sleepless nights and everytime an unknown man walks a little too closely when you're out alone. "Your little boyfriend broke my fucking nose. You know that?"

Another rhetorical question. Definitely more threatening. Might be the tight grip he has on your arm too. Either way, his mere presence has apparently stripped away your ability to breathe normally. It feels like you've been running to the point of nausea, dark spots dancing before your eyes as he shakes you in attempt to get an answer.

"You ruined my fucking reputation. For what? I barely touched you. Such a sensitive fucking bitch, going around telling everyone that..." His voice trails off, ushering you into a quiet corner when he realizes people are staring. "Got nothing to say now, huh? Been so good at running your fucking mouth before, haven't you?"

"Let me go," you whisper, voice wavering. You don't sound assertive at all, instead weak and fearful. It's what you feel, as an upbeat, slightly bad cover rendition of "All I Want For Christmas" booms through the house. Girls shrieking in excitement over in the living room reaches your ears. You would have joined them if you weren't currently cornered by the guy who assaulted you in your own kitchen a year ago.

"No, we're going to fucking talk. What the fuck were you doing, going around saying shit like that about me to everyone?"

"I...I didn't..." Your lips part between words, breathing out shakily, trying to articulate sentences long enough to make sense. Why can't you speak? Why can't you even think?

"You didn't what?" he seethes. "You're such a fucking bitch, you know that? Acts all innocent and hides behind her friends. My nose is fucking crooked forever because of that fuckhead you sent after me."

Is it the alcohol that renders you this goddamn useless? There's just tears springing to your eyes, unable to say anything in defense of yourself. Can't even walk away.

He pushes you against the wall, knocking the breath out of you. To other people it probably looks like you're hooking up. At least that's what you hope they think, because otherwise you want to wonder why no one is intervening.

"Joshua, please let me go," you tell him again, even more pathetic this time. You're crying now, curled in on yourself in attempt to make yourself as small as possible.

"Fuck, you're so—"

"She told you to let her go."

The assertive, familiar tone booms through the hallway. It doesn't really, can probably only be heard by the people around you, but it feels like it when Steve's tall figure pushes through with hasty steps towards where you and Joshua stand, followed by a glaring Bucky with his jaw clenched so fucking tightly. A sob of relief is drawn from your lips, muffled by the back of your hand.

Joshua steps back instantly. Kind of funny to think that he's so scared of those two, and sad to think that he only respects a 'no' when it comes from men.

"Nice nose job," Bucky speaks up, pointing at his own nose as he stares at Joshua's crooked one, courtesy of the damn good punch he managed to land with his left fist all those months ago.

"Fuck you," Joshua growls, taking a step forward in attempt to appear more threatening or something. He doesn't really succeed—both Bucky and Steve towers over him in both length and build, unrelenting in their stance. As if they're stone walls keeping out the enemy.

Steve rolls his his eyes, shaking his head with a sigh. "Just get out of here. Don't go near her ever again, you hear me? Bucky's glad to fix your nose otherwise. Break it right back. Can't promise the result will be very good, though."

Bucky stands slightly behind Steve, raising an eyebrow in Joshua's direction that tells him there's not even a trace of a lie in the blonde giant's statement.

"You—fuck this." Joshua throws his hands in the air, aiming the most distasteful glare over his shoulder in your direction, before pushing past Steve and Bucky with a shove.

Your body instantly deflates, the tension melting off your limbs as you close your eyes and lean back against the wall. Gentle, firm hands instantly reach your cheeks, your arms, searching for any trace Joshua might have left behind on your body.

"Hey, hey. Y/n, are you okay? Did he touch you? Sweetheart, look at me."

Bucky's voice draws you out of the anxious, panicked state you slipped into, fluttering your eyelids open to see his worried frown and an equally worried Steve looming behind him. Wet cheeks and red-rimmed eyes greet them, pupils dilated from the alcohol.

"Y/n, are you hurt? How long have you two been talking?" Steve adds, looming over you in such a way that his large frame blocks out any of the colorful lights plastered on the walls.

They already know you're drunk—Natasha was the one to call them here to get you, after all. Maybe your silence and obvious intoxication makes it clear to them after a couple of seconds that an answer from you is a few minutes away, a few miles of distance from this foggy, packed house. Nothing more is said or requested from you. Instead your trembling form is led away and out into the biting cold by gentle hands belonging to your friends. Even your slight shock can't shield you from freezing your ass off as soon as you get out into the fresh air again, teeth beginning to chatter within the second step on tightly packed snow.

"What the—where the hell have you been? I swear to god, Y/n, I was gone for two minutes! I've been looking for you everywhere!" an angry Natasha yells, running perfectly towards the three of you down the slippery lawn to where Steve is currently helping you into the backseat of his car.

"Nat," Steve says, giving her a pleading look that silently tells her it's not the time for a scolding.

"What? I told her to stay put when I went to get her a glass of water and she just disappeared out of nowhere. Slippery motherfucker while drunk, I swear she'll be the death of me—"

"Nat," he repeats, sternly this time. In that tone only he masters, silencing even the most eager tongues with a single exhale. "She met Joshua. And she's not okay. So please, leave your yelling for tomorrow and get in the car."

Steve holds the passenger door open, gesturing for the seat beside Bucky. He's turning the key, letting the car warm up properly while he clutches the wheel tightly. Natasha's irritated frown turns into a concerned one, nodding silently before slipping inside. Steve closes the door shut behind her.

You lean your head against the frost-covered window, fogged up by your breath two inches away from it, and close your eyes. Steve leans over you, reaching for the belt and fastens it over your torso. You forgot. He never does.

It's no surprise, doesn't startle you despite your absentminded state, when his warm hand cups your cheek, turns your head to face him. Soft, blue gaze and ridiculously long lashes. It's nothing but contrasting against the clouds released from your mouths with each breath—warm, concerned...loving? Maybe.

"Are you okay?" he whispers, thumb rubbing over your cheek.

You nod. "Yes. I am now."

Bucky puts his foot on the gas, turns on the blinker, and pulls away from the curb, out onto the streets. It's nearly soundless. The usual rumble from wheels against road is cushioned by the snow.

"This was a mistake. Sorry, I can't—" Sam gags, moving his head out of the bathroom before returning his presence within a few seconds. "You're a real shitty guard, Nat. Why'd you let her drink this much?"

All four of your roommates are gathered in the bathroom, surrounding you as if you're a newly born lion cub in a zoo, while you puke your guts out into the toilet. Steve is kneeling on the floor beside you, a comforting hand rubbing your back, while Bucky sits a few feet away with a glass of water in hand, ready for whenever you need it.

"Fuck you. You weren't there—she was like a goddamn ghost, just slipping away everytime I blinked. Looked fucking everywhere for her. 'S not my fault," Nat answers, residing on the floor of the shower in lack of space.

"Not true," you murmur in answer, your voice echoing off the ceramic surrounding you.

You're pretty much done throwing up, it's just the exhaustion following that's keeping you slumped over on the bathroom tile. Your hand stretches out in Bucky's direction, reaching for the glass of water that's gulped down within a few seconds.

"Careful. Gonna get sick again if you do it this fast," Bucky says, unable to help himself from brushing away the stray drops of water running down your chin.

The gesture is nothing new from him. He did it when you were sick all those months ago too, and you haven't forgotten it at all. His thumb gently rubbing over your skin as if you're precious, something deserving of gentleness, is engraved into your mind. You're thankful for getting most of the alcohol out of your system, because you might not have remembered this moment in the morning if not. Fuck it if you forgot the way his pupils widen just slightly, as if he didn't mean to, as if he couldn't help himself.

"I'm fine," you whisper in answer, clearing your throat. "Got it all out."

"Good." Steve's hand moves up from your back to your head, stroking it for just a second before withdrawing his touch. "Let's get you to the couch."

"I don't wanna go to the couch. Wanna be in my bed." You're pouting. Maybe there is some trace of alcohol left in you.

"Steve and Buck will feel much less like creepy stalkers if they stare at you sleeping on the couch instead of hovering around your bedroom all night like a bunch of pervs," Natasha speaks up. A snort follows after, as if it was a joke and not a statement. Definitely tipsy too, despite unwilling to admit such a weakness.

Steve raises a reprimanding eyebrow Natasha's way, telling her to shut her mouth with just his gaze. She smirks in answer.

"Don't listen to her. A fucking liar," Bucky remarks, but there's still some form of amusement in his expression. He can't even deny the statement—he is going to watch over you. Doesn't really matter if it's in the living room or in your bedroom. "Now let's get you up. C'mon."

With a push from your arms against the cold tile, you're standing on two legs again. Steve is hovering his hand near your back, ready to support if the vodka decides to topple you over. But you're fine—just tired now.

For ten minutes it feels things are back to normal again. On the living room couch, nestled in between them, your head leaning on Steve's shoulder as a stupid Hallmark Christmas movie plays on the tv. Sam and Natasha are in their rooms sleeping, and for a few moments you forget why you kept your distance. Everything would have been good if this is how the night would end. If Steve didn't have to address the past six months.

"I've missed this. With us," Steve whispers as he strokes your shoulder absentmindedly, like it's second nature to him to have his hands on your skin. "You've been so distant lately. For months, Y/n."

The room instantly becomes tense enough to make you nauseous. A clearing of your throat, an attempt to sit up out of Steve's hold and away from this conversation that you'd much rather avoid is futile—it's instantly stopped by Bucky's hand on your chest that pushes you right back.

"No," he says sternly. "You're gonna sit right here, sweetheart, and tell us why you've barely let us see you since fall term started. 'Cause it's sure as fuck not something I take lightly. Why have you avoided us?"

You look away, shaking your head to yourself as you try to talk yourself down. You will not break. You will not confess a single thing. You are going to act like everything is fine and you are not currently freaking out being sandwiched between the only two men you would gladly be sandwiched between under different circumstances than this.

"What are you even talking about?" you answer meekly. It's clear as soon as the words come out of your mouth that no one is falling for your innocent act, not even sweet, naive Steve. Then again, you're doing a particularly bad job. "Both of you think I've been distant?"

"Cut the bullshit, Y/n. If we've done something wrong, just say so." Bucky bites his cheek, glancing down for just a second, but it's enough to let his vulnerability slip. He's hurt.

A wave of guilt instantly washes over your body, an unusual feeling. During all these months of avoiding any interaction with Bucky and Steve besides the necessary ones, you didn't think that they'd actually mind your absence that much. They might not be hopelessly in love with you like you are with them, but they're still your friends. Friends miss each other.

"Or if it's something personal, you can tell us, you know? Is it anxiety, or are you feeling generally low, or...?" Steve chips in, trying to drown out Bucky's accusatory tone.

"No, no...I'm not depressed, Steve. And none of you have done anything wrong, I promise," you say hastily, shutting down their concerns as quickly as possible while trying to buy yourself time to come up with an excuse. "I just...needed some alone time."

Bucky rolls his eyes, shaking his head. Sassy man. "Bullshit again. You've spent a bunch of time with Natasha. Sam, too. It's us you're avoiding." He points to himself and Steve with his hand. "It's been almost six months, Y/n. What the hell's your problem?" He pushes himself off the couch, standing up and blocking your view of the tv. It's as if his frustration is all contained while sitting down.

"Bucky," Steve scolds, glaring up at his friend. He's not appreciating the tone at all, that's for sure.

"There's no problem, Bucky," you tell him, shaking your head. Trying to dismiss this entire conversation before you reveal too much.

"No! Y/n, I'm going fucking crazy! This is the first time you've even let me touch you in half a year!" Bucky yells, a pleading tone in his voice that breaks your heart just a little. Because it's true. You have barely even hugged since June. You've barely talked for more than five minutes at a time.

"Don't yell at her, for god's sake, Bucky," Steve adds, his hands on your shoulders and ready to get up from the couch any second.

"What the hell's going on with you, huh?!" Bucky continues, ignoring Steve's statement. His eyes are solely focused on you, void of the usual softness. There's just anger. "Cause if you can't stand us, then tough fucking luck. I can have your fucking things moved out by tomorrow for all I care. Can move right into Walker's dorm. Bet he'd accept you with open fucking arms if you get to your knees and—“

The drop of your heart down to your stomach can almost be heard, an echoing, hollow sound. You're sure of it. Bucky shuts his mouth, as if he realizes what exactly was about to come out of it. What is not even a second of silence feels like a whole minute, before Steve shoots up from his seat beside you and grabs Bucky by the collar, rattling the whole room with the force in which he nearly tackles Bucky against the wall with. The tangy taste of iron starts to fill your mouth, your teeth biting down on your lip hard enough to draw blood. There's tears lingering in your eyes but you can't hold them back, not anymore.

"You don't fucking talk to her like that, you bast—"

"I love you! It’s ‘cause I fucking love you guys!” you yell, a pathetic sob marring the words. “So I’m fucking sorry that I’ve avoided you two but I’m trying to get over these goddamn—these feelings, but I can’t, okay! I can’t!”

The bitter delivery is punctuated by the sleeve of your sweater wiping away the tears furiously, cutting Steve off and drawing both of their wild eyes towards your figure now standing up, just a minute away from a complete breakdown. You don't even process the fact that Steve cursed. It would've been teased about endlessly in any other situation.

"I will go. I'll leave if that's what you want," you seethe with a voice so unsteady that it's almost unbearable to listen to. "But I don’t hate any of you. I don’t, and I get why you’re mad. But fuck you, Bucky. Fuck you for saying that.”

More tears fall. It's futile to wipe them away when they'll be replaced the second after. You want to say more, hit Bucky where it hurts, but you cannot get the goddamn words to form on your lips. Opening your mouth and closing it again, shaking your head, comes before hastily walking towards your room and locking yourself inside without giving them a chance to answer.

As soon as the door is slammed shut, your hand comes up to your mouth to muffle the sobs. Sinking down to the floor as if you’re in a movie, forehead resting against your knees. The rate of your heartbeats could be considered dangerously high, but you just blurted out a whole love confession for two of your roommates in the midst of a fight. How the hell could everything turn to shit so quickly? Half an hour ago all of you were joking around in the bathroom, and now you're not sure you have the courage to face any of them again.

It's a rash, impulsive decision fueled by anger and betrayal and shame, but you rush over to your closet and pull out an overnight bag that's soon filled to the brim with enough things to last you a few days. You're crying the entire time.

When you pass the living room again, Bucky isn't there anymore. But Steve is. Barely a glance his way is spared, with hasty steps heading towards the hallway. You remind yourself of a furious toddler when you angrily put on your jacket, stick your feet into your winter boots. The bag is slung over your shoulder, hand resting on the door handle.

"Don't go. Y/n, please don't leave."

Steve stands at the other side of the hallway, a broken down expression on his pretty face.

"Bucky went out of line, but he didn't mean it, I swear. He's just too prideful to admit it," he continues. You shake your head, biting down on your bottom lip. "Please, honey. It’s Christmas Eve. It won’t be the same if you’re not here tomorrow.”

"I just need some space," you whisper, brushing away a stray tear with the sleeve of your jacket. You’re so embarrassed and hurt that you can barely look him in the eye. "I can't be in the same apartment as him right now."

Steve sighs, looking about ready to just throw you over his shoulder to get you to stay. But he won't do that. That's not Steve. So instead he glances down to the floor, shaking his head to himself.

“Did you mean it?” he asks softly. “The thing about—you said you loved us. Did you mean it?”

It takes a few seconds before you nod tentatively, sniffling and keeping your gaze on a spot past Steve. He doesn’t say anything.

Steve gathers courage enough to walk up to where you stand by the door, grabbing your cheeks with his hands, thumb running over the tear-stained skin gently. For a few moments, he just looks at you. Loud thoughts running amok in that perfect head of his.

“Nothing I say right now will do my feelings any justice, so I’m gonna save any big speeches for tomorrow. But just…stay. It’s 2 am, it’s freezing out and you’re still drunk. I don’t want you out there on the streets alone. I need you to stay, even if it’s only for your own safety. Don’t have to talk to any of us if you don’t want to.”

His words makes you nod automatically. All it took was his hands on your skin and the flicker of hope his words ignite in your chest, and you conceded within a second. No hesitation left in that exhausted body of yours. He‘s not saying outright that your feelings are requited, but it doesn’t feel like a rejection either. He doesn’t seem disgusted by your confession, by the knowledge that you’re in love with both him and his best friend.

“Good girl. Let’s just—let’s get you to bed, okay?”Steve tells you, squeezing your shoulder gently. With your confirmation in form of another silent nod, he nestles the bag out of your grip and takes off the jacket from your torso.

The bed feels so soft and warm and comforting when you lie down. Steve tucks you in. It’s achingly sweet and you don’t really deserve it after avoiding him and Bucky like that for so long, but he looks out for you nonetheless.

“Steve,” you whisper, drawing his gaze up to meet yours. “I’m sorry. For being so distant.”

He shakes his head. “You have nothing to be sorry for. You were scared,” Steve answers. “Don’t worry about anything, okay? Get some sleep. You’ve had a tough night, Y/n.”

The softest of smiles grazes your lips, puppy eyes gazing up at Steve. Your wonderful, caring, perfect Steve.

“Are you alright? It must’ve been hard meeting Joshua again. And what Bucky said, it…it was far from okay.”

“I will be,” you whisper.

He nods, observes your face for a few seconds. Leans down to press a kiss to your forehead—what kind of college guy even does that? And then he leaves the room, turning the light off behind him.

You’re woken up by a red headed, crazy woman sitting on top of you over the sheets, shaking your shoulders.

“Wake up, fuckhead. You’re gonna open the presents I got you,” Natasha urges, grinning down at you as you blink your eyes open, groaning.

“Fuckhead?” you ask, a tired chuckle from your lips as Natasha climbs off the bed.

“Yes. Don’t like it, huh?” she teases. “C’mon. The guys are already waiting.”

With slow steps and a loud yawn, the slightest trace of a hangover plaguing your body, you drag yourself out into the living room. Around the ugly, little tree that Sam insisted on cutting down from the campus gardens last week (he almost got arrested by the security guards) the three boys sit. Your gaze falls to the floor, scratching the skin right above your lip nervously, once Bucky looks up at you. Can’t really read his expression, but you figure you’ll lay the fight aside for the day. It’s Christmas, after all.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” Steve says, urging you to sit down next to him right there on the carpet. You offer a soft smile, and an even softer ‘Merry Christmas’ back. You’re still unsure about yesterday. Despite there being no rejection from either of them, the uncertainty is kind of killing you. A pit of anxiety rests in your stomach, an uneasy feeling corrupting every cell as you sit down on the floor next to Steve.

Not even ten minutes later, the living room is drowning in a sea of wrapping paper. Natasha went overboard with the gift shopping this year, it seems like, but her absent father is also some kind of Russian oligarch or something so she tends to use up as much of his money as she can. You’re not complaining.

The special edition of The Hobbit, signed by the director of the movie, that you managed to get on eBay and cost you a fucking fortune is received with a whispered ‘thank you’ from Bucky. He holds it in his hands tightly, staring down at the book without a word, and you don’t know if he’s happy for it. Maybe he’s not happy with anything touched by you at this moment. He hasn’t gotten you a gift, it seems like, or maybe he threw it in the trash and burned it yesterday.

Steve got you three books that he’d heard you say you wanted months ago, and a dainty silver necklace with a bee pendant hanging from it. “You know, uh, I usually call you ‘honey’ and I thought it was a little funny, maybe. But I can exchange it if you don’t like it. It’s no problem,” he had said, even though there were tears of gratitude in your eyes. Your arms were thrown around him a second later, hugging him tightly as you thanked him profusely for the most thoughtful gift.

Now you’re leaning your back against the couch, still on the floor, watching as Sam and Natasha are tinkering with his new Nintendo Switch that he got from her (overboard with the gifts, as previously mentioned). He’s so happy it almost makes you zoned out as you watch his childlike excitement. It’s nice to see the two of them so calm and sweet with each other too. Usually bickering and getting on each other’s nerves all the time otherwise.

“Y/n, can we talk?”

Your head tilts back, looking up at Bucky standing nervously in front of you, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. There’s a deep hesitation within you, a pride that wants to say no and remain in your angry state forever without confrontation. But it’s Bucky. You hate this animosity between the two of you, the tension. Despite being pissed off and hurt and afraid that he doesn’t want you, you can’t say no, so you nod and push yourself up to a stand.

Bucky closes the door to his room behind him gently, clearing his throat and looking at anything but you. A sigh comes out of his mouth, shaking his head, before he parts his lips to speak.

“I’m so sorry, Y/n. What I said was disgusting and unforgivable and so fucking out of line. You didn’t deserve that at all. So out of proportion to what I was mad at you for,” Bucky says, running the palm of his calloused hand over his face.

“It was,” you answer honestly. There’s no use in denying that what Bucky said was stupidly hurtful. He nods, looking away from your gaze.

“It made me angry thinking that you ignored me, because at first I didn’t know what I had done, you know? And then I thought for a few months that me and Steve had been too overbearing and that you tried to keep your distance because you thought we were annoying or something. But that’s not the case. I should’ve known better by now than to think that you would do anything to purposely hurt us.”

You gulp, nodding, looking down to the floor. “I’m sorry too,” you whisper. “I didn’t know that you guys thought I had something against you until last night. Obviously, you…you know now that’s not the case,” you tell him, embracing yourself with your arms. “But last night, Bucky, I…you hurt me. I know you were angry, but saying those kind of things isn’t okay.”

“I know that. God, I know, Y/n. I’m so sorry. It was fucking childish of me, retorting to saying that Jo—“ Bucky shakes his head, hands coming up to tug at the roots of his hair. “And it felt stupid giving you that present in front of everyone, so now you think I didn’t get you anything, too, and—“

“You got me a present?”

“Yes. Of course I did, Y/n. But I saw how much Natasha had bought and that necklace Steve gave you and my gift felt stupid in comparison to that. Just didn’t want to give it to you in front of everyone,” he says, a little awkwardly. A little boy giving his mother a drawing he made in kindergarten, he reminds you of.

“Bucky…that doesn’t matter. I don’t care what you have gotten me. I’ll like it no matter what if it’s from you.”

He shifts in his place, contemplating something, before picking up a sweater on his bed, revealing a wrapped present hidden underneath. Bucky took the gift from the pile without anyone noticing before, throwing it into his room so no one would see.

With a tentative hand, he reaches it out to you. Doesn’t watch as you unwrap it, instead biting on his thumbnail. You reprimand him for it, and the hand returns to his side.

“Is it a book?” You run your fingers over the cover, a hardcover with nothing on it. Blank.

“It’s a photo album. Shit, it’s stupid. I don’t know,” Bucky answers, looking about ready to snatch it back, but you open the first page up before he has a chance to.

A picture of you, Natasha, Sam and Steve on the first page. It was taken last year in November. You’re all running after one of Sam’s model planes, fall leaves singling down from the sky. It’s a beautiful picture.

“4 grown idiots running after a kid’s toy - November 12th, 2022”

“It’s just pics I’ve taken with my phone, so it’s nothing artsy or anything, but…uhm.” Bucky runs his hand through his short, brown hair.

You flip the page. You’re looking out through the kitchen window, the sun shining through and casting shadows over the room and your figure curled up on the chair.

“Angel in the sun - March 25th, 2023”

A soft chuckle is drawn from your lips, resisting the urge to run your finger over the photo, but you don’t want to smudge the blank paper. On the same page there’s another picture of you with your arms around Natasha’s shoulders, nearly wrestling her to the ground with the force of your hug. You look so happy.

Bucky looks nervous as you glance up from the photo album at him. “Know it’s not much, but…yeah.”

A loud huff of hair escapes Bucky as you throw your arms around him. It takes a second or two for him to hug you back, but he soon has his chin resting on top of your head, arms around your waist.

“I love it,” you whisper, holding onto him tightly enough to constrict his breathing.

“You do? I can take it back if you don’t like it.”

Your grip around him releases, arms coming down to your sides so you can take a step back and look him in the eyes. “This is everything, Bucky,” you say softly, feeling a lump in your throat that can turn into tears any second. “The fact that you took the time to make this for me is just…it’s the most thoughtful thing ever. And these pictures are so beautiful, Bucky, and just the thought of you sitting down and glueing them onto the page and writing captions and—“

His lips against yours. Oh god. Oh my god, Bucky has his lips pressed against yours. Gentle hands hold your jaw, his head leaning down to compensate for the height difference, and Bucky Barnes is kissing you with urgency and desperation.

The shock is enough to make you unable to return the kiss. He seems to take your surprise as rejection despite the fact that you literally yelled ‘I love you’ in his face last night. Bucky steps away and takes his hands off your skin, running his hand over his mouth, shaking his head.

“I’m so sorry, don’t know what the hell came over me, I—“

On your tiptoes, fingers grabbing his sweatshirt to pull him closer, and you nearly smash your lips against his to shut up any of that doubt he carries. It’s not a graceful or very romantic kiss, but by the sound akin to a very mild growl that comes from Bucky and his hands sliding down to your waist to pull you closer, you guess he likes it anyway.

It doesn’t last more than 20 seconds. A harsh knock on the door to Bucky’s room interrupts it, forcing you part from his lips and get down from your tiptoes again.

“What the hell are you doing in there? C’mon! I’ve made goddamn Christmas brunch!” Sam yells, drawing a soft chuckle from your lips as your forehead meets Bucky’s chest.

With a soft smile, nothing said, you back away from Bucky. Slipping out of his room and leaving him there all flustered and semi-hard from a 20 second make-out session. The first ever between you, though. He thinks it’s pretty understandable.

As Bucky follows you into the kitchen, sitting down at the table by Steve, he leans towards his best friend and whispers into his ear low enough to make anyone else unable to hear.

“I kissed her, Stevie,” Bucky says with a shit eating grin on his face. “I finally fucking kissed her.”

The blond man turns his head enough to look over at Bucky, the red flush of his cheeks and ears enough to tell anyone what’s been said.

“Are you serious?” Steve asks.

“I kissed her and she kissed me back, I swear. I gave her that photo album I’ve worked on for weeks. She said she loved it, Steve.”

“I guess it’s my turn then, isn’t it?” Steve answers, a shy smile on his lips as the two of them watch you sit down opposite of them at the table, glancing through the window out at the heavy snowfall. Natasha puts a newly toasted bagel on your plate.

“Go get our girl, Stevie.”

#stark u #marvel fanfiction #marvel fic #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes angst #sam wilson x reader #natasha romanoff x reader

[totalswag]

deserve better — RAFE CAMERON

authors note thank you so much for all the love from my last concept. heartbreak is one of the worst things you can go through. remember that you deserve the best.

summary in which reader finds out her boyfriend has been cheating on her and she goes to her childhood friends house, Rafe Cameron, and the two express a few things to eachother.

warning heartbreak, cheating, swearing, kissing, crying, and some cuteness in the end

Your boyfriend, Y/B/N, was home visiting for the summer from college. He plays football for North Carolina University.You go visit every now and then when you aren’t busy with school and work; you decided to attend a junior school and work to save enough money for an apartment next fall. 

Ever since Y/B/N got back, you guys have been hanging out. But, he’s been acting weird, distant. He doesn’t let you go on his phone, he usually lets you. Something’s off with him and you can’t seem to put a finger on it. 

You’ve told your two best friends about his weird behavior. They’ve known him just as much as you have. They think he’s talking to another girl and doesn’t want you to find out. You feel the same but deep down you hope that’s not the case.

Y/B/N was in the shower when you woke up. The breeze from the open window felt really nice coming through the room. You started to stretch your body before getting out of bed. Y/B/N phone started buzzing on his night stand, you brushed it off thinking it was one of his friends but it started buzzing non stop. 

Worry filled your stomach. Getting weird feelings like this never ends well. So, you being you, grabbed his phone to see who it could be. 

Your face quickly went from a smile to a frown. A girl named Amelia was blowing up his phone. That weird feeling in your stomach was telling you to unlock the phone.

Wrong password

“Huh?” you whispered to yourself, frowning.

His password is your birthday and has always been that way once you said yes to being his girlfriend.

“What could it be?” you think hard, really hard. 

Then it hit you, his other password option is his jersey number for football. 

Once the phone unlocked, you went to his messages. You know it’s wrong for you to do this but something seems off about this situation.

You click on Amelia's message and your stomach immediately drops. You can’t believe what you are reading as you scroll.

I miss you baby

I can’t wait till you come back and we can be together

I miss the way your hands feel on my body. 

That’s when you lost it. Tears streamed down your face. You felt betrayed and heartbroken. So many emotions running through your body. At this point you want to go home. You grabbed your phone and started putting on your shoes.

Before you leave his bedroom and go home, he walks out to you crying on the edge of the bed. He walks over with worry and concern, kneeling on both knees, asking what’s wrong.

“Hey baby, are you okay?” you scoff, pushing his hands off your knees.

“Don’t baby me. We’re done. Don’t text me or call me ever again” he looks at you confused, “what are you talking about?” he tries grabbing your hand, you back up. 

“Your little girlfriend, Amelia texted you about how much she misses you” you are going off on him and he’s standing there with guilt, “just like that, three years down the drain. I’ve done nothing to you for your dumbass to cheat on me” throwing your hands in the air with frustration.

“I’m sorry, I didn't know what I was doing but it just happened Y/N” you don’t believe a single word he said from that sentence. 

“How long has this been going on?” you point to his phone on the bed. 

“Two months.”

Two months ago was the last time you saw him when you visited him. He started acting weird towards you but you brushed it off. You thought him coming home for the summer, he’d act his usual self. Wrong. 

“Fuck you” you shake your head, grab your belongings and walk out.

The drive to your house was filled with tears. You don’t know what you did to deserve this. Everything you’ve done for him was all for nothing. All those memories went down the drain just like your relationship. 

When you walked into your house, your parents turned their heads smiling but quickly went to worry when they saw the tears streaming from your eyes. They never liked seeing you sad or hurt. You explained to them what just happened; they were upset hearing what your ex did. 

“You don’t deserve to be treated like that princess. You deserve to be treated with respect and love. He is a piece of shit and should be ashamed of himself. He lost one amazing young woman” your dad tells you, hugging you tight, rubbing his hand down your back to keep you calm.

“I love you” you whisper.

Your parents have been there for you no matter what the situation may be. You are happy to have the parents who’ve taught you that it’s okay to show emotion and speak about your feelings. 

You walked upstairs to your shower. You needed to wash the negativity off your body. You felt your phone buzz before you entered the shower; your ex texted you trying to apologize and if you two could work things out.

“Fucker” you mutter under your breath, turning the music up higher.

After your twenty minute shower, you changed into clean clothes, and rubbed lotion to smell good. Music plays from your speaker while you comb your hair. The breeze coming through the open window felt so nice.

You feel the random urge to text one of your closest friends, Rafe. He’s always been there for you when you needed it the most. You have known each other ever since you were in diapers. Your parents worked for the same company and have been friends ever since. 

Turning off the blow dryer, grabbed your phone and went to Rafe’s contact.

hey, what are you doing?

Just got out of the pool, you?

everything okay?

can i come over and explain please? i need to see you.

come right now. the door is unlocked.

You liked the message then finished blow drying your hair. You started smiling to yourself of the thought of seeing Rafe. You’ve always thought Rafe was attractive but could never tell him. 

When you arrived at Cameron's home. You walked through the big home being greeted by Rose walking downstairs with papers in her hand, she smiles when she sees you enter. She’s always been like a second mom to you. 

“Y/N, It’s so good to see you. How have you been?” she says as she leans in for a hug. “I’ve been alright thank you, you?” She can sense something up by the tone in your voice but doesn’t want to bring it up. “Busy with work stuff” she smiles.

“Rafe’s up in his room right now if you were wondering” she smiles, you thank her in response.

As you were making your way to Rafe’s room, you could hear the sound of Wheezie’s tv from her room and Sarah on the phone talking to John B. 

You knock on Rafe’s door before entering.

“Come in.”

He’s fresh out of the shower. Hair wet, towel hanging from his hips with his v-line visible. You cover your eyes telling him to put a shirt on. 

“Don’t act like you haven’t seen me shirtless dork, c'mere” rolling his eyes, grabbing your shoulders, hugging you. 

You start crying when you are in his arms. He notices and worry fills his brain. He doesn’t like seeing you like this. He pulls your back gently, lifting your chin up with his pointer finger, looking in your eyes, scanning. 

“He cheated,” you say between sobs.

His face fell down with anger. He never liked your ex and your ex never liked Rafe. Rafe always told you something was off with him and got weird vibes from him, you shrugged it off at the time.

“Let me change then you can explain, yeah?” he walks you to his bed, patting your thigh as he walks to his bathroom. It was obvious he was upset by the way he’s breathing and body language is.  

When he comes back, you explain the situation. He can’t believe what he’s hearing. 

“Are you fucking serious? I’m gonna kill his ass” he said with annoyance. He runs his hands through his hair. you place your hand on his chest, “please Rafe don’t. He isn’t worth it anymore” he looks at you as if you were crazy. 

“Y/N he fucking broke your heart. You deserve so much better than that douche. He lost a beautiful and wonderful girl that he’ll never find, ever” he emphasizes, he stares at you, waiting for your response. 

He thinks I'm beautiful?

“You think I’m beautiful?” you quietly ask, slowly turning your head to the left, making eye contact with him.

“I’ve always thought you were beautiful Y/N” he replies, holding eye contact, waiting for your answer.

You can’t believe you are about to say this.

“I’ve always had some type of feelings towards you Rafe” you quietly speak.

“Same.”

He slowly leans towards you, bringing his right hand to your face, rubbing his thumb against your cheek, you close your eyes at the feeling.

“Can I?” he whispers softly.

Faces are inches closer to each other. Your lips collide passionately. You never thought you’d be in this position right now kissing one of your closest friends. The feeling of his lips against yours felt magical, a feeling you cannot describe.

“I would like to be more than friends with you Y/N.”

“Me too.”

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron x kook!reader #rafe x y/n #rafe cameron x reader #drew starkey #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey x female reader #drew starkey x reader #rafe fanfiction #drew starkey x y/n #obx fic #obx x reader

[steddieasitgoes]

@steddiemas Day 2 Prompt: Winter Sentence Starters

3. Did you know icicles make the perfect murder weapon?

Pairing: Pre-Steddie | wc: 1664 | Rating: T

Read on ao3 | ao3 collection

“Steve?” Eddie asks, squinting into the blinding lights of the familiar burgundy Beamer that’s parked in front of the mound of snow where the driveway usually is. It’s hard to see with the blinding lights and the sunrise bouncing off the bright snow, but Eddie’s pretty sure it’s Steve. He’s the only one who drives a Beamer around these parts of town, that’s for sure.

Sitting up on the outdoor couch, he adjusts the bundle of blankets around his shoulder. His hand fumbles in between the couch cushions until he finds the half-empty box of cigarettes and the lighter he and Wayne keep stashed there “in case of emergencies.” It’s a bit of a chore given the gloves covering his hands, but he gets the job done and brings the lit smoke to his winter-chapped lips. After a slow exhale, he tries again.

“Steve? What the hell are you doing here?”

There’s a clattering on the other side of the Beamer, followed by a string of curses before a figure emerges in the shadows of the lights. “Jesus dude,” Steve gasps. One hand stays pressed against his chest, the other clings to a snow shovel. “What the hell are you doing here? You should be inside it’s freezing out.”

It is freezing out, but there’s not that big of a difference between out here and inside Eddie’s bedroom. Not since the space heater took a shit at 2 am. He tried to fix it, he did. But it’s actually really damn hard to fix a space heater at 2 am when you’ve only slept for an hour because of chronic pain and nightmares and you can’t find the damn toolbox that’s supposed to be tucked away in the closet.

Frustrated beyond belief, Eddie needed a smoke and one thing led to another, and the next thing he knew he was being woken up by the rumbling of Steve’s Beamer. At least he was smart enough to put on gloves and wrap himself in his duvet before coming out here.

“Seriously, man. You’re going to freeze to death.”

“You know the dramatics are my thing,” Eddie teases, wrapping the blanket tighter around himself. “I’ve got a blanket and gloves.” Eddie wiggles his fingers for extra emphasis. “And this head of hair isn’t just for looks. Actually keeps me pretty warm too.”

Steve snorts, absentmindedly tugging on the end of his scarf. “Yeah, okay, man. Whatever you say.”

“So, I ask again,” Eddie says, pausing to exhale another puff of smoke. “What are you doing here at whatever time it is.”

“It’s 5,” Steve supplies, then holds up the snow shovel. “Who do you think shovels the snow around here since you’re out of commission? The snow fairy?”

The smoke in Eddie’s lungs gets trapped as his body tries to laugh and instead, he sends himself into a coughing fit that has him clutching his already aching sides. “First of all fuck you. Don’t joke about fairies!” he says, all bark no bite. “Secondly, I usually shovel the snow, but as you are aware, I’m still not allowed to lift more than two pounds thanks to our wonderful Spring Break adventures.”

“And you’re milking that for all it’s worth.”

Eddie’s quick to flip him the bird, rolling his eyes in the process. “S’Wayne paying you? That old bastard better not be paying you. I never got a dime when he made me shovel.”

“Probably because you always forgot, right?”

“You know what, Steve,” Eddie starts, trying to get up from the couch when a rush of pain races up his torso. Jesus H. Christ, he should be used to this by now. Biting his lip to keep the groan in, he settles himself back on the couch.

“M’just messing with you, Eds,” Steve says, shooting him an apologetic look. If anyone knows the pain he’s going through, it’s Steve. And yet, Steve’s wounds healed in record time, and Eddie’s on month nine of barely being able to make it down the three steps of his trailer. Yet another unfairness the universe has drawn for him.

“I was over helping the Mayfields during the last big storm and saw your uncle struggling to park after his shift. Figured if I’m here helping Max, I could help you guys out too. No big deal.”

Eddie’s not sure what universe Steve lives in, but agreeing to do manual labor for free is a big deal. A massive, big deal, actually. At least, in his universe it is. He doesn’t sign up for any sort of manual labor unless he’s getting paid. Fuck capitalism and all that, but also, you know, it’s only fair to cash in when it benefits him.

“Right, well, m’sure my uncle appreciates it.”

“He does,” Steve nods, resting the shovel on his shoulder. “So, you gonna quit distracting me now so I can get to work?”

Eddie extends one glove-covered hand out in front of him, fanning it out over the mountain of white snow separating them. “The snow is yours, my liege.”

Steve snorts, shaking his head. He takes a few steps away from the Beamer before repositioning the shovel in his hands. In one fluid motion, he drives the shovel the mix of  fresh and packed snow. The metal clatter against the frozen chunks at the bottom but the sound doesn’t drown out the groan that leaves Steve's lips as he hoists a giant pile of snow up and over to the side.

Jesus H. Christ.

Eddie takes an extra long drag from his cigarette, eyes glued to Steve as he does the same thing again. He holds the smoke in his lungs, tries to concentrate on not choking as he watches Steve shovel another massive pile of snow away.

There’s at least twenty feet of distance between them, but Eddie’s eyes are glued to Steve. His pale blue puffy jacket does a lot to obscure his muscles, but Eddie’s always had an overactive imagination. He doesn’t need a clear visual to know that Steve’s biceps are straining every time he hoists the shovel out of the snow. Or the way his back muscles flex, showing off that swimmer's upper body of his.

Steve’s ditched snow pants like most do around here and instead has his trusty pair of blue jeans on. Eddie knows from experience that denim does little to shield the freezing temperatures, but he can’t complain. Not when Steve’s ass is on full display when he squats to investigate what the shovel has just slammed into. (A stray dog toy from two trailers over.)

If he doesn’t look away soon, he’s going to be in trouble. Even the cold as fuck temperature can’t keep the blood from rushing to his dick for long. A blessing and a curse, Eddie supposes.

Taking another drag, Eddie tilts his head so it rests against the headrest of the couch. Exhaling, the plume of smoke and cold air mix, getting whisked away in the early morning breeze. It might actually be colder now than it was at 2 am.

With his head still turned upward, he can hear the rhythmic sounds of Steve shoveling the snow. The clink of the metal shovel with the snow, the scrape as he digs it down to the pavement. The occasional huff of frustration when Steve’s bitten off more than he can chew. Stubborn as always.

If he keeps making noises like that though, Eddie’s going to need a lot more than a smoke and a new direction for his eyes to keep his mind out of the gutter—

Speaking of gutters, they really need to get someone to clear out all the damn icicles clinging to them like damn Christmas trees. One harsh slam of the door and he or Wayne is going to take an icicle straight to the head. A month in a coma, seven months of physical therapy, and one dropped murder charge is not going to go to waste over a goddamn icicle. Not if he can help it at least.

Honestly, out of all of that, he’s still most upset about the murder thing. He won’t even go fishing with Wayne after that one year with the fish who flopped around practically hasping for breath until Wayne stabbed it with his pocket knife. Never again. Eddie prefers his food already cooked and void of eyes thank you very much.

Besides killing someone in his house is way too obvious. An amateur move if he’s ever seen one. He’d at least been more smart about it. If he was going to kill someone, but he’s not. Obviously. But if he was, Eddie’s thoughts trail off as the sun catches on the translucent icicle, washing his body in the warm rays of sunlight.

“You know, icicles would make the perfect murder weapon.”

The sound of the snow shovel clattering to the floor startles him. His head whips in the direction of the noises. It takes a moment a moment for his eyes to adjust to the sudden change in light, but when they do Steve is staring at him, hands on his hips and a frown tugging at his pale lips.

“Maybe don’t joke about murder when we’ve just cleared your name,” Steve scolds, shaking his head. “Or do you want to go back into hiding?”

Eddie’s mouth is faster than his brain, words tumbling out before he has a chance to realize the implications of his words.

“Depends. Would you be hiding me again?”

A sickening silence falls between them as all the blood in Eddie’s body rushes to his cheeks. At least his nose isn’t cold anymore. He’s two seconds away from scampering into the trailer, head slung low in embarrassment when Steve’s unabashed chuckle breaks the silence.

“You can crash at my place anytime, you know.”

No, Eddie did not know that. But now? Now, he thinks that damn space heater isn’t worth bothering Wayne for after all.

#steddiemas #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steddie fan fic #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington ficlet #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson ficlet #dani writes #stranger things #stranger things fic

[wosowrites]

Jessie Fleming (In Front of the Camera part 2)

warnings: none

prompt: in which three months later, you prepare a proposal to jessie during a pre-season promo shoot.

a/n: so so so cute and here’s the ask

You knew you were going to propose to Jessie Fleming when Canada got eliminated in the semi final of the world cup. Germany went through against Sweden, Germany won. You fell to the ground after penalties. Jessie had scored, you had missed. You had missed and then Oberdorf scored and Germany were World Cup finalists.

You had never cried so hard. You felt the weight of the pain of all your teammates on your shoulder and despite them telling you it wasn’t your fault, despite Bev holding your wet face in her hands and begging you to hear her when she said she was proud of you, the only person that got through to you was Jessie.

You were lying down on the middle of the pitch when your girlfriend sat down beside you. Her cheeks were red and wet with tears and her eyes were bloodshot. "I’m-" you started saying, changing your position so that you looked up at Jessie and not at the sky. "Do not apologize. This was not you. We all did little things that made it have to go to pens. Julia missed a basically open net, Chappys clearance wasn’t strong enough and Popp scored, I didn’t put enough pressure at times. Every single person made mistakes. You hear me? Your shot wasn’t bad. It was strong but you got unlucky. I love you. I’ll never stop loving you. I’d love you if you had sent the shot to the moon and I’d love you if you had scored it," she said, her eyes tearing up.

Your nose was running and tears were falling again. Jessie crossed her legs and you moved up so that your head was buried in her jersey. She didn’t even smell bad. She was just Jessie. Always comforting, always perfect. And that’s when you knew it was time to buy a ring for her.

You didn’t sleep that night. You were rooming with your best friend, Vanessa, which you were thankful for because due to the fact that it was her first world cup and not her last, she wasn’t feeling the pain as intensely as some.

"Vanessa?" you said. It was 1:00 am and you would be shocked if she answered. "Oui," she said. You were the two most fluent french speakers on the team and sometimes you spoke french together. "I’m gonna propose to Jessie," you said, looking up at the ceiling. You heard rustling in the bed beside you and suddenly the room was illuminated with light. "WHAT!" she practically yelled, a huge smile on her face. You turned on your side and looked at her, relieved to see a smile on at least one of your teammates faces. "Yeah. I knew when… well i’ve always known I would marry her but I knew it was time on the pitch. After the game when everyone tried to tell me that they loved me and the only person who could get through to me was Jessie," you said with a small smile, now both propped up on your elbow.

"We do all love you, you know. Maybe even more now than before," she said. "I love you, Van. And I want you to help me pick out a ring," you said. "Really! Well- I can’t sleep… can you?" she said. "No. Not at all," you said, letting yourself fall back onto the pillows. "Okay then," she said. And then Vanessa had grabbed her computer and sat down beside you on the bed. She slithered under the covers beside you and you sat up. She typed into the search bar 'jewellers near me' and clicked on a website.

You spent the entire night looking at engagement rings, and although the next morning your eyes were puffy from crying and from the lack of sleep, you had found a ring. It was in your budget and very minimalistic to fit jessie’s liking. A simple silver band with an oval diamond in between two smaller circular diamonds.

The girls that didn’t play in the NWSL were staying in Auckland until even after the third place game but until then they still had football duties. However, Bev had given you all the day off to do your own thing.

You talked to Vanessa in the shower as she did her makeup and skincare. "Okay so were going into groups based on what we want to do. I think it’s breakfast at a cafe with Julia, Jess, Jordyn, you, Niche and Kailen right?" you asked Vanessa through the sound of the shower. "Yeah. And then we’ll make up something to sneak off and go to that jeweler and get the ring!" she said, sounding extremely excited. "I cannot wait," you freaked out, shampooing your hair.

You needed this. Badly. And you were hoping that if you told the girls your plan to propose, they would have something happy to think about other than the World Cup elimination.

"Okay i’m ready, be quick okay?" she said as you got out of the shower with a towel wrapped around yourself.

You agreed and dried off before slipping on the yellow and blue patchwork shorts you had stolen from Jessie. You then put on a black hoodie due to the cooler winter weather, some gold jewelry and then sunnies over your head (also jessie’s). After putting on airforces and nike socks you left the washroom and ushered Vanessa off the bed.

You made your way down to the lobby for 9:00 where all the girls but your girlfriend were. They looked tired, a little down, but overall okay.

"Since when does Jess take the longest to get ready?" you asked Kailen. "Uh she was looking for her blue and yellow shorts. She wanted to wear them- oh. Yeah the shorts you have on right now," she cracked a smile. "Oops-" you said. "Okay well while she’s not here. I need to tell you all something. After breakfast Vanessa and I need to go to this jewelry place-" you took a deep breath "-I’m gonna propose to her. During the pre season photoshoot. Kind of a throwback to when we first went public and i’m gonna get the Chelsea girls to help me," you said with a huge smile.

Julia, Nichelle and Jordan squealed whereas Kailens jaw dropped before she attacked you into a hug. But then the elevator dinged and Jessie walked out.

"Hey baby," you said, walking up to her and going in for a kiss. But before you could kiss her, she put her hand on your shoulder blades and pushed you away, looking down at your-her shorts. "My shorts! Y/n!" she groaned. "I’m sorry!" you said with a small smile, not actually cross with you. She tried to stay mad but she couldn’t. She gave in and kissed you sweetly, her arms around her waist. "You guys are disgusting you’re gonna cut my appetite. Let’s go," Nichelle joked.

Two and a half weeks later.

The ring was chosen. The stage was set. The girl was there. Although you had thought you wanted the help of the Chelsea girls, you decided that you wanted to shock everyone. The photographer, the videographer, the gaffer, everyone. So, only Keish and Ashley knew the morning of. You were all in Chelsea kits, standing on the Cobahm pitch. The pictures of individual players had already been taken and so had the team photo. Now they had asked you, Keish, Jessie, Millie, Sam, AKB and Guro to film a video full of football related transitions to promote the 23/24 chelsea fcw season.

Cameras rolling. You felt the weight of the ring box Ashley had slipped to you a couple minutes earlier. You watched Jessie juggle the ball, the camera on her and then it was your time.

You started walking towards her and into the frame of the video. Your movement catching her off guard made her mess up and the ball went rolling away from her. "What are you doing?" she said to you. "Y/n! You’re not supposed to be in frame right now," the videographer said with a sigh.

But then you had pulled out the box from your pocket and he shut up. Jessie’s jaw dropped and everything went quiet.

Everyone was watching.

The second you were on one knee, Jessie spoke. "Yes!" she basically yelled, making you let out a loud laugh. "Jessie! Let me propose," you told her off. "You don’t have too. Yes. I want to-" she started saying but you cut her off. "Jess. I love you darling but I prepared a whole speech so let me do it!" you laughed, your eyes teary. So were hers.

"I knew I was going to marry you when we were 19. You missed a penalty for UCLA and we lost. You were so so angry at yourself, but man you looked so cute. We kissed for the first time a whole year later, and after that it was just a matter of time for me to know when I would be doing… well… this. Jessie… I missed the most importent penalty of my life and not once did I feel like you were angry at me. I’ve never gone a day without feeling unloved ever since you’ve told me you loved me. And I never want to not feel that feeling again. I want to make myself yours. So… Jessie- baby, can I be your wife?"

"I already said yes! Yes yes yes!" she screamed. "Really?! Oh i love you!" you screamed. You stood up and slipped the ring on her finger. You picked her up and spun her around, her squealing and you still sobbing of joy at the fact that she had said yes. When you finally placed her on the ground she grabbed your face and kissed you quickly.

The clapping, whooping and sobs from some of the more emotional teammates and staff went on for minutes. You hugged every person there. Emma congratulated you and Jessie over and over, Millie had Magda and Pernille on a facetime call. They were both sobbing. "I can’t believe our kids got engaged before us!" Magda cried. "That sounds so wrong Magda," you said, not managing to stop crying no matter how hard you tried. "Whatever! Oh im so happy,"

You left together after finally managing to get back to filming the promo video. Once you sat on your couch at home, it was time to call people.

You called all your Canadian team teammates to let them know that the wedding was on, and then Elysse who was with Logan, Michaele and John Fleming, Tristan Fleming, your whole family, Jessie’s and yours UCLA friends. It took six hours to get through everybody.

"Okay. Phones aside now. Just you and me," Jessie said. You smiled at her and put your phone on the coffee table. "How do you feel?" she asked you. "How do I feel?" you asked in confusion. "Yeah. Any regrets or..?"

"Oh come on Jessie. I feel like i’m engaged to the love of my life. I feel like i’m a World Cup bronze medalist and that life is working out for me right now. The UWCL is ours this year, I feel it. And we’re going to get married… and the next few years are going to be the best few years of our lives," you said, getting away with yourself and already imagining the wedding you would be having, the lift of the trophy.

"I feel the same. But mostly I just feel thankful that you’re all mine," she said, a look of hunger in her eyes. "All yours," you breathed, leaning back on the couch as she placed herself to hover over you. Jessie placed kisses on your neck and then down onto your collarbone. You let a breath out and smiled in content, your hands wandering her waist and then slipping down under the band of her shorts.

"What-" kiss "do-" kiss "-you" kiss "-want" kiss "-for dinner?" kiss. Jessie asked you. "You," you answered simply.

"That can be arranged," she said, slipping her hands over your abs. "Good, because nothing tastes better than you. Especially because I’m about to be your wife," you said, flipping her over and looking into her eyes. You tucked her loose hair behind her ear and attacked her neck, leaving love marks all the way down.

#woso fic #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso #chelsea fcw #jessie fleming #vanessa gilles #canwnt #sam kerr #woso couples

[mouschiwrites]

Hello, I was wondering if you could do like a fic about the future where Lloyd and fem reader are getting married? Please.

Sure thing! I tried to keep descriptions pretty vague so that y'all can imagine your special day however you like. Also some Nya content in here bc we can never have enough of her <333 okay I'll shut up now

Word count: 1k

Ninjago - Your Wedding Day with Lloyd

You leaned in closer to the mirror, turning your head this way and that, scrutinizing every inch of your face. Pursing your lips anxiously, you focused so hard on your own reflection that you didn’t see Nya approaching from behind you.

“Here,” she said, startling you. She placed her fingers under your chin, turning your head so you were face-to-face. She cocked her head as she examined you. Then, with a smile, she plucked a stray eyelash off your cheek. Holding it up to your lips, she waited for you to blow it off.

You puffed, launching the eyelash into obscurity. 

“Did you make a wish?”

You nodded.

“What was it?”

With a coy smirk you turned back to the mirror. “I’ll give you three guesses.”

“Hmm… did you wish that you won’t have a wardrobe malfunction?” She tugged at your clothing, making sure everything was fitting as it should. You remembered going out with her, buying the clothes that you were to be married in. How your heart soared when you saw yourself in them for the first time. If you were flying then, you were floating in space now. With each miniscule adjustment Nya made, your image in the mirror somehow became even more perfect; no, it surpassed perfection. 

“Thanks,” you said as she gave one last tug on the fabric near your waist. “But that wasn’t my wish.”

“Did you wish away your pre-marriage jitters?”

You looked at the ceiling, chewing your cheek thoughtfully as you assessed your own feelings. Your reflexive response was “I don’t have jitters,” but you slowly realized that you did have jitters. The fluttery feeling in your stomach wasn’t just excitement. You were afraid, too.

What if things went wrong? What if you had a wardrobe malfunction, or you tripped while walking down the aisle, or if you accidentally said “I don’t” or—oh. Oh no. What if this was all a mistake? What if you were left at the altar, or abandoned on your honeymoon? What if one of you wanted a divorce after two weeks? A year? Ten years?

The image of your soon-to-be husband flashed in your mind suddenly. The vision of him in his neat tuxedo, smiling, telling you it would all be okay, chased your worries away. Funny how he could comfort you even when he wasn’t in the room. Yes, he was perfect for you. And, as he told you almost too often, you were perfect for him. You two were made for each other; nothing else mattered.

With a sigh, you felt your muscles (which you hadn’t realized were tense) relax. “Didn’t wish for that, either. One more guess.”

“Really? Ooh, I’ve got it!” She placed her head endearingly on your shoulder, making eye contact with your reflection. “You wished for a long and happy marriage.”

You clucked your tongue, shaking your head. “I don’t need to wish for that.”

Nya’s eyes sparkled. You knew she was a sucker for romance; she must’ve been absolutely feasting these past few months. But her obsession with your wedding wasn’t a one-sided relationship; actually, she had proven to be a fantastic planner. There wasn’t one detail she didn’t think of, and she wouldn’t settle for anything less than fairytale-esque sublimity. Without her, this day wouldn’t be the happiest day of your life.

“Humph,” she straightened herself, putting her hands on her hips. “Well then, you’ll have to tell me after your honeymoon. Now come on, I hear the music starting.” She took your hand eagerly and hurried you out of the room.

The aisle was lined with arrangements of your favorite flowers, their scent filling the venue. You felt your cheeks darken as everyone stood, their eyes fixated on you. For a second you were frozen there, bouquet in hand, air trapped in your lungs. You felt a little silly as you realized that these were all your friends, your family, the ones most important to you. The looks in their eyes—proud, overjoyed, a little misty—brought a smile to your face.

You proceeded slowly, the (f/c) petals on the ground getting crushed under your pristine shoes. You weren’t looking at your shoes, though. You looked each guest in the eye as you passed, doing everything you could not to cry as they shot you the most heartfelt looks.

You finally made it to the altar. Lloyd held his hand out. You felt your heart skip a beat when you took it, as if it were the first time you’d touched.

You remembered that day. You remembered the first time you held hands, the first time you kissed, the day he asked you to be his partner—and, more recently, his spouse. 

He looked just as beautiful as the day you met. Thick platinum hair framing his angular face, green eyes brimming with wonder, he was your dream boy. And the way he smiled… Now you were really trying not to cry. He gave your hands a reassuring squeeze as the officiator read his script. You smiled back at him, blinking your tears away and preparing to say your vows.

He was first. “I do.”

The words hung in the air, surely keeping the audience in suspense, but all you felt was bliss as you waited for your chance to echo him. “I do.”

“You may now kiss.”

The audience erupted into applause as your lips crashed together. Your eyebrows jumped high on your forehead when Lloyd surprised you by dipping you low, prolonging the moment.

You broke the kiss, bursting into laughter. You stood there for a few more seconds, holding each other’s faces, laughing, foreheads pressed together. 

As your laughter died down but the audience still hooted and hollered, Lloyd whispered, for your ears only: “I can’t believe how lucky I am. How beautiful you are. I’m going to treasure you forever.”

“As I, you.” You brought your lips together again, delight flowing through you electrically. 

But what about your wish? I wish that this will truly be the happiest day of my life. Well, it’s safe to say that it came true.

Thank you for this wonderful request!! Also, thanks for reading! Take care of yourselves my flowers <33

(divider by saradika)

#ninjago #lego ninjago #ninjago x reader #lloyd garmadon #lloyd ninjago #ninjago lloyd #lloyd garmadon x reader #lloyd x reader

[empressdede]

Remember the time

This is my first time writing something and publicly publishing it. This is based off the Remember the time by Michael Jackson. Pleaseee show some love lol. I do want to say that the OC is a black character but anyone can read. I was inspired to write this because of @raya-hunter01 & @whatdoeseverybodywant Let me know what you guys think!

Pairing: Kiyah (OC) x Jimmy uso. (Theres not enough Jimmy Uso fics on here. I did it for my man.)

Warnings: cursing, smut, smoking, long read.

Bold italics are thoughts, italics are both dialogue during a smut scene and when anything is referenced. Red bold italics are the song lyrics

Word count: 9,581.

Summary: Jimmy comes back to New York after Money In The Bank and Remembers the time he had with Kiyah.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________

An uneasy feeling settled in Jimmy’s stomach ever since he found out that New York was the next arena after Money In The Bank. Being in the city was as the ghost of her was going to trailing over him. It’s been three months since he’s last seen her and he wasn’t healed but it was easier to be away from here. Being here reminded him of everything he used to love to do… with who he loved to do it with.

Do you remember, when we first met girl?

When Covid hit and the whole world was forced to stay quarantined at home, due to being in a really depressive state, Kiyah really isolated herself from everyone. She was in a funk that she desperately wanted to get rid of, and in late 2020 when her favorite cousin Bianca, called her to inform that she was going to be in Tampa, FL for work until further notice, Bianca invited Kiyah to stay with her and Tez. Kiyah packed her bags and caught the first available flight to Florida, leaving her life behind in New York. She attended all the smackdown shows with Bianca, watching how she was really dominating in the women division as a newbie.

Backstage if she wasn’t hanging out with Bianca, she was hanging out with Dawkins and Tez. The wrestlers were actually pretty funny to be around, the girls were nicer than she thought they would be - Well, except for a couple who didn’t really matter - and the guys were funny to be around. She would walk around the halls aimlessly when it became too much to be around and one day, she found herself bumping into Jimmy…. literally.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry.” Kiyah quickly apologized to the person, her eyes slitting up to fixate her gaze on the man she bumped into. His smile took her breath away, damn who was he?

“You good, it was my fault I wasn’t looking where I was going. You okay?” He asked.

Kiyah nodded her head, not trusting her voice at the moment. She knew she would embarrass herself if she stayed in this man’s presence any longer. Clearing her throat, she tries to excuse herself. “Well, I’ll be on my way.”

“Wait…. Are you a new hire? I’ve never seen you before?” Jimmy asked before she could walk away.

“No, I’m Bianca’s cousin. Just here to give my support while I can.” Kiyah replied and Jimmy nodded his head understanding.

“That’s lit. Well, I hope you’re feeling welcomed. I know being around a whole bunch of athletes can be intimidating.”

She let out a small huff of laughter. “Please. You guys eat more junk food than anyone I know. Wings and Pizza every other Wednesday… Really?” She asked teasingly which caused Jimmy to laugh.

“Aye, we work hard. Gotta enjoy ourselves somehow.”

“I bet.”

Jimmy flashed another smile to her, who was this girl? “I never caught your name?” He asked.

“I never gave it. Seeing as you bumped into me, I think it’s only right you introduce yourself first.” Kiyah suggested.

“Could’ve sworn we bumped into each other.”

Kiyah shrugged her shoulders playfully, a small smile eased its way into her face. “I never denied that but enlighten me anyways.”

Jimmy chuckled, raising his hand out to her, “My name is Jimmy, and you are?”

Kiyah reached her hand out to clasp their hands together and shook it. “Kiyah. Kiyah Blair.” She introduced.

Do you remember when we fell in love?

“How long is it going to take you to come over here?” Kiyah asked over the FaceTime call as she continued to clean her room, folding the laundry on her bed. Her best friend Jimmy glanced at the screen to watch her for a quick second before turning his attention back to the road.

“It won’t take me too long, I just gotta make a stop somewhere before I come. Make sure you leave that door unlocked for me; you know I don’t like to wait.” Jimmy instructed.

Kiyah smacked her teeth, dropping the shirt she was folding on the bed and turned to face the screen. “Boy, how you gone tell me what to do with my own shit? Imagine trynna run my house.”

“Imagine playing with my face like you not finna leave the door unlocked for me anyways, know who to play with Kiyah.” Jimmy retorted back to her, not even turning to look at the screen.

And maybe she shouldn’t have thought it but as she continued to stare at her who she considered her best friend drive, she focused on the featured on his face and bit her lip because why did he have to be so damn fine?

After realizing a couple seconds of seconds of silence filled the air, Kiyah smacked her teeth again. “Okay Jimmy whatever. Just hurry up, it’s your turn to cook and I’m hungry.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Lemme go make this quick stop and Imma be over there.” He stated before he quickly hung up the phone.

Kiyah let out a small huff and let herself scan the room before her eyes caught the mirror. Should I change? She thought about it but opted against it, he’d already seen her outfit over FaceTime, so there was no point. Deciding to distract herself from overthinking, she picked up the shirt she had dropped and started folding again to clear her bed. _________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Jimmy walked into the house with his hands full of treats, dropping them on the table. Kiyah walked out the kitchen and her eyes immediately met his, locking eyes with him.

“You just gonna stand there or you gone tell me wassup?” He asked, raising his eyebrow at her with a small grin on his face. Kiyah rolled her eyes before walking to him and they took each other into a strong embrace, rocking back and forth.

“Does that mean you’re not mad at me anymore?” She asked teasingly

“You know I can’t stay mad at you Ma.”

Kiyah’s heart seized at his words, pulling back from the hug, the bags on the table catching her attention making a smile etch its way on her face.

“No way you went to India’s Grill halfway across town, aren’t you on a diet right now? Jey’s gonna have that ass if he finds out you cheating again.”

Jimmy let his head fall as a dramatic groan slipped through his lips. “Jey not gonna know shit if you don’t tell ‘em nothing.”

Jimmy walked passed her to make his way to her living room, walking around as if he paid the bills to her home. He sat down on her couch, placing his feet on her coffee table and one hand behind his head. “You gone snitch on me Ma? After everything we been through?”

Kiyah shook her head as if she was disagreeing but in reality, she was trying to get herself together. Here was Jimmy: in an all black hoodie, no shirt underneath, cuban link peeking through the part that was unzipped, black joggers and all white forces. Fuuucckk, who told him to look this good.

“Now you know I don’t be telling nobody yo damn business” she finally replied as she walked to the door to lock it. Jimmy took that time to roam over the outfit Kiyah seemed to have on.

Itty bitty tight ass spaghetti strap crop top with matching booty shorts to go with it.

“You was expecting someone else to come before me?” He asked, catching her gaze.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I know you ain’t wearing that for David lame ass.”

Kiyah rolled her eyes for the umpteenth time. Jimmy never liked anyone she called herself entertaining, always calling them lame, but she couldn’t be too mad… she kept that same energy with all his other bitches too.

“Please be so serious right now. I wore this for myself.” Kiyah stated, walking to the couch to take her seat next to him. Jimmy let his feet fall from the coffee table, opting to be in his most comfortable position, man spreading. He cut his eyes at her as he rubbed his beard.

“Hmm, for yourself huh?”

“Yes, for myself.”

Licking his lips, he slowly nodded his head in amusement. He pulls a blunt of his pocket and pats his other side for a lighter. “Can you light me up? I think I forgot my lighter in the car.”

Kiyah reached forward for the ashtray that was right next to him on the couch, grabbing the lighter that was settled there from the last time they smoked together. Jimmy raised his arms, wrapping it tight around her body and moved her so that her legs was over his lap making her straddle him.

From that action alone, she knew he was already high. She watched as he placed the blunt in-between his lips and looked up at her waiting for her to light him up. Kiyah squeezed her legs against his and felt her heart clench at the eye contact. She bit her lip, flickering the lighter and leaning back slightly to avoid the smoke to get in her face when she lit him up.

A small smirk formed on his face when he felt her squeeze him, but he said nothing, taking a hit of his blunt instead. “Whatchu nervous for?” He asked, voice low now, blowing the white cloud of smoke towards her teasingly.

“Jimmy…. please stop playing with me.”

“Who said I was playing?” He asked raising an eyebrow, waiting for her response and when she stayed silent, he just chuckled. “Closed mouths don’t get fed you know?”

Kiyah ignored him, taking the blunt from his mouth and placing it in hers; inhaling the strong substance for the courage that she was going to need for this conversation. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Jimmy let his hands start to caress her legs, rubbing them up and down. His brown orbs roaming over her outfit once again, his eyes catching her hardening nipple through her thin ass shirt. “Don’t wear this shit for nobody else, you hear me?”

“Jimmy-” She starts to protest but he cut her off.

“You hear me Kiyah? Don’t wear this shit for nobody else. I’m not playing with you.”

You could cut the tension with a knife, but she didn’t understand how they got here so fast. His hands trailed up, gripping on her ass to push her closer to him making her pussy press against his dick. Kiyah takes a small sharp breath in, one of her hands moving to rest on his shoulders as she locked eyes with him.

A small smirk took over her face now, “who said I was playing?” she replied, placing the blunt back in her mouth to take one last pull. When she leaned back to blow the smoke away from him, his right hand swiftly cupped her jaw, bringing her closer to him parting his lips to inhale the smoke she needed to exhale.

Kiyah’s felt her skin heat up as she shotgun her last hit to him. Her heart felt as if it were to beat out of her chest. Jimmy and her played the game of push and pull. They flirted with each other and got super touchy but that was all that ever happened. They’ve kissed once at a Christmas party, a year ago and they were both drunk off their asses. And even then, nothing compared to the feeling that tonight gave them.

“Jimmy.” Kiyah whispered and Jimmy let his gaze flicker from her lips to her eyes.

“Say it.” Jimmy demanded in a low tone. The octave of his voice dropped so low; Kiyah felt goosebumps form on her skin from just his voice alone. Say it. He said as if he knew what was going through her head.

“Say what?”

“Say it Kiyah…. We both grown. Just say it.”

A million things ran through her mind. Surely, he wasn’t saying what she thought he was saying. Because they’re just friends; always have been… right?

“Jimmy… I-“ she started but was stuck. She tried to push herself from him, she needed space. She couldn’t think being so close to him. Not with his hands on her, or his smell overwhelming her. But his hands held her in place.

“Jimmy, we’re friends-“ she was cut off.

“We ain’t no fuckin’ friends and we haven’t been just friends for a while now.”

“Jimmy that’s not funny” she whispered shaking her head. This has to be a joke, and I’m not laughing. “Whatever joke you’re playing at- “

“I like you Kiyah. No jokes, no pranks no tests. Sober or high it’s all the same. I like you.” Jimmy stated wrapping both arms around her body to lock her in an embrace, he shifted to get comfortable and that caused him to grind against her making a small whimper leave her mouth.

“Say it.” He whispered this time, but she refused. Instead, she leaned forward pushing their lips together to lock their lips in a kiss.

Do you remember, back in the fall. We’d be together all day long.

The phone buzzing consistently was the only thing Kiyah could hear from her sleep. She lets out an annoyed groan. who the hell is calling at this time? She raised from the bed to grab her phone, and answered it without looking at the caller I.D.

“What.” She answered.

“Damn Ma, that’s how you greet me after 3 days of phone tag?” Jimmy’s voice was heard through the phone. And even though it caused butterflies to erupt in her stomach, she was tired.

“Baby… I’m tired. I’ve been having trouble sleeping lately.” Kiyah admitted.

“That’s cause you swear you can’t sleep unless it's on top of me.” He jokingly replies and she lets out a small laugh.

“You’re so warm and cuddly, I feel safe enough with you to go to sleep.” She shyly confesses. “I can’t wait to see you next week.”

“Girl when you see me next week, ain’t finna be no sleeping.”

“Aht Aht, Lemme sleep baby. You know I be sleepy.”

“Well take yo sleepy ass to the door. I had Roman deliver something expensive and I just got the message that it’s outside.”

Kiyah smacked her teeth. “What I tell you about buying me expensive gifts? I just be wanting your love.”

“You my princess, you know I gotta spoil you. Now go open the door and tell Daddy you love him for the gift."

Kiyah slides off the bed to trudge towards the front door. Jimmy has gotten into the habit of buying Kiyah gifts once she starts feeling lonely because he’s unable to be there for work. Last month he had bought her tickets to see her favorite singer, Justin Bieber. She always told him the gifts were unnecessary, but he was stubborn, swore he just wanted to drown her in gifts just to see her smile.

Kiyah slowly opens the door, to be met with Jimmy and his contagious smile which caused her to yell and jump on him. Wrapping her arms around his neck and legs around his waist and she let the tears that she didn’t know were going to fall…fall. Jimmy caught her with one hand around her waist and walked into the house, kicking the door shut with his foot.

“I thought you were coming next week.” She asked tearfully, keeping her face in his neck and tightening her grip on him as if she couldn’t believe he was here.

“I know when you need me. Two nights ago you said you had a horrible night so I came running.”

Kiyah pulled her face back from his neck and placed multiple pecks on his lips. “Thank you, Papa.” She whispered and he chuckled, pecking her lips one more time.

“You know I got you.” He replied, setting down his bag on the floor and walked towards the bedroom. “Now let’s get you some sleep. I know before this you was tossing and turning.” He stated knowingly and Kiyah knew she wasn’t going to fall asleep just yet. Not when her heart was racing with him making his presence known.

“Are you hungry? I made some honey glazed chicken and rice earlier; I can get you some.” She offered, but Jimmy laid her on the mattress, kicking his shoes off and slid in right beside her.

“How bout we just relax. You know you tired, stop fighting yo sleep and lay down.” And it wasn’t a suggestion. He pulled his shirt over his head and threw it blindly behind him, grabbing kiyah and pull her on top of him and wrapped one arm around her and his other hand grasping her leg to move it up so it was over his waist. “When we wake up later, it’ll be just us and you can feed me all you want.”

Kiyah presses a kiss to his chest where his heart was located. “I love you.” She whispered before settling herself on him, cheek pressed against his chest as she closed her eyes to try to fall asleep.

“I love you too Mama.” He murmured softly, rubbing the hand that was behind her back to help her fall asleep.

___________________________________________

When Kiyah woke up, it was due to the slight heavy movement on top of her. Her body felt rejuvenated from the almost 10 hours of sleep she had seemed to have gotten. Lifting her hand to rub her eyes to wipe the sleep from her eyes before she slowly opened them, looking down to see that Jimmy flipped their positions, his head positioned on top of her breasts and his arm sprawled across her stomach.

She blinked a few more times to make sure she wasn’t tripping, but sure enough the events of last night flooded her mind and it reminded her that she wasn’t just imagining the scene that took place in front of her. Kiyah absentmindedly raised her hand to rub the arm that was laying across her stomach. Even though he was here just for the night, she can smell already smell his scent overpowering her space. Dark. Earthy. Cedar wood. The heat emanating from him brought comfort to her.

I could wake up like this for the rest of my life. She thought to herself. The light coming from the Windows showed that it wasn’t too early in the morning, if she had to guess it was around 10 in the morning. Shutting her eyes, she took in the moment of him being home. There were days when she would try to self-sabotage her blessings and push Jimmy as far away from her as she could, but he always fought for her. Always. For these past three years it’s been Jimmy and Kiyah, never just Jimmy and never Just Kiyah. It made her very appreciative of him being in her life. She’s never been loved the way Jimmy loved her, and it scared her because she loved just as hard as he did… maybe even more so.

While she continued to trail her hand against his skin, Kiyah was slowly falling back asleep in this solace of her bedroom. She felt Jimmy shift from her chest to nestle his face in her neck to get more comfortable and they both drifted back to sleep.

Another hour went by before a loud ringing blared throughout the room, jolting her awake. Jimmy let out a tired groan, tightening his grip around her.

“Jimmy.” She whispered. He shook his head refusing to wake up, just to answer the phone.

He lazily moved his arm from across her to grab his phone from his back pocket and handed it to her. “Put it on silent mode and go back to sleep.”

Kiyah softly chuckled, taking his phone and placing it on silent mode. “I’m up baby. I know you’re jet lagged so I’m going to let you sleep.” Jimmy let out another groan when Kiyah tried to slide out of the bed.

“C’mon baby. Just stay for a little bit.” He begged.

“I gotta pee. I’ll be back.” She comprises and he smack his lips letting her go.

——————————————————————————

The soft tune of Nothing can come between us by Sade was heard throughout the kitchen and Kiyah bumped her head softly to the beat and sang as softly as she could while whisking the the eggs she was preparing.

“In the middle of the madness, when the time is running out and you’re left alone. All I want is you to know that… it’s strong still can’t pull us apart. Nothing can come, nothing can come, nothing can come between us.” Kiyah softly sang, moving her hips to the melody of the music.

The knock on her door was loud, making her head snap up to look towards the door. Jimmy quickly came from around the corner where her room was, heading towards it.

“Don’t move, Imma answer it.” He said unlocking and opening the door revealing Bianca. “Wassup B.” He greeted, stepping to the side to let her in.

Bianca was shocked to see Jimmy at her cousin’s house. She took notice that he had not only made himself comfortable enough to answer the door but that he was wearing the same same clothes he left the airport in. So, this was the business he had to take care of in New York? She thought to herself before flashing him a knowing smile. “Hey Jimmy – I see you’re here early.” She teased as she stepped in and walked pass him.

He just chuckled and shook his head, closing the door back and locking it. “Yeah I Had a couple things to take care of.”

Bianca watched Jimmy walk away, eyes following him until he disappeared into the room. With amusement shining in her eyes, her head snapped towards the kitchen and Kiyah was standing there smiling; looking all innocent when she was clearly guilty.

“Hey Bianca, I totally forgot we had plans today. How you doing?”

Bianca raised her eyebrow at her and a smiled etched its way on her face again. “Well good morning to you. It smells so good in this bitch. Anyways – are you gonna spill the tea or what? Cause it looks like Jimmy ‘he’s just my best friend’ Uso spent the night and now you up making him breakfast when we had plans to go to brunch.” She asked, taking a seat at the kitchen island.

Kiyah snorted and turned back around to pour the eggs in the nonstick skillet. “You’re so damn nosey.”

“I’m even nosier when I’m realizing he went to your room instead of the guest room.” Bianca replied.

Kiyah shrugged her shoulders as a response, scrambling the eggs in front of her. She thought about how these past four months has changed the dynamic between her and Jimmy after his confession in her living room. The transition from friend to lover was easier than she thought it would’ve been.

“Baby.” Jimmy called out, walking out the room with a hoodie and some shoes. “I’m finna be back real quick.” He said as he entered the kitchen.

“Where are you going?” Kiyah asked, turning her head to look up at him.

“I’m out of gars so I’m finna hit up the closest gas station. Imma call Jey back since he been blowing my shit up. I know you guys haven’t seen each other in a while so I want y’all to catch up.”

“But I’m making breakfast for you.” Kiyah acknowledges, sliding the skillet off the stove top.

Jimmy chuckles, pressing his chest against her back. He places his hands on her waist as he watches over her what she made. French toast on two sets of plates on one side of the stove and the freshly scrambled eggs being served next to it.

“Make B something to eat and I’ll be back so we can eat okay.” He suggests, turning her around to wrap his arms around her waist fully, hand gripping on her ass as he leans down to softly peck her lips twice.

“Alright. Hurry back, okay?” She asks, keeping her voice low, raising her hands to caress his arms. “I don’t want your food to be cold and nasty when you eat it.”

“I’ll be right back I promise.” Jimmy pecks her lip one last time before pulling himself away from her to walk out the kitchen. “See you later B.” He calls out as exits the house.

The entire time, Bianca had sat in her seat shocked to her core. She watched the interaction closely, taking notes left and right and her tea cup was damn near full at this point. She waited for the door to fully shut before scoffing in disbelief. “Bitch since when do y’all kiss now? Since when the hell did y’all start calling each other baby? What in the world have I missed?” She yelled dramatically, throwing her hands up in the air to emphasize her point.

“Giirrrrllllluuuuhhhhh” Kiyah dragged out, chuckling. “Back in October Jimmy admitted his feelings for me.” She finally confessed, the smile on her face widening as she remembered that night.

“OCTOBER OF LAST YEAR!? BITCH ITS MARCH.” Bianca screamed; eyes so wide it would’ve fell out of her socket if it could’ve.

Kiyah shrugged her shoulder “The titles changed but nothing’s really different, that’s why I never cared to say anything. We’re still the same.”

“Yeah, except now you are getting Jimmy schlong every other night.” Bianca exclaimed.

Kiyah rolled her eyes, “Girl please, I wish. But we have kept it private but not a secret ya know? That’s my man for real and I’m so in love with him, it’s kinda sick.”

“I think it’s cute. A couple years ago you were scared to even put your heart on the line and now look at you.” Bianca really felt her heart swell with joy as she watched her cousin obviously head over heels in love with Jimmy Uso. “I’m happy for you- the both of you, truly.”

Kiyah turned the stove off and walked around the kitchen island to pull her cousin into an embrace. “Thank you B. I really appreciate it.” She stated and she meant it. There are few people who actually knew what went down between her and her ex, what she experienced and what made her so closed off after it; Bianca being one of those few people. It meant a lot to see that she was also able to see the growth when it came to her love life.

“And I love you girl, I really do but once Jimmy get back from smoking, I’m finna feed my man and spend my entire day with him. So about brunch…. Imma have to take a rain check.” She smiled at Bianca’s laugh.

“Alright bitch, I can read the room.”

———————————————————————

After Jimmy had returned from his trip, Kiyah had served breakfast. It brought a different kind of feeling watching him eat her food. In the furthest part of her mind, it made the moment more domestic, made her feel like one day -further down the line of course- that she could do this as his wife.

After breakfast, Jimmy insisted that he clean up the kitchen while she shower. What he really needed was the opportunity to distract her. Jimmy turned the volume up on Alexa, letting the sound of Neat by Q Money take over the silence in the house while he made his way to the coat closet where he had hid what he had returned to the house with.

Opening the coat closet, he pulls out a couple bags filled with what he wanted to do for the rest of day. Jimmy really wanted to treat Kiyah to a night out but he didn’t want to be out today, he just wanted to spend his day as lazily as he could where he found comfort the most. Closing the door, he took the bags and walked to the living room to get started on what he had planned; with Kiyah in the shower he knew he had a cool 45 minutes.

He unpacked everything that came in boxes: the air mattress, the LED tea light candles, the fairy lights, the fake rose petals and got to work with setting up the living room.

After setting up as fast as he could, he walked into her room, his eyes scanning the room looking for a suspiciously quiet Kiyah. “Babe.” He called out, walking towards the bathroom. He catches a glimpse of her doing her face routine, one of his old shirts engulfing her body. “Didn’t you say you never seen where this shirt went?” He asked teasingly as he walks up behind her.

“I have no idea what you talking about, this my shirt.” Kiyah replied, her lips twitched as she tried to fight the smile that wanted to imprint its way on her face.

Jimmy playfully rolled his eyes, “yeah whatever. You gone have to run me most of my shit sooner than later, unless you wanna send me back on the road with nothing to wear.”

Kiyah scoffed, keeping her eyes in the mirror when she looked at him. “Keep playing. If you wanna be outside I can be outside too. “

“You can be outside, Ian worried about shit. I can fight.” Jimmy stated, shrugging his shoulders.

“You say that now, but we all know if I’m in another nigga arms you gone be sick.” Kiyah countered back turning to face him with a small smirk, “You know you love you some me.”

Jimmy watched her with amusement in his eyes, watch her stick her tongue out at him as childishly as she could before turning back to finish applying the clay mask that was in her hands. “Girl please, you damn near passed out when you thought I was entertaining Sasha. I ain’t the only one.” He exposed, laughing when Kiyah’s jaw dropped.

He pulled off his shirt, turning to turn the shower on. “Wanna wash my hair after I’m done with my shower?”

“Can I give you a face mask if I do?” She asked with hopeful eyes when she fully turned around to face him again. Jimmy let out a small chuckle, nodding his head, agreeing with whatever made her heart content at the moment.

Kiyah didn’t want to show how much she missed being around him, but she was finding it difficult to stay away from him. And it wasn’t like he made it easier for her. Like when Jimmy started his shower, she opted to leave the bathroom to finish getting dressed but, Jimmy requested her to stay to keep him company. Sitting on the toilet waiting for her mask to dry while he showered and they both conversed brought back that feeling she was feeling earlier. Domestic.

In her mind she knew it was too early to be thinking these kinds of thoughts but, she’s had feelings for him for two years now, and she couldn’t really remember when she last felt like this. Doesn’t remember the last time anyone ever made her feel so secure.

After washing his hair and keeping his hair wrapped in a towel for it to dry, Kiyah prepared everything she needed to get started on his face. “Just sit still because if you laugh it’s gonna crack.” She warned, and Jimmy smacked his lips.

“This like yo third warning.”

“Because you play too much, I couldn’t even get you to cleanse your face without you playing with the water. Now sit.” She demanded, hands pressing against his shoulders to force him to sit on the toilet so she can apply the mask. He moved freely, letting her push him to sit.

Jimmy let himself relax, closing his eyes and let Kiyah go to work. He didn’t really care for the process of what came with what Kiyah swore was the best skin routine for both him and her. He just wanted to be close to her, the last time they seen each other was almost three weeks ago – almost a month – and he just wanted to be away from the white noise and relish in the quiet refuge that was her home.

Kiyah delicately stroked the brush filled with the clay over his skin as they both fell into a comfortable silence. Nobody else but you by Trey Songz softly playing in the background from the Alexa that was outside and Jimmy couldn’t help but find himself agreeing with the song that seemed to set the mood. He really didn’t want nothing but to be here, with her, didn’t want nobody else but Kiyah.

Jimmy pulled Kiyah closer to him, using his legs to part her legs so that both legs her on each side of his. His hand gripped her waist as he pulled her to take a on his lap. There we go, Jimmy thought once she was seated, fully wrapping his arms around her.

Kiyah continued to apply the mask, the smile she fought to keep off her face grew anyway. It was moments like this where she felt like the luckiest woman in the world. She found someone who was on her just as bad as she was on them. Before she met him, she never thought she would ever meet someone like her, someone who wanted to be around her, touch her, almost all the time. And maybe their time apart played a big role in their affection with each other but Kiyah wouldn’t trade this, wouldn’t trade him, for nothing.

Watching him fully relax under his touch made her heart swell with joy, smiling she leaned down to peck his lips which caused him to open his eyes and softly smile at her. “What you up to?” He playfully asked and she shrugged her shoulders.

“Nothing, I love you.”

“I love you too mama.” He replied without missing a beat, searching her eyes as she stared at him. He leaned up to steal another kiss from her.”How long all this gone take?”

Kiyah placed down everything in her hands on the sink beside her when she finished covering his face with the mask. “We wait 15 minutes for it to dry and then you’re done.”

Jimmy nodded his head, letting his hands start to rub against her legs. “Jey been complaining about how he never see me anymore.” He randomly stated and Kiyah chuckled.

“I don’t blame him, I bet he miss his twin. You guys hung out every time you were off.” Kiyah responded back, letting her hands rub against his chest. “You know you can go to ATL and spend the time with him down there. You know I don’t mind.”

Jimmy let out a small hum, but going to ATL to spend time with his brother wasn’t the problem. It was him wanting to take her with him so that everyone in his life could finally see who’s been taking all of his time. “Would you come with me?” He asked quietly.

“I would go anywhere with you.” She answered and she meant it. Jimmy could ask her to go anywhere and she would go, he was home to her.

Jimmy didn’t signify an answer to her response. He just let his hands trail up from her waist caressing her skin.

“Jimmy.” Her tone came off as her warning him not to start anything.

“Next weekend, He’s throwing a barbecue and our family will be there.” He said, ignoring her warning. “Will you come with me?” He asked.

Kiyah felt her heartbeat pick up. Will you come meet my family? That’s essentially what he is asking her. Yes, she’s already met his brother and yes, she already met Roman – when she spent her time at the Thunderdome arena and they wanted to get to know each other better it required her being around his family. This invite though… it really sounded like will you come meet my parents?

“You want me to meet your mom?” Kiyah asked in a whisper, leaning her body closer to him for a comfort she’s sure they both needed. “You want me to fix your plate in front of everybody to let ‘em know you my man?” She asked playfully.

It eased the nervousness out him, he chuckled and leaned forward to peck her lips. “I wanna show you off to the whole world. I know we ain’t tell nobody yet but I want to. Tell our families anyways.” He answered back to her, shrugging a little.

“I kissed you in front of Bianca on purpose. Wanna show all of ‘em I only want you to fix my plate.” He replied jokingly. His tone softened though as he spoke, his hands trailing up her shirt, rubbing up and down against her back. “I know you ain’t used to the family introductions and all that, but if we’re doing firsts – I wanna experience all of that with you.” He confessed.

Kiyah didn’t reply, she just watched him. Taking in the moment. Here they were, in each others arms, Jimmy’s hair wrapped up in a towel, Clay mask drying on his face while he confessed that he didn’t want to keep their romance a secret from the people who mattered most in their lives.

Could I be any more in love with him? “I’ll meet your parents papa, you can tell the whole world how we locked in, clocked in for the long run.” Despite telling Jimmy not to move his face as much, she couldn’t help but lean in to lock their lips together. Wrapping her arms around his neck as Jimmy deepen the kiss. Kiyah pulled away before they got too carried away.

“Hold on.” She whispered. She reached over on the counter to grab the rag she had placed on the counter. She dipped it in the bowl that had warm water in it now and moved to clean up what she started.

She cleaned his face as gently as she could, throwing the rag in the sink for now and unwrapping the towel from his head. Kiyah was killing two birds with one stone. She took pride in taking care of Jimmy, and this gave her the chance to do so but she was also trying to speed up the process of getting him in her room.

Jimmy let his hands move from her back to her stomach, trailing slowly towards her breasts before he gripped them; fingers tweaking at her nipples.

Kiyah let out a small moan, letting her head fall back from the pleasure. Jimmy leaned up started placing butterfly kisses upon her neck, locating her sweet spot immediately and closing his mouth to suck on it.

“Fucckk.” Kiyah moaned out, bucking her hips against his. Jimmy’s hands, continued to tweak and pull at her nipples before he let one hand slid down to rub against her covered clit.

“This what you was looking for right?” He asked huskily in her ear. Kiyah felt herself shiver at his tone.

Jimmy pressed his thumb against her clit, rubbing it through her panties, feeling it get soaked with her essence. His other hand left her breast to wrap around her neck. “Look at me, this what you wanted right?” He repeated.

Kiyah forced herself to lock eyes with Jimmy. “Yes” she breathed out as an answer.

Jimmy pulled her in by her neck to kiss her once again. Locking their lips in a passionate kiss, Kiyah bucked her hips against his hand to cause more friction.

He pushed her panties to the side to push two fingers inside of her, groaning into her mouth at how tight and wet she felt. Kiyah let out a gasp when she felt the sudden intrusion, throwing her head back again. Jimmy’s fingers thrusted in and out of her in a slow place causing her to rock her hips against his hands.

“Look at you.” Jimmy cooed as he picked up the pace of his fingers, curling it to touch her g-spot.

“Fuck Daddy, you finna make me cum.” She cried out, eyes rolled to the back of her head. She kept clenching herself around his fingers but he was relentless… he continued to pump his fingers in and out of her.

“Look at me.” He demanded and Kiyah couldn’t bring herself to it, moans slipping out her mouth uncontrollably as she felt a tightening feeling in her stomach.

Jimmy cupped her jaw, forcing her to lift her head and lock eyes. “I want the last thing you see before you cum is me.” He told her, he wanted to watch her love faces as she reached her climax.

“Jimmy please.” She pleaded.

She watched as his darkened eyes as he felt her clench against his fingers again. “Watch me make you cum.” He whispered, picking up the pace of his fingers. “That’s it baby, cum for daddy.”

Kiyah’s eyes rolled to the back of her head and her mouth dropped open as she let out a drawn moan, body shaking as she let herself go cumming all over his fingers. Whimpering as he slowed down to help her ride out her orgasm.

Once she was able to collect herself, he slowly pulled his fingers out of her, flashing her a smile. “You so sexy.”

She just searched his eyes, did this man really have the audacity to smile innocently at her like he didn’t just snatch her up?

He stared at her while he placed both fingers in his mouth, sucking her juices off his fingers. He pulled his fingers out of his mouth and leaned down to kiss her, sliding his tongue in her mouth so she could taste herself.

When he felt her try to deepen the kiss, Jimmy pulled back. “Come outside, I got something I wanna show you.”

It took some convincing to get Kiyah to move from the bathroom to go outside. Kiyah just wanted to jump his bones but he really wanted to show her what he originally had planned for the both of them for the day. And even though it took some convincing, his efforts were not in vain because once she say the living room set up she felt her eyes water.

“Jimmy” she breathed out, her breath hitching in her throat as she took everything in. Jimmy smiled at her reaction, he knew it wasn’t much but he was glad it made her happy. She wrapped her hands around his neck to hug him. She was grateful. “Let me show you how thankful I am daddy.” She whispered in his ear.

Do you remember, those special times? They’ll just go on and on in the back of my mind

Jimmy knew ever since he arrived to ATL that this was where he was going to be. Kiyah really showed out for him, and he wanted nothing more than to push her dress up and bury his face in her pussy. She’s been giving for these past couple of days, and last night on the way to ATL he fell asleep on the flight and woke up to his dick in her throat an hour into the flight and assured him that he didn’t have to do anything in return. I just wanna please you. She had stated in a sultry whisper.

She took him out on a date this morning, insisting that she gets to spoil him as much as he spoils her. They went to waffle House for breakfast, and then went to the aquarium right after. She’s been showing the fuck out in Jimmy… He was going to show her his gratitude, no matter where they were at. After he seen her interaction with his family, how his mother fell in love with her almost immediately and how she stayed in the kitchen to help prep the food, even if she didn’t know what was being made… yeah. He knew he was going to be here.

In between her legs with his arms locked around her thighs and his tongue buried inside of her. Kiyah kept her back in a deep arch, eyes rolled to the back of her head with her mouth gaped open but no sound came from her. He had her in a guest bathroom in his brothers house, and she really didn’t want to get caught.

“Fuck, Jimmy.” Kiyah hissed, making him groan against her and wiggle his tongue inside of her, sliding it out of her to swirl it around her pussy to lap up all of her juices. He licked all the way to her clit, sucking on while grazing his tongue against it.

“Daddy” She moaned out, looking down to watch him devour her, moving her hips to grind her pussy against his tongue. Jimmy flattened his tongue against her clit when he felt her moving her hips, letting her do some of the work. His eyes moving to stare at her and winked on their eyes locked.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Daddy you finna make me cum.” And at that warning, he closed his mouth around her clit again and sucked. He let out a moan, the vibrations sending a euphoric sensation throughout her body. Jimmy tightened his grip on her thighs to keep her in place. Kiyah let out a moan, letting her head fall back as her stomach tightened. “I’m cumming.” She announced as she spilled all into his mouth, panting heavily. Her lower body shook as her orgasm washed through her and Jimmy made sure to catch every drop.

He raised to his feet, hand wrapping around her neck as he drew her in to smash their lips together to lock their lips in a slow sloppy kiss.

“Damn Papa.” She whispered against his lips as she tried to catch her breath and he smirked.

“I’m not done with you yet.” He told her, pulling his pants down so that she could free himself. Kiyah watched Jimmy stroke himself, precum leaking from the tip and she felt herself clench around nothing.

“There’s an entire party going on outside.” Kiyah whispered as if trying to get him to stop but Jimmy wasn’t hearing none of that.

“I don’t give a fuck, I’m boutta fuck you up for real.” He replied pulling her off the sink counter to face the mirror. “And you gone watch me do it.” He whispered huskily in her ear.

Kiyah barely had time to grip onto the sink counter before Jimmy pushed himself into her, curses left both of their mouths as he pushed until their was nothing to push left. Both of them to moan out at the feeling.

“Eyes on the mirror the whole time ma.” He whispered in her ear, causing Kiyah to shiver.

Jimmy stayed still for a second, being raw inside of Kiyah made him want to ruin her life, and if the circumstances were different he totally would’ve.

He placed both hands on her hips and pulling out and thrusting back inside of her, pushing just as deep as he went the first time, every time he slid back in her. Kiyah’s head flew back as moans poured from her mouth.

Jimmy watching her through the mirror, seeing how wreck she looked before he even really got started and an evil smirk spread across his face. One hand moved to grip on her breast, pulling it out of the dress and his other hand found its way to her neck. “What I tell you princess?”

“I-“ Kiyah gasped out, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as he fucked her harder and harder. Her manicured hand moved up to grip onto the wrist of the hand that was wrapped around her neck. It was as if Jimmy was fucking her like he was angry.

“Yesss baby, just like that.” She moaned out.

Watching her love faces always did something to him, he swiftly moved to the left a little to hit her g spot causing Kiyah to let out a loud moan. Jimmy dropped the breast that he was holding and raised his hand to clap it against her mouth. “You know you’re supposed to be quiet, but here you are trynna let the whole world know how much you love this dick.”

His words caused Kiyah to clench around around him tightly, squeezing her eyes shut. Jimmy chuckled deeply. “C’mon Mama, let Daddy in so I can fuck you up.”

He continued to poke at her spot over and over again, making Kiyah moan loudly into his hands. He forced her head back up to face the mirror so she could watch. Tears ran down her face at the intense feeling of him fucking the shit out of her. “You look so pretty like this.” He cooed.

He sped up and only stopped a few couple strokes to really press himself against her spot. “Open ya mouth for me Mama.” He demanded.

Kiyah immediately let her mouth drop open, he stuck two fingers in her mouth. “Suck it.”

Kiyah closed her mouth back around his fingers, humming in pleasure when she mimicked her actions from earlier. She sucked his fingers, her tongue twirling against them and sucked hard. Jimmy felt his dick twitch inside of her, he would ruin her right here and be content with that.

“Keep yo eyes on the mirror, and if they move, I’m not gone let you cum.” He warned. Kiyah felt her body shiver, keeping her eyes on his through the mirror.

Jimmy pulled his fingers out of her mouth and placed them on her clit, rubbing them quickly as he started picking his thrust back up.

The motive to be discreet flew out the window, Kiyah moaning loudly, gripping the counter until her knuckled turned white. “You finna make me cum again.” She cried out.

Jimmy let go of her neck to grip on her braids to make sure her heads positioned the way he wanted it to be. He could feel her walls clench and unclench around him. “That’s a good girl, look at you take all of it.”

“Please don’t stop, I’m right there baby. Oh my fuck.” She cried as he fucked her harder. “Don’t stop daddy, please don’t stop, you’re gonna make me cum.” She begged, watching more tears fall her eyes.

Jimmy let out a grunt, “Daddy gone make that pretty pussy cum every single time.” He affirmed, rubbing her clit in circles. “Gimme that shit baby.” And Kiyah’s upper body stilled as her lower body shook, releasing herself all over him squirting a little.

“Yesssss” She hissed out and Jimmy had to pull out as quickly as he could, nutting on ass.

Wrapping his arms around her, Jimmy let himself drop his weight on her a little.

“Fuck.” He groaned out, pressing a kiss against the back of her neck. “You keep spoiling me like that Ma and I swear Imma keep you cummin’ like that every single time.” He promised.

And Girl, No matter what was said

“Kiyah I just didn’t wanna be rude to her. You know that with my status.” Jimmy argued

“And Jimmy, all that shit was cool when we were friends. But to do that shit in front of my face? Are you fucking serious? Then the bitch gone have the audacity to laugh at me like she did something.”

“Kiyah.” He started but she cut him off.

"No. You keep giving these bitches a reason to laugh at me like I’m some goofy bitch all cause you wanna be so damn friendly." Kiyah stressed

"Being friendly comes with the job Kiyah! Damn, every time I come in this bitch, you in my ear stressing me the fuck out don’t nobody wanna hear that. Can you at least appreciate that I even come in? I don’t gotta be here Kiyah.” He snapped and she nodded her head at him.

“You know what Jimmy? Since you don’t gotta be here, just stop showing up. Since I stress you out so fucking much, forget I even said anything. I’m sick of this shit, I’m done. You definitely don’t gotta worry about me no more.” Kiyah retorted back.

It was supposed to be a good night for the two, they were both leaving the arena when they bumped into a couple fans who just wanted some pictures. It was fine until it wasn’t. What he thought was being friendly was borderline flirting to these girls, they’d take whatever he’d give them and run a mile with. It was fine until he thought it was okay to let the fan touch for way longer than what was appropriate.

“You’re too damn insecure Kiyah when the fuck you gone wake up and realize that? That’s the reason why these other dudes treated you like trash, and you got so much damn baggage that nobody wants to deal with!” Jimmy snapped but the second he said it, he regretted it.

Kiyah froze, his words ringing in her head. Baggage. She had too much baggage.

“Kiyah I didn’t mean that.” He whispered but she sent a watery smile in his direction.

“You know what? Don’t worry about it, from now on you won’t have to worry about me or my baggage.”

And she turned around and left. Jimmy felt his heart break as she walked but his stubbornness is what kept her from chasing her. Unbeknownst to him, that would be the last time he seen her.

I will never forget what we had, my baby.

All the memories of his time in New York came back to him as he drove to the garden arena. He remembered when told him her feelings drunk off her ass after the Christmas party.

He remembers, her home made cooking every time he visited or any time she visited him. He remembers taking care of her when she caught covid.

She was a crying mess when her test came back positive. She did what she did best and isolate herself away from people. Pushing Jimmy away and booked her own hotel so that she wouldn’t pass it on to Bianca and Tez. And at first Jimmy thought she only isolated from him, but when Tez came and asked if he’d heard from Kiyah, he realized she was isolating herself from everyone.

He remembers asking Bianca if she knew what hotel Kiyah had checked into and he remembers bribing the concierge to tell him what her room number was. He remembers pushing himself through the hotel door when she tried to shut the door in his face.

“Jimmy I’m sick, I have covid.” She stressed, moving away from him as fast as she could.

“Kiyah” He whispered when he took in the scene in front of him. She was hurting and she didn’t want to tell anybody.

“You have to get out!”

“Kiyah, I haven’t heard from you in damn near three weeks. What’s going on?” He asked, concern laced in his voice

“I’m sick; that’s what’s going on. Now if you could please leave, I don’t want you to get sick.”

"No. Kiyah you need to stop pushing people away because you’re scared to show people the ugly side of you.”

He remembers Kiyah crying in his arms that night because she finally felt like someone cared for her.

He remembers the first time he told her ‘I love you’. She cried, and told him she was scared to say it back because every time she did, it was for nothing. And He never rushed her to say it back.

He remembers her confessing her love back to him not even a week later because she really couldn’t hold it in. She’s been feeling him for a long time and she refused to keep her feelings to herself any longer. Jimmy remembers everything, and boy did it hurt to.

Do you remember (I bet you remember)

An uneasy feeling settled in Jimmy’s stomach ever since he found out that New York was the next arena after Money In The Bank. Being in the city was as the ghost of her was going to trailing over him. It’s been three months since he’s last seen her and he wasn’t healed but it was easier to be away from here. Being here reminded him of everything he used to love to do… with who he loved to do it with.

Jimmy let out a sigh as he sat in the bloodline locker room. Even though they were split, They requested to still share the same locker room. It’s quiet, he’s not telling any jokes and he’s getting tired of the worried look’s being shared between his brothers.

“Uce, I’m fine. It’s just one night. It won’t kill me.” Jimmy huffed out and Jey shrugged.

“I wanna believe you Uce, but you been walking around like a sad puppy ever since we landed. Why don’t you just call her?” Jey suggested and Solo nodded, agreeing with his older brother.

“She told me I wouldn’t hear from her again and she meant that shit.” Jimmy sighed. “I can’t just pop up ya know? I wanna respect her and her space.”

Before Jey could reply, a knock was heard on the door. The silence after the knock is what had them confused. Solo moved to answer the door but Jimmy raised his hand to stop him. They didn’t know who that was. The knocking happened again.

“Who is it?” Jey called out and the voice that answered back made Jimmy’s blood run cold.

“It’s me.” Kiyah’s voice was heard through the door.

Jimmy stood up slowly and walked towards the door and he held his breath as he opened the door. “Kiyah.” He breathed out and she flashed a small smile towards him.

“Hi.”

#jimmy uso #jimmy uso x reader #wwe #black reader #the bloodline #solo sikoa #jey uso