#and it was like 40 out so I could wear this but I needed tights by the time it got dark | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

c0llisiion · 3 months

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NEED TO KNOW — j.jk

★Pairing: jeon jungkook + f!reader

★genre: smut

★: older!jk, dads bestfriend!jk , oral (giving and receiving ) , unprotected sex , reader has a crush on jk, bachelor!jk, big dick jk, size kink kinda, hair pulling, gagging, slapping, pervert jk , dry humping , anal play , degradation, name calling, nicknames - lmk if i missed any!

★W/C: 4,395

A/N: remember that time I mentioned a jk fic that i was writing? This is that fic. Literally put this on hold for 2 months and finished writing it last night 😭 anyways enjoy!!

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ MDNI. Please refrain from reading if the topics make you uncomfortable. ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

“But i dont wannnnaaaaa goooooo!..” you whined as you declined your dad’s offer to go to his big company party. “Sweetheart this is a huge deal for me …” your dad countered. “… more over, mr.jeon is going to be there ..!” Your ears perked up at the mention of Mr. Jeon. The tall, tatted bachelor with his piercings and built body, who has been your dad’s best friend since his college days.

Since you were a teenager, you have had the biggest crush on him. He was perfect in every way. He was older. More wiser. Handsome. Just your type. The initial infatuation was small, but as you grew into your adult years, it grew stronger.

You were starting to dream about him. Not even the usual kind. Wet dreams.

He grew older like fine wine. Body covered in beautiful art. Built like an actual Greek god.

Surprisingly, he was not yet married, even though he was well off in his late 40s. He used to say 'no woman has ever caught my attention' when someone mentioned him still being single at his age—from what you've heard.

Your dad and him, being business partners, frequently bring him to your home. Always hanging out at the bar or in your dad’s study. You capitalized on these small visits and began attempting to attract his attention. Whenever he came over, you started hanging out at the bar. Offering to make him special drinks. Talking about his interests , which you found out through intense stalking just to impress him. wearing revealing clothes, buying him his favorite food and snacks whenever you visit his office to pick up something for your father. You got very close to him. Your obsession with him became stronger because he seemed so nonchalant about your little tactics. The worst thing you have ever done was hire someone to break off one of his relationships. Only you were meant for him. No one else.

Hearing your father say that he would be there was another opportunity to impress him. You shot up. “WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY THIS BEFORE???” You say as you rummage into your closet for the perfect dress. Your father believed that your attraction to Jungkook was innocent and similar to that of a child. You had always said you hated the smell of alcohol, so he thought it was strange for you to start hanging out at the bar. Despite noticing many changes, he dismissed them as 'innocence', so he expected you to join him if he mentioned Jungkook. He left your room with a satisfied smile on his lips. You finally found the dress. A satin spaghetti strap dress in black, his favorite color, with a dangerously low open back. The dress was revealing when you put it on; the side of your boob was peeking out, but it hugged your curves perfectly. As the time got closer, you finished up spraying on your most expensive perfume, taking a final look at yourself before leaving.

The party was classy. A huge venue with what appeared to be millions of waiters with champagne. Upon entering the venue with your family, your eyes immediately searched for Jungkook. It wasn't long before you spotted him in the middle of a small group. He seemed to notice your family and hurried towards all of you without delay. As he got closer, your heart was beating fast. “Hey hey! My man!” He said taking your dad into a tight hug. “You could have come a bit more later!” He said sarcastically, taking a jab at your dad’s late-coming habit. “Don't blame me! This one took too long!” Your dad exclaimed, hugging you by your side. Jungkook’s eyes landed on you. He stared you down. Taking in each and every curve, his eyes eventually landed on your chest before he looked at your face and smiled. “So glad you came! You look gorgeous tonight.” He said, taking in your hand and kissing the back of your palm slowly, in a sensual way, while deeply staring into your eyes. He pulled away and rubbed the skin with his thumb before giving you a smirk. You felt your insides melt and your brain malfunction at his simple gesture. You were frozen in place and didn’t know what to do. You shyly backed away and looked down , trying to hide your wide smile with your bangs, which Jungkook took notes on.

Time flew by as you watched Jungkook speak in front of the huge crowd with charisma and confidence. One of his best traits. He always caught everyone’s attention with his choice of words and tone. It was embarrassing for you to admit that, but it turned you on. Your legs were crossed, rubbing your thighs together from time to time, and no one seemed to notice, except for Jungkook, of course. He eyed you every time you made a small movement.

All the speeches and boring talks concluded, which made you run out onto the balcony for some fresh air. You stared off into the distance, thinking about what Jungkook had done to you earlier. Was it platonic? Was he just being nice? Does he have feeli- “did all those old men bore you out?” Jungkook was behind you. His voice husky. His lip and eyebrow piercing, shining under the moonlight. You were caught off guard and turned around to see ‘your man', “mr.jeon! Ugh you scared me!” You said dramatically, placing a hand on your chest. He gets closer with a charming smile on his face and hands in his pockets. “My apologies. I didn't mean to scare you!” He let out a soft chuckle. “How is your night going?” He asked you. “Hm? Oh good i guess, it’s kinda boring, but i would do anything for my father..” He chuckled and gave you a side eye. “For your father? Really?” it seemed like he knew the real reason why you were here in the first place. “Wdym really? I love my dad!” You said in a playful, offended tone. He chuckled once again. “Fine fine! I know how much you adore him.” You sighed softly and smiled.

“I like that dress on you. It suits you a lot.” He said while eyeing you. You blushed at his compliment, looking down and fiddling with your acrylic nails. “Thank you..” you mumbled under your breath. You feel him getting closer to you. “Sorry? I didn’t hear you, sweetheart.” His hands were on your hips, squeezing them softly. You froze in place. Heart beating faster. Your legs threatening to fall. His hands creeped towards your ass. Groping it softly, not wanting to seem too pushy. “Mr.jeon…-“ you let out a shaky whimper at his touch. “It’s jungkook for you, doll.” He said leaning in closer to your ears. He took a huge sniff of your neck and hair. “Thierry mugler alien eau de parfum? You have good taste.” He said while softly chuckling in your ears before pulling away. He lifted your chin so you can look at him. Your eyebrows were slightly furrowed as you stared into his intoxicating eyes. “What did you want to say earlier?” You gulped before speaking up. “Thank you… jungkook.” He smiled at you before placing a kiss on your forehead. His hands went under your ears, caressing the soft skin gently. Your eyes widened, and you just stood there. “I’ll see you around okay?” He said smiling before he left. You were standing put, like a statue, your limbs refusing to move.

A few days went by, and you were still processing whatever happened with jungkook that night. His kiss. The way his hands caressed your body. His little nicknames. It was just too much to process. You didn’t see or hear much from jungkook since that day. There were small interactions, but he seemed to ignore you each time. You were starting to get worried. What happened? What did you do wrong? Did you fuck up? Does he hate you?. You never stopped overthinking.

One morning, you heard the familiar voice of Jungkook from the kitchen, laughing and giggling with your father. You quickly put on your clothes and dolled up, still hoping to impress him, before you went downstairs. “Ah! She’s finally awake! We were just talking about you!” Your father exclaimed. You observed jungkook as he sat on the kitchen island and ate what appeared to be lucky charms. His favorite cereal. He glanced at you briefly before turning away. You felt your heart shatter. After all that he did? Is this the way he treats you? . You walked past him and got yourself a glass of orange juice. “Did you sleepwell princess?” Your father inquired. Jungkook was still not looking at you. His gaze was fixed on the newspaper in front of him. “Yeah yeah i did.” You said putting on a fake smile. “Oh!” Your father exclaimed as he heard his phone ring. “Excuse me.” He said before rushing out of the kitchen.

You glared at jungkook and gulped down your orange juice before dropping the glass onto the table. Jungkook noticed your action, which made him put his newspaper aside and walk towards you. “What’s wrong?” He inquired, leaning onto the island. “Hmph!” You huffed, turning around. He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Come onnn! Tell me.” He said while hugging your waist from the back. You let out a heavy sigh before turning back around. “What did I do wrong? Why do you keep doing this to me?” You asked. “Doing what?” “Are you seriously going to act like you don’t know?” You said folding your arms. Jungkook had a confused look on his face. “You are ignoring me damn it!” “Ohhhhh! About that! I just didn’t have anything to say.” He said shrugging. You rolled your eyes at him. “Admit it, Jungkook, you just want to play with my feelings. You don’t care about me. You never did.” You let it all out. It was weird for you to act like this, but you couldn’t help yourself. Jungkooks eyes darkened, and he stared at you. You gulp. “You think I don’t care about you? Me? Not caring about you? You think i come to your house almost every other day for your father?” He said while pushing you down onto the island. He turned you around and hugged you close to his body; you could feel his clothed hard dick on your pussy. You shudder when he slowly grinds his hips into your behind. “Ya feel that doll? Thats how you got me everyday..” he said whispering into your ears. His free hand found your right tit before he gave it a squeeze. Tugging the thin white fabric of your crop top down to expose your hardened nipple. You hear him darkly chuckle in your ear before giving the sensitive bud a squeeze. His hips never seemed to stop as he continued dry-humping you. You felt yourself involuntarily lowering yourself on the island, pushing your ass back into him for more stimulation. He immediately pulls away, leaving you weak and clenching around absolutely nothing. You whined, turning around to face him with pleading eyes. “What?” He scoffed at how desperate you were. He got closer and fixed your shirt. He didn’t say anything and just rubbed your shoulders down before walking away.

A while later, you were napping in your bedroom. It was not uncommon for you to take naps in between the day since you were basically unemployed and didn’t have much to do, and you also needed one after what happened with jungkook.

All the blinds were shut, leaving the room completely dark. It was silent; the only sound that was heard was the faint noise of the air conditioner. You were in deep sleep and didn’t notice or hear Jungkook entering your room. You felt the bed sink next to you before you felt a cold hand on your hip. His hands, kneading the soft flesh of your ass before it grazed around your desperate cunt. You whine when you feel his fingers touch and draw circles on your sensitive part. “Shh..” he shushed you before pressing onto your pussy. He chuckles at how quickly you got wet. Your mouth was agape, soft grunts escaping every second. He slowly pushed you onto your stomach, climbing on top of you before pulling your pink panties to the side.

It was dark, and he couldn’t see much, but he could feel how soaked you were. He spread your cheeks and lowered his mouth down onto your cunt, sucking on it. Your eyes shot open, heavy breathing as you turned around to see the man of your dreams eat you out from behind. “Ju-jungkook..?” He shut you up by lapping his tongue over your dripping cunt. You let out a loud moan, your head falling sideways, already drooling even though he barely started. He lifted your ass up using his strong hands, making you arch your back. He dropped his head lower and started sucking on your clit, his big nose pressing into your soaking pussy. You grabbed a handful of his hair from behind and pushed him closer. He hummed into your pussy, making you gasp for air. Loud slurping and squelching sounds, along with his groans and your moans, echoed throughout the room. You were seeing stars. The way his mouth ate you out and the feeling of his cold lip ring on your pussy were beyond comprehensible. Your heart started beating faster as you felt your body warm up, and a knot formed in your abdomen. Jungkook took notes on your body language and pulled away. You cried out when you lost contact.

He leaned in and switched on one of your bed lights, finally giving the room some light. He observed your body. Your ass was still up, your pussy glistening with his spit and your arousal. It was clenching and unclenching around nothing. He let out a scoff before turning you around. Your face already looked fucked out. Tears painted your cheeks, and drool was all over your mouth. He hovered over you, placing a hand on the headboard. He used his other hand to wipe your face clean. “We have gotten ourselves a good hour; better make this quick, alright?” You nodded softly and wrapped your hands around his neck, pulling him into a soft and tender kiss. He kissed you back and hugged you closely to his body. His hands went under your tee, squeezing your tit. You whined into the kiss. “You are so sensitive, sweetheart…” he mumbled. You break off the kiss and cup his face. “Jungkook… want more..” He tilted his head to the side and stared at you. He put on a smirk before standing at the foot of the bed.

He took off his pullover, revealing his tatted arms and toned abs and pecs. The soft bed light that was illuminating the room was able to capture every detail of his body. You stare. Hand in between your legs, squeezed shut. You bit your lip softly before your eyes met his. He gestured for you to come closer, which made you crawl to him. Your face was now right in front of his hard dick. You could see the bulge growing. His hand went behind your head, grasping your hair gently. You looked up at him with your doe eyes, which instantly made him fold, but he kept his composure. He gave you a nod, pushing your head closer to his crotch. Your nose nudged the bulge before your greedy fingers hastily unzipped his pants. Your eyes widened when his cock sprung out and hit his stomach. He was big. Girthy. The tip was red, and you could see his precum peaking from the slit. Without wasting time, you took a stripe from the base of his dick until the tip before you sucked on it. He hissed at the feeling of your plump lips sucking on his sensitive tip. He was starting to get impatient and pushed your head down, filling your mouth even though he was only half way in. You looked at him with teary eyes as you choked around his girth. He almost lost it when you looked up at him with those eyes of yours. His other hand caressed your cheek, pushing himself further down your throat. You could feel him. Your jaws were hurting, and you grabbed onto his hips for stability. Your throat spasmed around his cock. He noticed how you were kinda struggling. “Better make me feel good, okay? I want that throat to show me what it got.” With that, he started thrusting into your mouth. You started choking and gagging around his length, which just turned him on even more.

He yanked your head off of his cock. A string of pre cum and saliva connected your lips and his cock head. You looked up at him and whined, wanting his dick to stuff your mouth again. He bent down to your level before licking your chin clean, swallowing the mixture before speaking to you. “On your knees and hands, baby girl." You obliged immediately, taking off your flimsy tee before throwing your ass in the air and arching your back for him. You felt the bed dip behind you, and jungkooks long dick landed on your ass, slowly grinding through the sheer panties.His wet cock making it translucent. You whimpered, already feeling yourself getting hotter. “You are such a dumbslut.” He lowly chuckled.

“You think it wasn’t obvious?” He removed your skirt and ripped your panties. You gasp at his sudden action. “All these skimpy skirts and tops.. and just when I'm around? Were you that desperate, princess ?” He said while pushing his cockhead into your sopping hole.

You let out a loud moan; his tip was enough to stretch you out. “Not gonna lie… i was very flattered” gripping your ass cheeks as he slowly pushed further, letting you adjust to his size. He continued. “I only kept my cool because you were my best friend's daughter, but—holy shit-“ he gets cut off as you clench around his length, tears already dripping down your face. Your mind fogging up. You were constantly letting out soft moans and whimpers as he slowly bottomed down into you. “Woah there-“ he chuckled. “im not even half way in sweetheart” he said while grabbing a handful of your hair and pulling your head back. You looked at him with teary eyes. Lips quivering. He smirked before kissing your cheek. He let go of your hair and pushed your head down into the pillow using his hand. The other hand was on your hip as he finally pushed all the way in. “Since you are begging for it— ” you let out a loud scream as he filled you to the brim.

Although it was painful, the pleasure made you forget about the pain. you felt warm spit fall on your pussy as he starts moving. “Gon’ fuck you silly, alright? Isn’t that what you wanted? Getting dicked down by your father's friend? What a whore…” You nodded incoherently. A loud cry left your lips as his hips thrust into you harshly. His pace was slow, but the way he thrust in was so... Your body was moving forward with every thrust. Sounds of wet skin slapping echoed through your room. You were not able to focus on anything. His pace increased, and so did the harshness of his thrust. You clenched around him, making him fall forward. He caged your tiny body under his larger one. “Fuck babygirl.. you are gonna rip my dick off..” he chuckled. “Jungk-kook… feels too good…” you managed to blabber out as he fucked into you like a madman. “Yeah? you like that? You liked getting fucked by older men, dont you sweatheart?” You whined as his large hands gripped your hair.

This was wrong. Very wrong. This man has seen you grow up. He has been there since you were a baby.

“Let me hear those pretty sounds…” he said while landing a tight slap on your ass, reddening the area almost immediately. You gasped and whimpered, letting out a loud pornographic moan as Jungkook hit a specific spot. His other hand found your swollen clit and started drawing rough circles on it. Pinching and tugging the abused nub. Your legs trembled, and your moans got louder. “F-fuck! Jungkook…don’t s-stop! Feels so good!” You babbled. Jungkooks eyes were focused on your pussy. The way you took in his length. Your milky white cream coated his entire length, collecting at the base of his cock.

He stopped thrusting in you for a moment. You whined as you felt him suddenly stop. Jungkook smirked before leaning over and whispering in your ears. “Fuck yourself on me, doll.” You cried in defeat. Jungkook placed his hands on his hips, waiting for you to start moving. You gulped before slowly rocking your body forward and backward. You could feel his every inch penetrating the insides of your gummy walls. His large tip hitting your cervix over and over again. “Thats all you can do? Wow.. so pathetic..” he scoffed. You shook your head furiously and started going faster. Jungkook let out a satisfied groan as he watched your ass ripple. “Play with that little clit of yours.” He commanded. You reached down in between your legs, finding the sensitive nub almost immediately. You slowly rubbed your clit, sending shivers down your spine. You moaned out as the stimulation of your pussy and clit was getting overwhelming. You fucked yourself faster on his cock. Mouth in a soft ‘o’ shape and eyes crossed as his cock hit your gspot every time you moved in and out. Jungkook was in a different world. His eyebrows were furrowed, and sweat dripped down his neck. He was close to cumming just by seeing you fuck yourself on him.

His hands spread your ass cheeks, before a glob of spit landed on your asshole. You shuddered and panicked, stopping for a moment. “J-jungko-?” “Just focus on fucking yourself; everything is going to be alright…” he reassured you. You nodded before going back. His long fingers toyed with your rim. You grunt when you feel his fingers prod into your asshole. “Shh- shh.. youre safe .. jus’ wan’ try something new..” You gulped and shut your eyes tightly as his fingers ventured further into your asshole. He shoved three of his fingers into you, making you moan out loud. “Fuckkkkk- so tight…” he whispered. You melt and crumble when you feel his fingers move inside of you. You buried your head in your pillow, muffling out any unholy noise.

Your pussy and asshole clenched around his fingers and dick, making him groan. “So damn sensitive… has any guy fucked you, this good princess?” You shake your head. “N-no sir …” Jungkook shot up at the name. His fingers increasing in speed. You let out choked-out moans and cries as his fingers curled inside your asshole. “Say that again, will ya?” His other hand found your hips and started stretching your pussy out again. “Please.. f-fuck me harder… sir.” That was all it took to make Jungkook go feral. His cock left your pussy and was immediately shoved inside your sensitive ass. Your eyes shot out, and you couldn’t make any noise as you looked back at jungkook with tears rolling down your cheeks. He pinned your wrists behind your back before moving in and out. He struggled, initially. curse him for not stretching you out more, but his cream-coated cock provided enough lube for him to start pounding into you smoothly. “Shits so fucking tight- gah-“ your lips quivered and legs trembled as Jungkook fucked into you with great strength.

You screamed out, finally getting your voice back after he fully plunged his cock into you. Your cunt was leaking arousal, dripping down your thighs. Jungkook didnt seem to stop. His heavy, cum-filled balls were slapping against your pussy. “Jungkoook…- its too- too much!” You cried out. “Take it. You are a big girl. Take it like a big girl. I know you fucking can. Look at your little ass sucking me in. So good. So fucking good.” He pulled your body back and pounded into you. Your face was a mess. You cried and moaned like a bitch in heat every time he filled you to the brim. You felt your orgasm approaching as the feeling of the familiar knot in your stomach began growing. “Jung-jungkook- gon’ cum…” you whined. “Go on princess… be a good girl and cum all over me..” you nodded weakly, focusing on reaching your high. Jungkook flipped you over, laying you down on your back. His hands pushed your legs up against your chest. You were in ecstasy as the new position had you seeing stars. You observed Jungkook's sweaty body and fucked-out face.

A slap was landed on your glistening, sopping pussy before two fingers were shoved inside them. His thumb stimulating your clit. “Ngh- oh fuck- jungkook m’ so close…!” Your eyebrows were knit together, and sweat dripped down your face. The overstimulation getting too intense. Both his hips and hands increased their pace, determined to help you reach your high. You saw white as Jungkook pressed down on your sensitive bud. Clear liquid gushed out of your pussy and landed on his abdomen. You screamed as he continued fucking you through your orgasm. “Yeah.. just like that.. so dirty.. you are such a dirty little girl..” Jungkook's movements got sloppier. Your orgasm turned him on by a mile, and he was close to cumming himself. You twitched under him, still not over your intense orgasm, not noticing that he had slipped out of you and was furiously jerking himself off. His head was thrown back, and soft moans left his mouth. His breath hitched when a load of his milky white cum shot out all over your body. Coating your stomach and your boobs. You moan as you feel his hot cum land on your body, taking the mixture in your shaky fingers and licking it off while staring into his eyes. Jungkook smirked at you with half-lidded eyes.

“My dirty little girl."

A/N: HEHE THANK YEWWW 4 READINGGG! how was it tho? This would have been a stepcest fic but i changed my mind in the middle 🙁💔 im currently writing fics from my inbox! You can send in your rqs <3

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dollita-fawn · 5 months

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Forbidden Fruit

pairings- dbf! toji x Fem! reader

summary- your dads lowlife best friend comes to stay with you and your father for a while. your feelings of annoyance and hatred toward him turn into something more.

a/n - i had a good plot planned out until i actually started writing this so im sorry ab the randomness

NSFW WARNING :

contains- age gap (reader is early 20's, toji is early 40's bc i said so), unprotected sex, daddy kink, hair pulling , degrading

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

To put it lightly, Toji is a complete ass. He's an aging bachelor who has no future plans, a drinking problem which he tries to hide from your father, can't hold a steady job, and basically mooches off your father's financial generosity. He's loud and obnoxious, always trying to pick a fight with you over something stupid. Whenever your dad isn't there, he acts like he owns the place and makes up his own rules. He's the worst houseguest ever, and you kind of just want to punch him in the face. But then again, he's your dad's best friend, you've known him for years, so you have to be nice to him.

It's been a little over a month now since Toji has been staying with you and your dad. His presence has been a constant irritation, and it's hard to understand what exactly your dad sees in him. He seems to believe that anything he does should be accepted without question, and he constantly pokes and prods at you. It's been a struggle for you to feel comfortable in your own home ever since he started staying with you. He seems to do whatever he wants, whenever he wants, without any thought for the people around him. He sleeps on your couch, stays up eating your food, and makes no effort to clean up after himself. And he's constantly giving you a hard time about being an adult and still living with your dad. He tells you how you should have moved out ages ago, as if he has the right.

You know Toji is an absolute jerk. You loathe him and everything he stands for, so why do you keep finding yourself staring at his perfect figure? His muscular arms, his broad shoulders, his rock-hard abs, his thick thighs. His masculine face, and that cocky, all knowing grin of his. You can't seem to take your eyes off of him, and you hate that you find yourself attracted to him despite knowing who he really is on the inside. You hate that you crave his attention, that you want him to notice you. You know it's wrong to desire him in any way. He's your fathers friend, almost twice your age. And you had a boyfriend.

And yet, you can't help yourself. Leaving your room at night to 'get a glass of water' just to steal a glance at him. Sprawled out on your couch wearing only his tight boxers that showed his outline.

Purposefully leaving your door open when you changed clothes, hoping he'd be watching (which he often was.) Your actions grew desperate over time.

You were disgusted with yourself. So ashamed, thrusting your fingers into your needy cunt, pitifully whining at the fact that your little fingers could never fulfill your needs like his rough, manly ones probably could. Struggling to get off, the guilt looming over you but at the same time feeling so good. The thought of the cocky, ever teasing, older man bringing you to orgasm every time without fail. He was like forbidden fruit. Right there but you wouldn't dare try and taste. As badly as you wanted to, there was just no way.

or so you thought.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

While your dad was out at work, you find yourself alone in the house with Toji. It all started with a glance. Just a look.

That's what lead to you now, squealing into the couch cushions. Panties dropped down to your ankles and your skirt pushed up over your ass. His massive form stood behind you, one hand roughly holding you up by your hair, the other rapidly rubbing at your sensitive nub. "Such a fucking slut," he groans, "bet your little boyfriend can't even reach this far into you, hm princess? So fuckin' tight...it's like you've never even been fucked."

"A-ah...mnn Toji!" you whimper.

His cock stretches you. He was bigger than you ever would have imagined, his girth molding your walls into his shape. "Dirty girl, look at ya', drunk on your father's friends' cock."

His degrading only drove you crazier. Your knees grew weaker, legs wobbling so much you thought you'd fall, his strong hold keeps you positioned as you were. Making you feel every agonizing inch of his thickness. His bulbous tip rutting into your weak spots as he jackhammers into you with no remorse. You could barely even keep your eyes open, your voice coming out in half screams of his name.Your back arched into him as he hit that angle just right.

The stimulation of both your gspot and clit was breathtaking. Your brain went dumb with every stroke. You weren't even worried about how wrong it all was. You could only feel. Feel as the older man used your drenched pussy like his own personal fleshlight.

Your orgasm steadily crept, you couldn't hold it in even if you wanted to. "Mn..gonna cum daddy.." you thoughtlessly mewled.

The use of the new title stirred something within him, going straight to his cock. His head tilted back with a low grunt, "Good fuckin' girl...call me that again."

"Feels s' good daddy...ahh-mnn, I can't take it..." you babble.

He completely loses it. Hips stuttering, grip tightness. "Fuck princess, cum w' me. Cum all over daddy's cock, baby. c'mon." he was practically pleading, trying so hard to keep going and not finish so soon. But you brought out a whole other side to him. Even with all your previous tempting, he never thought he'd be here, balls deep in his best friends daughter. your tight cunt was just too good. he didn't care about the consequences. he wanted you for far too long.

He shoves your head into the cushions, muffling your sweet cries as you cream all over his length. Your quivering and whiny moans forced his own climax, making him spill deep inside. "Oh my fucking god.." he let out an elongated moan, as he filled you up, practically trembling at the release he felt. Steadily pumping his cum into you.

He relaxes his grip on your hair, slowing the roll of his hips as he tries to ground himself. He lowers you onto the couch as he slips out of you, collapsing along side you.

"y' alright, princess?" you weakly nod, mulling over to snuggle up to him. Toji takes you into his bulky arms, holding you against his chest. You melt into him, listening to the rapid beating of his heart, and his heavy breathing. Your eyes flutter shut, growing more and more tired.

Noticing, he shifts a bit, "Hey, don't be fallin asleep on me princess," he laughs, "lets get ya' cleaned up before your dad gets home."

#toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x reader smut #jujustu kaisen #toji fushiguro x fem!reader #toji fushigro x reader #dbf!toji #dads best friend #fanfiction #smut #fem reader #toji thirst #toji zenin #age g4p

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darlingbabyboo · 10 months

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"Baby, you're my whore!"

♡ Tokyo Revengers characters and their bimbo girlfriends ♡

Ken Ryuguji (Draken)

It has been said before and I will be one of the people to say it again

Definition of dress slutty: I can fight

Growing up in a brothel (with women that made sure that he was drinking his respect women juice everyday) he lets you dress however you please

Your skirt might be too short for his comfort, but as long as you feel comfortable and satiated, he's gonna bite his tongue

Who is he, to mess with what the love of his life wants?

On your stupidity

He's been hanging out with dumbasses all his life, if his baby happens to be a bit of a dumb fuck, he won't say a thing

He also thinks that you're absolutely adorable when you look at him with question in your eyes and say the most idiotic things known to man

A bit exasperating

But moreso adorable

"Kenny." He hums to show you that he's listening and continues fixing up his motorcycle. "What's the matter angel?"

"Why doesn't hair grow at the side of your head." He blinks and looks back at you, genuine wonder in your eyes. He sighs, and presses his forehead against the cool of his bike.

"Kenny, are you okay!?" He feels your arms wrap around his shoulders and your weight begin to press against him. You're ridiculous, but he loves you so much it hurts. He couldn't imagine a life without you around.

"'s nothing angel, don't worry your pretty head about it."

Takemichi Hanagaki (Takemitchy)

He's weak to you okay, he loves your short skirts that barely cover up your panties and your tight shirts that show off your lace bra's (if you even wear one some days)

You can say the dumbest shit or do the stupidest things and he'll be nodding along like a little puppy dog

Is it so wrong to be completely in love with your girlfriend? He worships you like a god and how dare anyone have the nerve to blame him?

You see the world in a way that he could never imagine, and you open his eyes to a world of possibilities

He just believes that he's lucky that you two are even together, you're beautiful and kind and even if there's not a lot going on in your head, you're the best girl that he's ever known

He just wants to be with you forever

You jump into his open arms, your arms wrapping around his neck and his automatically enclose around your waist. "Sweetie, I got a 40% on my test?" You say, cheerfully.

"W-what? I'm sorry. I know you studied hard for that."

"What?" You crock your head to the side and look at him with confusion in your eyes, "no, all I need is another 40% and then I'll be at an 80% average!"

Takemichi opens his mouth to say something, mainly, what in the world would make you think that, and how the hell do you think averages work? Instead, he shakes his head and gives a soft smile. He loves how you see the world, no matter how ridiculous it is, though he's going to need to talk to you about how grades work. He squeezes your waist, "I believe in you Sweetheart."

Takashi Mitsuya

He supports your endeavours, he even encourages them!

You want to wear a skirt that shows off your panties, sure! Just let him make a few adjustments and- while we're at it, why doesn't he just bedazzle that top too!

He wants the best for his darling, which means that you're going to be wearing things fit for a queen

It's in his nature to spoil his girl, so don't worry your pretty little head about any of the gorgeous clothes that you want, he's already on it

Though, there's not a lot going in your pretty little head, which he doesn't necessarily mind

He doesn't care if you stay the stupidest shit imaginable

You look at him with so much love and admiration in your eyes that he can't find it in him to worry too much about you

"Taka! This is so cute!" You spin around in your skirt, which raises above the lace panties that he also handmade for you. "Too bad about the people living in olden times." You pout.

Mitsuya walks up to you with a raised brow at your words. He wraps his hands around your waist, trying to think about what you could possibly mean. "Why, my love?" He finally bites.

You go on your tiptoes and press a kiss on his cheek, leaving behind a glittery mark. "They had to live in black and couldn't see all these pretty colours, like the clothes you make for me!"

Mitsuya nods along to your words, smile already pulling up at your words. He presses a kiss on your forehead. "That's not how it works my love."

You look at him with so much love and admiration in your eyes, expecting him to explain everything to you. He smiles, brushing his thumb against your cheek. He's so hopelessly in love with you.

Keisuke Baji

He adores harlots, whores, and anything else of the variety!

He loves the dumb, hazy look in your eyes when you come across something "complicated" (first time he's the smart one in a relationship)

Loves the things you dress up, encourages you to dress however you want, you know what, get even sluttier! He wants your skirt to be so short that your panties show when you stretch the tiniest bit, shirts so tight that you can't wear a bra

He loves his babygirl, and everyone's free to take a look at you

As long as they remember that you belong to him

"Babe, what's wrong?" You question as Baji grips his hands around yours and growls. You press a kiss to his lips as you try to calm him down. Greedily, he bites your bottom lip and deepens the kiss, hands on your ass.

"Asshole was flirting with my pretty girl. Hate when people try to touch what's mine."

You start to tear up, thinking he's angry with you, "sorry baby, I didn't know!"

"Nonono," He presses his lips against you harder, adoring the way that your red lipstick will leave behind marks on his lips, "not your fault- never your fault. Jus' means we gotta set his car on fire." You nod in understanding, not thinking twice of his act of violence. He gives you a wide, toothy grin, he doesn't think that he could love someone more.

Nahoya Kawata (Smiley)

Definition of a tease

He doesn't care how you dress (one of the people that really adores how you dress and would appreciate you to get even sluttier). You could wear a bra and a thong outside and he wouldn't bat an eye.

He just loves making fun for how naïve you can be.

"C'mon, one kiss!"

"No!" You huff, crossing your arms and facing your back to him, "'m 100% loyal to 'hoya."

He restrains his laugh, biting down on his lip. "Baby, I am Nahoya!" He manages to force out (though some giggles slip his lips).

"No! You said you were Souya! 'm not gonna fall for your tricks!"

You already are he desperately wants to say, but he's having too much fun messing with you. "Well, now I'm saying I'm Nahoya."

He doesn't need to look your way to know that your brows have furrowed deeper, trying to run through things in your small little head. "No! I'm not a cheater."

He sucks his teeth. His stomach's gonna hurt with how much he's gonna be laughing later. He turns you around and presses a quick kiss against your lips, you giving an indignant gasp at the action. You'll probably be whining about this later, when he explains what's going on, but this was worth it. God, you're a keeper.

Yasuhiro Muto (Mucho)

Not someone who loves the way you dress, wouldn't disapprove of it completely, he would never tell you how to do things or what clothes to wear, but he subtly encourages you to wear something else

It doesn't come from a bad place, he's just protective of you and doesn't want you to get harassed (he's also a bit traditional)

If you're determined to wear what you want, then he'll bend to your will. He would never let you be uncomfortable

He'll get used to things, just for you

Your intelligence, though...

He loves you through and through but he's always on the look-out around you. He has to make sure that no one is taking advantage of your innocence

"What's going on here?" The guys crowding you stutter away, looking at him with wide eyes. You don't notice the fear that has blanketed them and beam at him, running to wrap your arms around his waist.

"'hiro. These guys are asking if I want to hang out with them in, do you want to come with us?"

He purses his lips, yet another group of guys preying on your naivety. "No darling, I think we're going to go, I'm sure that these guys understand." He narrows his eyes at them so that they understand the consequences if they try to stay around you. They get the message, scurrying away like rats they are. You look at them with a pout on your lips, not aware of their dark intentions. He cups the side of your face and turns you towards him, "darling, why don't we see a movie at home." Your frown quickly disappears, a wide smile replacing it.

"That sounds great 'hiro!"

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auteurdelabre · 6 months

Text

SOMETHING TO FIGHT FOR (series) Joelxf!reader Part 1

Word Count: 5.3K

Pairing: Dad!Joel Miller x f!reader (no use of y/n, no physical descriptions) Tommy x Maria, Bill x Frank

Warnings: This is saccharine slice of life with smut and a Soft!Joel. You have been warned. There is swearing, there is smut, but when it gets to those chapters you will have plenty of warning. (That is if there is interest in my story!)

A/N: This is part of a sweeter series (lots of angst, pining and smut ahead) Also despite Sarah's young age Joel is early 40's in this because slightly grey babygirl DILF Joel is the best Joel.

"Please don't make me do this."

You shoot Maria a dark look as she drags you to her wardrobe, ignoring your plea.

"C'mon, it'll be fun! Plus I need your help picking out what to wear."

She opens the gleaming wood doors with a flourish and indicates with her head for you to look. You give her a once over with her luminous dark skin, hair in tight braids and roll your eyes.

Like it matters what she wears.

Maria is stunning. Arresting. Whatever other adjectives you need to describe someone who is not only beautiful but kind, brave, opinionated, strong... and occasionally manipulative.

How else can you explain why an hour later you're seated in her car on the way to the cheapest Italian restaurant in town for a double date?

"Tommy is so cute," Maria giggles, actually giggles. "I bet his brother is too."

"Mhmmm." You stare out the window with a frown, watching the rainstorm outside. The dress you're wearing feels itchy and you wish you were back at home with a book.

But you've agreed to this: a blind date with Tommy's brother.

You haven't been on a date since Paul. Paul with the light eyes and delicate fingers. Paul who promised to love you forever and then taken off to Manhattan, leaving you with rent you couldn't cover by yourself and a heartbreak so devastating it took Maria living with you for a full two weeks to get back to the land of the living.

Six months later her basement suite is where you currently call home, a place you often find yourself laying in bed at night wondering what the fuck had happened to your life plans. Maria had always been your most successful friend, running her own business, owning this huge house all on her own. She plans on flipping it once the renovations are done.

And when she'd known you couldn't pay your rent alone she hadn't even asked you how she could help. You'd woken up from a long depression nap amidst the breakup one morning to find your belongings packed and labeled and Maria telling you that you were moving in with her.

Moving into her basement wasn't exactly how you'd imagined your life at this age. But then again you didn't expect to be single and working at your same low paying job then either. She won't accept rent money either.

She's a fucking saint.

So of course you had to say yes to this favor. Of course you had to pull on your uncomfortable dress and look your best because she’s your closest friend and because she never asks you for anything.

Maria and Tommy met during renovations at Maria's place. She told you it was an instant connection, a jolt that went through her the minute he'd come through the door to give an estimate. Tommy and Maria's relationship is new, only a few weeks. But you've never seen your friend like this, all bright and cheery and giggly. She's normally more subdued, more of a quiet observer.

Love does strange things to people you suppose.

You know it did to you not so long ago. But yours didn't have the happy ending you're sure your friends’ will.

The truth is despite your own heartbreak you are delighted for Maria. Genuine joy flows from you when she tells you about Tommy and his dark eyes and his sweet shy way of talking.

Maria backs the car into the spot, humming nervously under her breath. You scan the large windows of the restaurant hoping to catch a glimpse of Tommy. You've seen a few photos on Val's phone, but those can be deceiving.

You cell rings shrilly in your purse and you retrieve it just as Maria puts the car into park.

"Hey, just gimme a sec, I'm just getting dinner with Maria," you say as you answer the phone, glancing over at your friend. "Sorry it's my mom calling. I just need a minute if that's okay?"

"Of course," Maria says nodding solemnly. I'll meet you inside."

She hands you the car keys before running a nervous hand through her braids and heading for the restaurant. You watch her leave, holding in a smirk at her obvious nerves.

"Hi bug," your mom's throaty voice sounds out through the earpiece when you put it back to your ear. "Thought you'd want an update."

"I did yeah, thanks for calling. Did they say anything?"

Anything your mother was going to say is immediately washed out by the most obnoxious sound of "Back in Black" playing at high volume.

"The fuck - "

Your eyes go to the silver and blue truck that's pulled up next to yours in the crowded parking lot.

A man with a short beard and tousled brown locks sits behind the wheel putting the vehicle into park. The music is still blasting though, and it's no wonder you can hear him; his window is half down.

Your mom is still saying something but you can't hear her. You try plugging the ear facing the driver and pressing the phone more harshly against your temple but it's no good.

Irritation is going like lightning through your body at the actions of the asshole next to you. Another quick glance tells you he's just sitting there, his one arm slung over the wheel as he stares into space.

"Mom just a sec," you interrupt before rolling down your window and calling out to him.

"Hey!"

The man in the truck doesn't turn his head in your direction until you call out another sharp 'hey'. As he glances at you his brows lift in question.

"Turn down the fucking music! This isn't a concert."

Thinking back, you could have gone about that in a much kinder way.

You could have politely explained you were on an important call. You could have asked him nicely to turn it down. But you're so anxious about the importance of this phone call, that your manners leave you.

The man is looking at you as if he can't believe your vitriol. His dark eyes are soulful as he stares at you, unblinking. The music is still pumping in his truck, perfectly matching the tempo of your rapidly rising pulse.

"Are you deaf or just an asshole?" you shout, your hand still holding the phone to your chest, praying your mom can't hear you verbally lambasting the man next to you.

The man looks like he wants to say something back at you. A tic in his jaw flexing. He parts his mouth before clamping it shut and glaring openly at you. He jerks the key out of the ignition, the music immediately silencing.

"... in the hospital," your mother is saying.

Immediately your attention is back on her and what she's saying. You only notice the man has exited the truck when you hear the slam of its door and the heavy sound of his footsteps diminishing towards the restaurant. You're too fixated on what your mom is saying, or rather, isn't saying.

"Do they know if . . . " you trail off, not sure if you want to know the answer.

"Not yet."

The two of you lapse into a gentle silence that your mother is first to break. "Did you say you were having dinner with Maria?"

"Uh yeah," you say, still processing the information. "Blind date kinda thing."

"Good for you," she says warmly. "Go on then, bug. I don't want to keep you. Give her my love."

"I don't really want to go inside,” you admit. “Rather just stay in the car all night.”

"Enough of that," your mother chides gently. "I didn't raise a coward. Now go on. We'll chat later, I love you."

You respond similarly and place the phone back into your purse. You take a few steadying breaths, glancing at yourself in her rear view mirror and then pulling yourself from the car.

/////// /////// /////// /////// /////// /////// /////// ///////

The restaurant is dimly lit with gentle cliché Italian music playing in the background. You and Maria have been coming here since college; it's a familiar haunt so it's no wonder that she set the date here. It's some of the worst Italian food in town but also the cheapest.

You come to the table to see just the two of them sitting across from one another and you feel your heart leap and sinks all at once. Did the brother not show up? Are you off the hook?

Or worse, did he see you and leave?

Maria smiles at you, her hand still in Tommy's. She nods her head at the chair beside her. "Come sit."

You do, looking nervously over at Tommy and introducing yourself. Tommy reminds you so much of a puppy dog in the best possible way; all smiles and eager energy as he greets you. He's lithe with broad shoulders he covers in a jean jacket over a white t-shirt. His face is clean shaven and his dark hair fans into his equally dark eyes. He's sweet looking, boyish and nervous.

"My brother's just making a phone call," he explains when he notices you glance at the empty seat beside him. "He'll be right back."

Relief mingled with trepidation goes through you. The waitress comes over with everyone's drinks, leaving a beer in the empty space on the table for Tommy's brother and a berry-colored glass of something in front of you.

"I got you the sangria," Maria shrugs.

"Sounds good, thanks."

You take a sip, feeling nervous as the flavor coats your tongue. The restaurant is busy tonight, not really a shock for a Friday night. You glance around, your eyes darting to Maria and Tommy before you adopt an authoritative tone.

"So Tommy, what are your intentions with Maria?"

Tommy's eyes blow wide in surprise, blinking and stammering.

“I, I uh –“

"You're so mean," Maria says as you both burst into giggles. "You're fine, honey. She's joking."

At Tommy's stricken expression, Maria pats his hand affectionately. Relief instantly floods his face.

"Couldn't resist," you say, shooting a glance at a still recovering Tommy. "If it helps, she's crazy about you,"

Tommy's face breaks into a wide grin that he shoots at Maria. "Is that so?"

Maria looks flustered, opening up her menu and pretending she doesn't hear him.

"Let's order I'm starved."

You nod, looking down at your menu with a smile. You know that tonight is going to be awkward, as any blind date with another couple would be. But you like seeing Maria smiling, you like hearing her laugh as Tommy murmurs something to her about the garlic bread. Maria has been through a lot, she deserves this. You resolve to do whatever you can to make this night go well.

"Ah, there he is," Tommy says shooting a smile at someone behind you. "This is my brother, Joel."

You look up from the menu at the figure who slides into the chair opposite you. You're ready to be as charming as needed to get through this dinner but the smile immediately dies on your face.

It's the man from the truck.

He's broad shouldered, wearing a dark green button down rolled at the sleeves. It's tight across the arms, emphasizing the width of his chest. He and his brother don't look much alike to you aside from the coloring. Joel's face is pleasant if not serious-looking with big, sad eyes. He's attractive enough, a bit older than you and seems rugged with his beard and tousled locks, threaded with bits of grey.

He seems to be doing the same mental gymnastics because he goes from looking confused to angry within a microsecond of seeing you.

So much for a pleasant evening.

Normally you would have wanted to know more about him than the vague description you'd received from Maria on the ride over, but right now you want the earth to swallow you whole. You just screamed at this guy, called him an asshole in the parking lot less than ten minutes ago. Now you have to sit here and pretend to be polite.

His eyes move swiftly to Maria who looks at him nervously.

“The infamous girlfriend,” Joel says with a small smile. “Pleased to meet you.”

“The even more infamous brother,” Maria says warmly shaking his proffered hand.

“That’d be me,” Joel says with a soft chuckle. You wonder if perhaps you overestimated how rude you’d been. Joel seems perfectly nice right now, smiling at Maria and Tommy and apologizing for taking so long on the phone. Maria introduces you to him in a tone that sounds almost proud.

The smile that Joel has been wearing immediately slides from his face and you clear your throat nervously, forcing a smile onto your face.

"Uh, hi. Nice to meet you."

He gives you a sharp nod by way of reply.He doesn't look at you for long. More a cursory glance at your face before he picks up his beer and takes a swig before turning to ask Tommy something about the job site.

Great.

You crane your neck, leaning back in your chair hoping to see your waitress in the rapidly filling restaurant. You want this evening to speed up and be over. Maybe you can order an appetizer and dash out. But you can see your waitress deep in conversation with another table of eight and know you'll be waiting a bit. You hold in a sigh as you look back at Joel Miller.

He's started peeling the label from his beer in tiny scratches. It's obvious to you that he's just as disappointed as you are that you're his date for the evening. Even if you two hadn't experienced the altercation outside you doubt he would have been your type: too serious, too hard.

Paul had been the opposite: open and funny and immediately putting you at ease.

Stop thinking about him.

You take another sip of your drink, deciding that while Joel is a shit blind date he's actually perfect for practicing on for any future dates. Ones that you may have with men who are a helluva lot more pleasant than he is.

Maria and Tommy are looking at their menus, obviously trying not to watch the two of you interact. But you can see Maria's eyes darting to you out the corner. You know that she’s silently willing you to make an effort with Joel.

"So Maria says you guys work for a construction company?" You look from Joel to Tommy.

"We own a construction company," Joel corrects, his dark eyes still glued to the label of the beer bottle he's picking at with a short fingernail.

Off to a great start.

Tommy joins in, noting his brothers' reluctance to keep the conversation going.

"Joel takes care of the carpentry and the invoicing. I'm more drywall and marketing," Tommy smiles wide and friendly at you. "We have a few other guys on the team that do the rest."

You already like Tommy. He's sweet and soft and judging by the way he's still holding Maria's hand across the table, he's very interested in her.

"Must be nice to be your own bosses," you offer, hoping that if you're complimentary that Joel won't tell them about your incident outside.

"Way better than the old subcontractor we had to work for before." Tommy takes a sip of beer, shaking his head. "That guy was such a dick."

Joel flashes Tommy a nod of agreement before looking distracted. You wonder if it's you doing it to him or the phone call he took right before this. When it's clear Joel won't be asking you anything, Tommy speaks up.

"And what do you do again?"

"I work at a humane society here in Austin," you say between sips of your drink. "The job doesn't pay great but I love animals."

You trail off noting that Tommy looks frustrated with himself. "Shit, that's right. Maria said that."

"Don't beat yourself up," you laugh. "It's not exactly the most memorable job on the planet."

Joel makes a little scoffing noise of agreement. As if his job is so much more enthralling.

You hold in a biting comment as the waitress approaches your table and this time you see her name tag reads Felicia. She's a pretty girl with bright red hair who clearly has interest in the man across from you.

"Bruschetta for the table?" Tommy asks with a glance in everyone's direction. You all nod because who would say no to bruschetta?

Felicia's eyes linger on Joel even as she takes everyone else's orders for dinner.

Good. She can go home with him for all you care. If anything she'd be doing you a favor.

The silence is back when she's gone and you can't miss the strained look passing between Maria and Tommy. You don't blame them; this entire experience feels tense and uncomfortable. Maria is subtly nudging you in the ankle with her boot, flicking her eyes from you to Joel and back again. The meaning is clear: make an effort.

Only for Maria would you suffer through this dinner. Only for Maria would you try to engage the stone-faced man across from you. You take a deep breath before forcing a smile in Joel's direction

"So, Joel, what do you do for fun?"

Joel looks as if he's getting the same amount of non-verbal grief from his brother because he straightens a bit, looking at you from under thick lashes.

"I hunt."

You cringe. Not even inwardly, you full-out wince at that. Hunting has always been one of those things you've never seen the point to in modern society. Sure, when food had to be hunted or families starved it made sense. But nowadays? It seemed barbaric.

And knowing what you do for a job, you're shocked at the lack of tact. Hobbies were a dime a dozen and that's the one he brings up?

Asshole.

He seems to notice your recalcitrance because that same cool appraisal is back on his face.

"And what do you enjoy?"

You don't miss the sarcasm in his tone betraying that he really doesn't give a fuck, but decide to answer him sincerely regardless.

"I read. I hike, I paint, I watch zombie movies."

Joel winces at that. "Can't stand 'em."

What a shock. Something else you don't have in common.

You almost feel like this entire date was devised just to make Tommy and Maria feel less guilty about being so in love and your feel a stab of resentment. Tommy seems to notice the tension building because he jumps in a little too eagerly.

"Joel plays guitar. He's really good."

"And you sing," Maria adds, nudging you again before looking at Joel and Tommy. "Her voice is so beautiful."

Both you and Joel answer almost simultaneously. "Not anymore."

Your eyes flick to one another in surprise before the meals are brought to the table by the far too peppy Felicia.

"Careful," she tells Joel with a purr. "Your plate is very hot."

"Thanks," Joel says flashing her a quick smile. You note the dimple in his right cheek when he does.

"What kind of animals come through your job?" Tommy asks, spearing a piece of chicken.

"The usual, cats, dogs, small animals like hamsters, ferrets," you list these off with ease. "With some of the other sites in we house sheep and horses."

"That would've been our dream job as kids, huh Joel?" Tommy says with a faraway smile. "Being surrounded by animals, helping 'em."

Joel gives an agreeing grunt by way of a reply, chewing his dinner with a frown. It's so obvious that he would rather be anywhere but here.

"It's not all dreamy," you answer, pretending Joel isn't even there. "I work at the main office so I barely get to see the animals. Most of the time I'm grant writing because we're so underfunded."

You frown, thinking about the difficulty of going into work knowing that you can't save every poor animal that crosses your path.

"Plus after the flooding last month the office is trashed, but there was this grant for office restoration." You talk excitedly, knowing exactly what you'll do with the money.

"Guaranteed that even if she gets the grant for the office reno's she'll put it all to the kennels they need," Maria says to Tommy but she's looking at you fondly. "That's why I love her."

You feel shy under the twin gazes of Tommy and Maria and you want to turn to Joel and scream: "See! I'm not as horrible at you thought! I'm not just a bitch who screams at people in parking lots!" but you have I'm feeling even if you did that he wouldn't believe you enough to care.

"Well, when you do get the grant, I know a great contractor," Maria says with a wink in Tommy's direction. Tommy blushes slightly in response, offering a quick nod.

"I'll definitely keep you in mind," you say to Tommy, stabbing your pasta with your fork. "Everything is so expensive to build; maybe you'll give me the 'Maria's best friend' discount."

Tommy and Maria laugh but Joel remains stone-faced.

"What about you guys?" You address them both but its Tommy you look at. "I don't know much about what you do aside from restorations like Maria's place."

"We have a few bids in this month," Tommy says through a mouthful of his chicken. "Really hoping for this one build at a military site, but the lead on it is kind of a nightmare. We worked with her once before. Needs to have constant meetings about every little thing right, Joel?"

Tommy looks over at his older brother.

"It's a good gig," Joel nods, sliding a piece of bread through the marinara sauce on his plate. "Kathleen's usually a dog with a bone, but pretty harmless overall."

He goes back to his meal, eating quickly. Tommy looks dumbfounded by his brothers behaviour.

Fuck this guy.

Yeah, you were rude to him in the parking lot. But that was just between the two of you. Now he's making it horrible for an entire table of people who are just trying their best to have a pleasant evening.

There's a faint buzzing and you watch Joel fumble for his phone, an old blackberry. He reads whose calling and excuses himself. You all watch as he leaves, heading for the exit.

"You sure he's not a drug dealer on the side?" You joke. "Last time I saw a guy react like that to a phone call he was selling weed outta his mom's basement."

Maria shoots you a grin.

"It's Sarah," Tommy replies with a glance after his brother. "It's the first time Joel's left her with a sitter that's not me."

Sarah? A sitter? Wait, Joel has a kid? That miserable jerk found someone to willingly procreate with? You don't remember that part of the information Maria gave you in the car.

"He's pretty protective of her," Tommy continues. "He's worried she may be a lot of work with new people."

With Joel as her father, you're hardly shocked. You imagine a little girl with serious dark eyes and a bad attitude.

"Has he been divorced a long time?" Maria asks, and you realize she knows very little about Joel as well.

"Almost four years, but apart longer."

You nod and the three of you eat quietly, listening to the sound of bland Italian elevator music in the background. Joel reappears a short time later, sliding into his seat as Tommy looks over.

"Sarah okay?"

"She's fine," Joel nods, his voice low and rumbling. "She just couldn't find toad."

"She has a toad?"

Joel's eyes slope over to you in irritation. "It's a stuffed animal."

"Oh."

"The sitter's a moron," Joel says to Tommy with a dark look. "Got her all hopped up on sugar."

"Connie isn't a moron, Joel," Tommy defends. "She takes care of her own mother practically full time."

You and Maria exchange a look as the brothers disagree.

"I shouldn't have left her alone with them." Joel is getting more agitated by the second; he's not even hearing what his brother is saying. "They have that old dog of theirs."

"She's fine, Joel."

"I shouldn't have come," Joel mutters as he pulls some cash from his wallet and drops it on the table beside Tommy's plate. "This was such a bad idea. Such a waste of time. I gotta go."

You say nothing, but the blood is rising in your cheeks as you stare down at your plate. You want to believe that Joel is leaving solely because of his kid, but a large part of you knows she's just a convenient excuse to cut the evening short.

"I'll see you later" Joel grumbles to Tommy before he's left the table without a backwards glance or a goodbye to you.

As he strides off you want to laugh. This entire evening has been a joke from start to finish. Tommy is shooting Maria a sheepish look of silent apology. Obviously the evening hasn't gone how anyone anticipated it would.

"I'm so sorry," Maria starts but you cut her off.

"It's fine, just exhausted from work. Mind if I just take off?"

"Of course," Maria looks inconsolable. "Just take the car, Tommy will drop me off later."

You nod, holding out a twenty to her that she won't accept. You pocket it after a brief goodbye to Tommy you head to the entrance of the restaurant. You only exit when you're sure that Joel's truck is gone from the parking lot.

/////// /////// /////// /////// /////// /////// /////// ///////

You pull up to the house, thankful the rain has stopped. Maria's place is on a quiet, suburban street with identical lawns and mailboxes. She doesn't do much with the exterior of the home, but it's a nice navy blue color with bright white shutters. It feels especially welcoming after your horrible dinner.

You can't stop thinking about Joel. His miserable face and the way he practically ran out of the restaurant. You kick a rock angrily on your way up the sidewalk as you move towards the house.

"You look like Bill after Bush got elected."

Your eyes dart up to house next to Maria's. The neighbor Frank is standing there on the front porch holding a cigarette elegantly between his fingers

His home is a similar in shape and color to Maria's, but that's where it ends. Where Maria's house is plain, this house is immaculately kept with bright flowers under the windows. The door is a lacquered black and a simple green wreath hangs in its upper center. It feels sophisticated and welcoming all at once.

Frank gives you another sharp look, a smirk quirking his lips.

The first day you'd arrived at Maria's, your eyes puffy and dressed in three-day-old sweats, he'd sent over a basket of goodies with a note that simply said: straight men ain't shit, your neighbors Frank and Bill. You'd liked him straightaway ever since. He's funny and charming and never seems to be in a bad mood.

Maria has nothing but good things to say about him. Best neighbor she's ever had, according to her. You often find them on either side of the fence that separates their lawns, gossiping about things in the neighborhood. Frank always seems happy, always seems upbeat.

But right now you don't feel like being happy. You want to climb into bed and be sad.

"Just a bad night," you frown, pulling your purse further up your shoulder and moving towards your place.

"Where I come from, bad days usually call for a drink."

You've never been a drinker. You occasionally have beer with fish and chips in the summer. Hot chocolate with a splash of rum at Christmas. Sangria at dinner with a bad blind date. But you've been to Frank's before and you know that whatever they have will taste amazing.

Frank's eyes are playful as he watches you pause. You shuffle back in his direction, a wry smile on your face before you glance at his door nervously.

"Is Bill around?"

Dumb question. Bill is always around. Always frowning, always building something and muttering about elaborate anti-government theories you don't always follow but smile politely at. Bill makes you nervous, but then again, he makes everyone nervous.

"Basement," Frank smiles beckoning you with a wave forward. "If he comes upstairs I'll handle him."

You don't need much more invitation than that. You bound up the stairs to his place, placing your bag at the entryway and following him into the kitchen.

While the outside of Frank and Bill's place is beautiful, the inside is breathtaking. The color of the walls is a soft green, the wood stair railing boasts intricate details of florals and the piece de resistance is the gleaming black baby grand piano that sits in the living room.

You think about pressing one of the ivory keys as you walk by but stop yourself. Everything in this home is so beautiful, so wonderfully cared for that the thought of moving any if it, even a fraction seems cruel.

"Does Bill ever play for anyone?"

"He does." Frank is in the kitchen bringing two large wineglasses down from the shelf.

You roll your eyes. "You don't count."

"Rude," Frank says with an arched brow, but there's no power behind it. "If I get him liquored up enough he might be persuaded to play for an audience of more than just me."

You watch him pour the crimson liquid into the dual glasses before handing it to you. You follow him to the sitting room by the piano, your eyes glancing longingly at it.

"It's a Beaujolais," Frank says sitting across from you as he swirls his glass with the finesse of a professional sommelier. "Very fruitful with a few smoky notes."

You twist the delicate stem between your fingertips and peer into the glass. "Looks . . . Red."

Frank laughs at your unrefined palette. He and Bill and wine connoisseurs, their home stocked with all manner of wine and other spirits.

"You look especially dressed up," Frank offers warmly at the wine slips over your tastebuds. "Hot date?"

"If my date tonight is any indication of what's out there, I think I might just stay single forever."

"Was he really that bad?" Frank's handsome face is concerned.

"He's a grey sprinkle on a rainbow cupcake."

Frank laughs loudly, his head tossed back. You smile around your wine glass, secretly pleased you could elicit such a response.

"Was he cute at least?"

"No," you answer a bit too quickly.

Frank looks about to reply when the door to the basement is shoved open with a bang.

A stout man with shoulder length brown hair and a scraggly beard looks around the room wildly blinking, as if his large blue eyes are adjusting to the lights.

He's wearing an old grey sweatshirt, threadbare with holes in the collar. He's such a stark contrast to his husband whose facial hair is meticulously groomed, his patterned orange shirt pressed and smelling like expensive cologne. If you got close enough to Bill you know he'd smell like sweat and oil from whatever he's been working on downstairs.

Bill approaches you both, his eyes sliding to your figure at the table and frowning, the crease between his brows deepening. You raise your hand in a small wave.

"Evening, Bill."

"What are you doing here?" His eyes drift to your wineglass. "And is that my wine?"

"Manners," Frank warns with a teasing lilt. "And last time I checked, Bill, it was our wine."

"Yours and mine. Not hers," Bill grumbles as he lumbers over to the kitchen to pour himself a glass.

You assume he'll head back downstairs but he shuffles to the table and plops down next to Frank, the chair squeaking under him. Sitting next to each other they seem like such an odd pair, and yet when Frank absently moves hair behind Bill’s ear and they look at one another smiling softly, you think there has never been a couple better matched.

"Our girl here finally went out on a date," Frank says like a proud father.

"A blind date," you explain with a wince. "And a bad one. Almost makes me remember Paul fondly."

At least Paul had never insulted and then walked out on you in the middle of a crowded restaurant.

"Paul," Bill scoffs into his glass, shaking his head. "Idiot man-child."

You smile at this, appreciating Bills acerbic tone when it's directed at a common enemy. You take this moment of unexpected civility and indicate to the piano with your wineglass.

"Hey Bill do you think you'd ever play for me?"

Bill turns his hardened gaze on you.

"Not a fucking chance."

#fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller #fanfiction #dad joel miller #smut #pedro pascal

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winterarmyy · 10 months

Text

Promise Me | Part I

When he was sent out for war, Bucky made a promise to his lover that might just last through several lifetimes.

Summary: Y/N kept being reincarnated into the world for seemingly endless of lifetimes with the lasting, vivid memories of her past lover during the 40's, Sargent James B. Barnes. While she thought this was a 'punishment' for her sins, she was also unknowingly oblivious to the fact that James was still alive somewhere, almost forever frozen in the time.

Navigation: Part I | Part II | Part III (end)

Words: 6.5k++ (hella long bc lots to cover in the story building part)

Pairing: 40s!bucky / eventually tfatws!bucky x female!reader

Warnings: just slow induced angst for your daily consumption (i guess?) It has a hopeful ending so don't let the first warning chase you away. reincarnation concept. an attempt to follow exact mcu timeline (forgive if i'm wrong at certain parts). slight religious contents. grief & loss. graphic violence. deaths. mention of suicide. a lot of reader's pov, story building > dialogs (sorry guys).

P/S: Another impulsive writing from me y'all. I hope you don't get bored of this tendency of mine lol. I just need to let the fantasies out before it consumes me. So... anyway, it's gonna be another 3 parts fic cause for the love of god, I cannot commit for more :') Also, my first attempt of writing 40's bucky!!! I'm honestly scared. I hope you like it!

Read my other works here: Masterlist

Italy, 1943 – His return

If it was one thing that Bucky should expect when he decided to be in a relationship with Y/N was that he had to accept her for who she was; stubborn, clumsy, bold, clever, sweet and most certainly the prettiest dame he ever met.

He might have unknowingly signed up for it the moment he quite literally fell for her at one of those Stark's science expo. Bucky had been stealing glances at this one pretty lady in the crowd, adored in soft mint dress that falls right below her knees.

It wasn't even a scandalous dress to wear in public but somehow Bucky was more than ecstatic to marvel at her beauty. There was no such thing as a too long of a stare, especially when she laughed like that; throwing her head in amusement, the loose strands of her curls fall back across her shoulders as they slightly shook to the rhythm of her laughter.

A careless misstep, that Bucky could see from a mile away, had caused her to stagger backwards and twisted her ankle into an inevitable fall. Somehow, Bucky managed to slither his way through the crowd towards her, almost jumping forward to catch her before she landed on the ground.

Not only that he was the one who fell first, but he also fell hard.

So, it was expected that Bucky knew what he had got himself into. At least, that was what Y/N had been repeating in her head to convince herself for what she had done. Now that she was sitting at the back of the wobbly military truck, the fear had slowly started to seep into her, causing shivers to crawl all over her nerves.

Y/N just knew it in her guts that Bucky would be absolutely furious when he sees her but what does he expect her to do when she hadn't receive any letters from him for months now. So, when she heard that they needed more medical helpers at the Italy base, she signed up without thinking twice about it.

"There has been a recent attack on the 107th. Too many casualties and much more whose heavily injured. You might have your hands full the moment you arrive to the base. There are few rules..." The lieutenant's voice was rigid just as his demenour when he continued to inform the situation to the troops of medical staff.

No matter how much she wanted to pay attention to his words, Y/N couldn't help but to tune in only at his first few sentences. Casualties, heavily injured. Her hands moved to search for the cross pendent hanging from the necklace around her collarbone, gripping it tight as she prayed that her lover was not categorized under any of those dire circumstances.

What the lieutenant said in that truck could never be more true as the moment they stepped into the medic tent, Y/N and the others were quickly pulled to assist the fallen men. It was truly heartbreaking and horrid to witness the dreading truth behind what the public posed as the "heros of the country'.

Surely they were proud to fight for the nation but then again no human being should ever had to suffer the consequences of war; not the civilians and certainly not the soldiers.

After seemingly hours of continuous stitching, wrapping and patching up; surrounded sound of groaning pain and the endless cycle of inhaling the distinct scent of fresh blood, burned flesh and the bitter of anticeptic odor; the injured soldiers were finally taken care of and had been put to rest.

Y/N looked around the tent, noting the unorganized mess around the patients; the result of the panic and chaos of the whole situation. A thought came to her mind, she might need to do some cleaning up before writing down medical record for each one of the patients.

That was when the lieutenant entered into the tent, and his stern gaze swiftly analyzed the much calmer scene, "Thank you for your service, everybody. I assume the soldiers are stabilized?"

"Yes, sir." One of the battalion doctor replied as he approached, while the rest of the team watched from where they stood.

The lieutenant simply nodded, "Good." He paused for awhile and looked around, "Now, have any of you met Captain America before?"

There were bunch of no's murmured around the medical staff, some of them just shook their head as an answer and the lieutenant nodded again as he informed, "Well, I guess you are all just darn lucky cause he's here to perform. You are invited to come and join the others to watch, if you want to."

"Steve's here?" She thought to herself.

As the lieutenant continued to explain some things about accommodation, food and medical supplies, Y/N's head were filled with thought that her dear friend, Steve was there too.

"I wonder if he gotten any words from James."

"Maybe he got letters from him?"

"Or could it be that he was here to find James too?

There were so many questions kept circulating in her head that by the time she snapped out of them, the lieutenant was already long gone and some of the medic staff went out to untangle themselves from the hours of stressful tension.

As a nurse herself, she felt the need to take care of her patients and finish her job before anything else. So, she started to clean up the shredded clothes, bloodied guazes and the other medical tools that needed to be sterilized and put away.

By the time she finished, it finally dawned to her that there was no trace of Bucky in the medic tent. Which means he didn't fall into the heavily injured category. So, there was two left; the one she prayed for and the other that dreaded her to even think about.

Y/N quickly made her way towards the tent where she can find the soldier in charge. However, if she was focused during one of the lieutenant's speech in the truck, she would've heard that she and the others were not authorized to enter certain parts of the base, which include the higher ups' tents.

When she was turned down by the soldiers, she sadly walked away towards the main area where Steve was supposed to perform. The drag of her feet across the dusty sand was heavy but no more heavier than the burden in her heart.

She watched as her black pump shoes gradually covered with light sand. Finding it odd that a few weeks ago she was standing on the shiny tile of a hospital in Brooklyn and now she was halfway across the world in the middle of the chaos of a war.

The things she'd do for love.

Soon enough, the dry ground was wet from the sudden down pour, turning it into a murky soggy path. Y/N quickly ran towards the main area where apparently the show was long over. "Did I missed Steve?" She thought as she stepped into the tent where the performers supposed to be.

The tent turned out to be empty and only the sound of drizzling raindrops above it was left behind. She looked around the area and saw the costumes for the performers were still there; the pleated white and red skirt hanging on the rack, white gloves clipped with them, the captain's shield with notes sticking at the back of it and the iconic blue helmet-mask thingy plastered with the obvious letter.

She peeked a little to the right only to see Steve hunched down on the floor, curling into himself just as he always did back when he was left beaten up in the alleyway somewhere in Brooklyn. She guessed that the upgrade of his size doesn't really change his habits.

Y/N walked closer to see him holding his sketchbook on one hand and another was a pencil pressing across the paper, lining the drawing of a monkey on a unicycle. "I guess the serum does not amplify your art skills huh Steve?" she teased as she approached the blonde man.

Steve lifted up his head as he turned towards the familiar voice, "y/n?" His face lit up as he recognized her face. He stood on his feet and pulled her into a tight hug, "It's so good to see you." He sighed, he haven't seen her since his departure when she insisted for him to stay.

But alas, Steve was also as stubborn as her.

It took awhile for him to process it but when it came to him, he gently pushed her away, "Wait.. what are you doing here?" His brows creased into a worried frown.

Y/N simply smiled as she responded, "They needed help, so I volueentered."

Steve shook his head in disbelief, "Bucky made me promise not to let you do stuff like this." In which Y/N countered, "And he also remind you not to do anything stupid until he get back so..." she purposely trailed her words for him to draw the conclusion on his own.

He let out a long sighed before concluding, "Bucky's gonna kill us."

Since, Bucky was in the topic, Y/N took the oppurtunity to asked Steve about him, "About that, have you heard--"

A woman's voice came from her back, cutting in between her words, "Steve?"

Steve nervously untangled himself from Y/N as he shyly greeted the woman, "Hi."

The woman continued to stare at Y/N trying to figure out her role and relationship with Steve but before she could get any strange idea, he quickly introduced her, "This is y/n. She's my good friend from home."

A spark of realization glint through her eyes "I see. I'm Peggy. Nice to meet you." She extended her hand towards Y/N, in which Y/N gladly shook it in hers as she reintroduced herself, "You too. I'm y/n."

After the brief exchange of smile between the two ladies, Steve continued to asked Peggy, "What are you doing here?"

Peggy sighed as she explained, "Officially, I'm not here at all." She paused as she picked her words, "I just came by to oversee the situation after the recent attack."

Although Y/N knew what Peggy meant, she was one of the medic staff that had been stitching up the aftermath of that attack after all. However, Steve on the other hand seemed to be lost.

Peggy further explained, "Schmidt sent out a force to Azzano, more than 200 men went up against him and less than 50 returned." She paused, "Your audience contained what's left of the 107th."

Steve's blues widen in realization that almost looked much like panic, "The 107th?"

"What?" Peggy prompt quickly.

Steve then turned his head to Y/N, "Bucky?" He questioned shortly.

But even she was hoping that he'll know something about Bucky, apparently she was wrong, "I tried to ask but I'm not authorized to enter the tent. I was hoping you heard from him."

Seeing the panic in Steve's eyes, she knew that her lover was no where near the safety that she prayed for. But before fear could set in, Steve sprinted out of the tent, "Come on!" he shouted as Y/N and Peggy ran closely behind him.

When they arrived to the tent, fortunately they had the permission to enter with the help of Peggy. "Well, if it isn't the Star-Spangled Man With A Plan. What is your plan today?" Colonel Philips greeted in a teasing manner.

Steve didn't even bother to greet the colonel as he demanded, "I need the casualty list from Azzano." In which the Philips responded, "You don't get to give me orders, son."

Knowing that arguments won't help the situation, he control his tone of voice and spoke, "I just need one name, Sergeant James Barnes from the 107th." He took a short breath and insisted, "Please tell me if he's alive, sir. B-A-R-"

Colonel Phillips stood on his feet as he walked towards a table behind him, "I can spell. I have signed more of these condolence letters today than I would care to count." He paused before turning around to eye on Steve and briefly on the very worried looking nurse next to him.

"But the name does sound familiar. I'm sorry." There was a flash of sincerity in his eyes when he looked towards Y/N.

The optimistic Steve continued to insist more about other possibilities than casualties, "What about the others? Are you planning a rescue mission?" They went back and forth about the what is the 'right' thing to do, "Yes, it's called 'winning the war'. "

And suddenly sound of the heavy rain fall was all Y/N could hear, then comes the booming of her heartbeat as the panic started to deprive her of any optimism, clouding her judgment to think of anything near to positive outcomes such as Steve.

It was getting harder to breath and the anxitey slowly choked her, forcing tears to pool in her eyes. Peggy swiftly took a hold on Y/N, before her knees managed to fall to the ground. The muffled sound of Peggy's voice managed to come through but not enough to wake her from the despair.

Before she knew it, Steve was already gone for an unauthorized rescue mission with the help from Peggy. And ever since, Y/N had spend every waking moment digging her knees into the uneven ground. Her elbows bruised from how hard she propped them on the steel edge of the army green cot. Her palms almost dented to shape of the silver cross as she desperately squeeze it between her hold.

She prayed and prayed for his return. For both of her dearest to be safe, to find their way home.

And for a moment Y/N thought her prayers were graciously granted by God, as the crowd was getter louder and the circle of soldiers were geting thicker when the survivors joined the rest of them. There were chantings of "Captain America" that echoed throughout the base and that gave her relief to know that Steve was safe.

But it was not enough to tame her anxiousness. Y/N's focus has never been sharper when her eyes scanned the crowd, she slithered her way between the jumping joy of the soldiers, grabbing onto some men who she mistook as Bucky until she saw him.

Her heartbeat ramped increasingly as she pushed through the soldiers, finding strength from the blood pumping excitement when she recognize those steel blues and that cheeky smile. Not long before she managed to grab onto his hand and pulled his attention to her.

It was brief but he knew that face anywhere; and suddenly his whole body was engulf into a familiar tight hug that he thought he could never be able to feel again. "James." her voice still stuttered even if it was just one word that came out of her lips.

"y/n?" Bucky called her name, almost in disbelief.

God, she never knew that she was able to miss his voice this much.

"Doll, what you doing here?" He gently lead her away, which she reluctantly followed, "I'm here for you." There was no need of lies now that Bucky was here in her arms.

His gaze soften with a mix of concern and joy, "What do you mean you're here for me?" Bucky couldn't help but to let out a short laugh, "Sweetheart, you do realized that you're in the middle of a war?" His brows quirked as he reminded.

Y/N rolled her eyes. Of course, she realized that. The moment she saw that form for enlistment, she knew. But, it didn't stop her to sign up, does it?

She laced her fingers into his, "I didn't come all the way here to fight with you, James." she whispered as she leaned closer, "So, please just shut up and kiss me."

Bucky might have just realized it now; what a stubborn, demanding, crazy little lover got himself. Though at the same time, she had never charmed him more.

Bucky sighed in defeat before running his tongue on his lower lip, "Well then, come here you little minx" he took her by the head and gave her the most desperate yet sweetest kiss she could never forget.

Brooklyn, 1944 – Promises, promises

It was the day that Steve, Bucky and the rest of the Howling Commandos were depolying to the Austrian Alps for one of the biggest mission since Captain's impulsive rescue mission in Italy last year.

Apparently, Zola was on the move and predicted to be passing though the location while travelling on a train.

This wasn't the first time she had sent Bucky away, but the fear of each always felt like it was her first; especially when she thought about the promise of death that's chained to a soldier's fate.

The closer the time of departure, the stronger her grip on Bucky's uniform becomes. And Bucky didn't need to say anything because he knows her too well; she won't take any of his sweet words as a cure for her distress.

Bucky slowly swayed her from side to side as their embrace tightens with need; her face hidden in the crook of his neck while his arms secured around her waist. He had to smile as it reminded him of their late night dance, barefoot on the kitchen floor of his apartment.

He could feel the teasing gaze coming from his back as well as the whistles of the Howling Commandos playfully making fun of him. Bucky was also well aware of the fact that everyone had made theirs bets on when will the Sargent James B. Barnes finally get down on his knees for his little nightingale of a nurse.

Unsurprisingly, Steve might just win the bet afterall. That punk just had know everything about him.

Y/N closer snuggled into him one last time, "Come home to me, James." She whispered against his skin before pulling away. Teary eyes threatened to spill its salty liquid as she looked up at him, "Promise me."

Bucky's charming smile lighten his features as he leaned to press a kiss in her forehead, "I promise."

Brooklyn, 1945 – Loved and lost

Months gone by, entered the new year, and it always felt like eternity for Y/N. She spent nights kneeling next to her bed and days on the church's floor; practically begging to God for the life of her lover, for keeping him away from death.

And the letters from Bucky also come and goes within those few months' time, with his promises of coming home that's laced in the words of his longing and love for her.

But, little did she knew, that promise met it's end of the bargain when the dreaded letter came to her hands. It came from the man she met back in Italy base, Colonel Phillips, sending the words of condolences for the death Sargent James B. Barnes during his honourable mission at the Austrian Alps.

But the first time she read to words, it didn't even register in her head. It was as if her brain failed to translate the message for her to understand. Y/N had been re-reading the same lines over and over and over until it finally clicked.

The usually bright eyes of hers were now slowly filled with tears, she was in the state of shock; that even if her brain knew exactly what had happened but her heart wasn't ready for it.

The tears started to fall down onto the letter. Drip by drip. And all of the sudden she lost every word that she could ever think of. Her silent scream; suffocating her with each breath she took desperately gripping onto the fragile piece of paper, holding it to her chest hold as if that would help to ease the pain in her heart.

Y/N could feel it in her ripping guts. How all the threads of every joyful memories she could ever once recall; they unraveled in a way that broke her to pieces until they were all but a rumpled of strings scattered about her feet.

A sharp fall had forced Y/N down to her knees, skin digging into the hard floor as her hands trembled silently, clutching onto the letter.

At first when she opened her mouth, there was not a single sound came out as her breath ripped from her lungs. Each left her with scars of loss and every waking minute in this reality was just pure pain.

Her body bend forward until her forehead meets the floor, that was when she wailed; an agonizing scream that left a haunting memory to the neighbours around her apartment.

She cried like there was too much raw pain inside that she could never contained. She cried like her soul needed to break loose from her skin, desperate to release a loathful rage on the world.

But it was more than just crying, it was the sobbing of a woman that drained of all hope. She sank on floor, willing herself to be swallowed by the dread and loss. Just screaming out the agonies that been dancing across her vulnerable veins.

Her chest violently quivered as she was desperately trying to catch the air. She collected every last energy that she had to call out the name of the lover she had loss, "James.." Her gasping breath whispered against the floor, "You promised."

A month later the nation celebrate to the announcement to the end of a war, but to Y/N it was just another wave of mourning grief to a loss of another precious person in her life; Steve.

Amidst the loud sound of cheering and laughter, she rushed away from the crowd to the place that she had put all her faith into. Stumbling through the empty church and falling at the feet of Jesus' statue, Y/N looked up at the face if God with loath, rage, despair, and tears.

The night was brighten to the flashing light from the firework but all she could think of was how similar the sound of it to a firing canon in the war. And the thought of Bucky and Steve run through her mind.

She had been nothing but faithful to the lord, religiously prayed for no more than saving the life of people she held dear to her heart.

But, God thought it would be merciful to let them die.

Y/N harshly ripped the cross necklace from her neck, tearing her skin apart in the process. She gripped on the cross in her hands, much like she would few month back but for completely different reason.

The crimson of her blood tainted her white collar of her nurse uniform as she she cursed the all mighty God for what he had done. Ever since, she swore to herself to never be naive to the illusion of God's mercy ever again.

Washington D.C., 2014 – An old friend

Fate is full with irony and God has his way of twisting them for his own pleasure.

When Y/N died in the 60's, old and unmarried, even if she doesn't believe in God anymore, her dying wish was to be able to meet her lover and friend again.

At least one more time.

But lo and be hold, God had different plans for her. Y/N's body did die that night on the hospital bed but her soul never did. It was as if she was woken up from sleep in another body with the same face as her, that's when she realized she has been reincarnated.

Apparently, she was only born in the same family lineage as her original life; whether coming from her younger brother or cousin or anyone related back to her bloodline. And sharing even the tiniest amount of blood of her own, triggers every single memory from her previous life.

This wasn't what she wanted.

She didn't want to live knowing she cannot be with Bucky.

So on the 2nd life, she did the unthinkable. She took her own life, thinking that she would finally leave the world behind but she didn't.

It happened again.

And again.

So, when she reached her 6th life, she realized that she will never able to meet James and Steve ever again; that was when she went rogue.

Her 6th life was filled with rage and vengeance that she took the idea of life very lightly. So, instead of living until the old days, she searched for revenge and got herself tragically killed in the process.

Now, the 18 year old Y/N was in her 7th life, with a new name that was given by her 7th parents, "Evelyn" , and the spitting image of her 1st life. From her dark raven hair to the light brown of her eyes. This time, she decided to try to accept the cruel fate; the cursed that God had placed on her for the sin that she made decades ago.

Y/N walked around the Smithsomian Museum, specifically at the American history section where they put up Captain America's exhibit. It's been how many lifetimes since she surround herself with knowledge of a past that she once lived.

This was the first time, since her first life. And most probably the last time since she was going overseas in a week to continue her studies in Asia.

She walked along the line up display of the Howling Commandos suits, remembering the living flesh of them as she took steps forward to each, stopping in front of Bucky's.

Flashes of him appeared to where the figure stood; the memories was so vivid that she could still feel fabric of his suit against her, the electrifying feeling on his skin on her own.

She ripped her gaze away just to be greeted by the portrait of Bucky, plastered so hugely on the memorial of one of the Howling Commandos section. Despite the cracking of her heart, her body move on its own; as they knew that deep down, Y/N's heart will always be yearning for her lover.

Her gaze soften with longing and nostalgic as she slowly blink at his features. His considerably messy hair, that little frown that he does to act mysterious for the ladies, and the thin layer of beard that she loved to leave her lipstick marks on.

Y/N's daydream were cut short when someone pulled her by the arm, startling her into a defensive mode. Her 6th life's habit almost broke through when she nearly flipped the man on the floor but thankfully she stopped herself as she recognized those blue eyes.

The man's face looked pale like he had seen a ghost, as he uttered a name that she haven't heard for decades, "y/n?"

"Steve..." she called his name wordlessly.

She knew he was alive. Everybody does, when the news came out in 2011, she was merely a 15 year old kid back then. Apparently, the super soldier serum helped him to survive the ice.

She remembered how her parents rushed to her room when they heard the sudden cluttering sounds of panic upstairs, only to find their daughter on the floor looking pale while her cup of iced coffee spilling in all over her study desk as the viral youtube video of Captain America running through New York city barefoot.

She remembered the feeling of both disbelief and joy that rushed through body as her parents helped her to sit up on her bed. The moment that it sunk into her head, she began to cry. Streams of joyful tears broke from her shaky body, each drop washed the painful burden in her heart as her parents lulled her to sleep.

Y/N never made an effort to meet him after knowing truth because who would've believe her words?

She wasn't Steve. There wasn't any super soldier serum in her blood. There wasn't any tank of chemical that drown her with power.

She was cursed and now she had to live with it.

Meanwhile, Steve seemed to be trapped in a spiralling confusion of his own. He examined each of her features and he had not a single doubt that she has the same face to an old friend in the 40's.

The same friend that he knew died of old age in the 60's.

But, how come the person managed to have the exact same face to hers. Now that he looked closer, she was younger than the last time he saw Y/N. She looked like she was in her teens, "Are you really y/n?" His voice was soft as he muttered.

Y/N bit the insides of her cheeks, holding back the urge of telling him the truth, "Sorry, I think you got the wrong person." she tried to untangle his grasp around the thin of her arm.

Even her voice was similar to Y/N, and she was looking at Bucky's photo like she knew him.

How could she say that she's was not Y/N?

Steve reluctantly let go of her arms and took a step away after seeing the distress on her face, "I-I'm sorry. You remind me of someone I know." He couldn't take his eyes off her.

She was just too similar looking to someone precious that he left behind.

"It's okay, sir." She smiled gently, like the way she usually does when Steve apologizes for his impulsiveness of picking a fight in alleyways. She looked up to the taller man as she continued, "Thank you for being alive..." she hesitated to call him by his name so instead she called for his other name, "...Captain."

She thanked him sincerely before walking away, leaving Steve to reminisce the memories of his life with Y/N and Bucky as he stared at Bucky's memorial.

The next week, she left the United States for Asia where she planned to spend 4 years studying at the National University of Singapore, leaving her past behind in hopes of moving forward with her life, refusing to care about the avengers shenanigans anymore, including her dear friend, Steve.

New York, 2018 – New norms

When half of the population was wiped out from the earth, two of them was Y/N's parents. And like every other people who had lost their loved ones during the blip, her parents sudden absence truly take a toll on her, especially when she was planning to live a long life with them.

After graduating and getting a decent job in Singapore, she was forced to go back to New York when it happened. Y/N couldn't just let her childhood house left abandoned, she simply can't let that happen.

You would thought a person who had multiple lifetimes would be used to losing someone they love but no. It only gets worst as the years go by.

The more Y/N tried to fit into the new norms, the more that she could feel herself slipping into old habits of her 6th life.

Until that one drunken night when she visited the Smithsomian Museum again after years of forcing herself to forget about him; it took her one look at the potrait of Bucky, she knew what she had to do.

Germany, 2023 – An old nemesis

Nearly 5 years into the blip and Y/N was already becoming a legend in the underground scene. They called her the Deathstalker. She never really knew the origin of it but nevertheless she chooses to stick with the newly founded identity.

With the skills she picked up on her 6th life, she easily became the most deadly assassin in the business, seemingly in a constant competition of reputation with the highly popular, black widow assassins.

Though she couldn't care less about who was winning the battle, she only cares about tracking anything or anyone related to Hydra.

After that fateful night at the museum, she couldn't to think that this must be her calling.

If the curse made her technically immortal, then why not became the hunter destined to slay the monster. They said that Hydra will never die, but so was she. And if anything good came out from this curse, then she might as well use it to avenge Bucky.

And bring the old nemesis to the ground.

Her 6th life was similar to this but she wasn't going to make the same mistake. The flaming greed to have her revenge was too strong back then, it lead her to be hasty and clumsy, which then let her to an early death.

But, she's grown out of those immaturity.

Nowadays, she takes her time and still get the job done flawlessly. Just like she is now, when the soft but dark sound of her chuckle, interrupted the silence that had claimed the room.

The poor man was sitting limp on the chair with his body tied with it. He had been like this for seemingly hours with a knife in one of his thighs, which trembled with the vibrations of his body.

More so, when Y/N twisted them, causing a keen of pain to clawed up his throat and spilled out a hoarse groan.

"Where is it?" Her fingers wrapped around the handle, as she watched the man tossed his head, more with fear than trying to answer.

"I don't like to repeat myself." Y/N slid the blade free, causing a noise he would not forget. The man sagged against his bonds, panting as he watched the blood surged and dribbled out of the wound.

But then he felt the prick against his other leg, wide eyes turning to watch as the knife was held above his skin, Y/N's hand flat against the top, ready to push in. "Where the fuck is it?" her tone was eerie as the voice changer in her mask produced an emotionless robotic effect on it.

"I don't know what you're talking about." The thick german accent seethed through his voice as he grunted in pain.

There was only boredom in Y/N's eyes as she gazes straight into his. A stab of the knife went through his thigh without a warning, until the tip of it almost met the flat surface of the chair beneath it.

The whole room echoed with the sound of the whimpering and cries of his struggle, "Please, I swear to God I don't know what you're talking about." He pleaded as fast as he can, when he felt the shortage of breaths in his lungs due to dealing with the excruciating pain.

"Playing dumb isn't going to help you, mutt." She twisted the knife, pulled out and stabbed it again causing him to fall into an almost delirious state, "Please, please please, I swear I don't know anything about the serum." He blurted out of misery.

There it was.

The thing she wanted to hear.

Y/N's eyebrow quirked in interest, "I never mentioned the serum in our conversation, no?"

He fucked up.

He knew that he fucked up.

But, does it matter when his body was searing in pain?

By the end of the intense interrogation, Y/N finally got the intel she needed to find and destroy whatever was left behind by Wilfred Nagel, who was recruited by the CIA to recreate the super soldier serum.

Those greedy fuckers just cannot stay away from things that shouldn't be meddled with. Even Y/N could see the potential threats of a successful recreation the super soldier serum; they were practically asking for Hydra to revive to its glory days.

And she would not allow that to happen.

She needed to destroy it before its finished.

A loud wail left the man's lips, almost sounded a little strained as he had been screaming in pain for hours. Y/N mercilessly grabbed him by his sweaty chin as she pried his mouth open. Knowing exactly what was coming, the man begged, "Oh lord, please please help me please."

Leaning closer she coldly spoke, "The gods doesn't care about you. Trust me I've been there." With a swift strike, she forced her knife down his throat, and a splash of red tainted her mask, nearly got into her eyes but she managed to blink before it does.

She stood still as she watched him gurgle on his own blood as death collected his soul. Wiping the blood away from her eyelid, she walked out of the abandoned building with a mission to finish; all the while blissfully oblivious to the war that the avengers were fighting to their death on the other side of the world.

Madripoor, 2024 – The most prized asset

The returned of her parents were as sudden as the lost. Though she was glad that they were back, however she had to live a double life now that they kept asking about her job and personal life as they wanted to catch up for the lost of time in 5 years.

Y/N felt bad for lying to her parents but it was for their own good. Now, that she had sent them to a honeymoon to travel all over Europe, she felt better in pursuing her mission without concerns.

Besides the joyful return there was also the awful ones.

Now, that Wilfred Nagel was back from the blip. The serum was perfected to its finest version. And was stolen by bunch of kids protesting for equal rights.

What a fucking mess that was.

But, she would deal with that later. The main focus right now was to find the man itself. There would be no more serums if the source is eradicated.

That was her priority.

With her face hidden behind her signature mask, Y/N walked through the messy crowd as she searches for Shelby's men. This should be a short meeting, since Shelby and her had history together; or more to a favour that she owns to Y/N.

However, when she tried to tune in into the hushed conversations in the crowd, she noticed that the murmurs seemed to be divided into two hot topics; one about the sudden appreance of the Deathstalker, which was herself, and second was surprisingly about the return of another notorious assassin.

Then when the conversations died down, a fight suddenly broke out. Y/N hold on the handle of her blades from the side of her thighs, as she stiffed into a defensive mode.

While on the other hand, the crowd seemed to be more interested in recording the fight, than avoiding it.

She seemlessly weaved her way through the people, only to see that the action ended with a man choked onto the table of bar. The attacker's face turned away from her where she could only see his figure from the back.

Then, a gleam of gold caught her attention, Y/N squinted her eyes as she analyzed the man's left arm.

It was not the pattern of the sleeve from his suit.

It was his arm.

A black bionic arm.

Which reminded of her of someone she came across in her 6th life; but his was a tin foil silver with a red star on his upper arm. At the time, he was Hydra's most prized asset, they called him the Winter Soldier.

Part II >>

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: yes, I am well aware that left y'all hanging but I still hope you enjoy this one. Tell me what you think so far, I'm curious if y'all cry at the part where she received the letter or maybe you can comment of something else, I'd still love to hear them ♡

#winterarmyyfics #promise me au #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #40s!bucky #1940s!bucky #tfatws!bucky

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drabblesandimagines · 7 months

Text

Home

Leon Kennedy x female reader I just wanted to write some damsel in distress nonsense with Death Island Leon, but imagine whoever you like! Fluff - though mentions of blood, smatter of death.

Coming to, you feel as if you’re hungover - disorientated, nauseous and a sore head - but that can’t be right, you didn’t drink last night.

It takes a moment to localize the throbbing pain only to the side of your head rather than all over and, as you catch sight of blood smeared against the white tiles of the kitchen floor – something you were desperate to change as white shows up everything - you remember.

You’d been working in the home office. Leon had set it up for himself originally – you’d never been brave enough to research what the price of the beautiful mahogany desk must’ve been, but you’re always sure to use a coaster to avoid marking it. He used a laptop, so he’d insisted you utilize the space instead for your desktop when you moved in over a year ago. It was a nice house, on a quiet, suburban street – he’d bought it as a fixer-upper, a bit of a passion project. The rooms were all in various states of completion but he wanted your opinion and input.

“This is our home,” he’d stressed, before pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Plus, you’ll be here more than me…”

You’d heard of the conspiracy theories surrounding the Raccoon City incident. Who hadn’t stumbled down that rabbit hole before? Leon had confirmed it in vague, half-told recollections of the night a few months into your relationship after an argument about his commitment issues, and you hadn’t pressed further than that since. He told you the bare minimum so you were aware of what his work now entailed, why he had to go away for weeks at a time, why he was so desperate to keep his work and personal life separate for your safety and protection.

He accompanied you when he could to family and friends’ celebrations, charmed them all into forgiving him for his flaky appearances, but they could all see how happy you were since the two of you had got together.

You’d been wearing noise-cancelling headphones as you worked to drown out the next door neighbour’s relentless building works that had started on Monday – a basement leak meant the foundations were being fixed and the noise was horrendous - and had gone to the kitchen to make an ill-advised afternoon coffee and…

Nothing.

Well, the building works have stopped which is a positive, but that doesn’t negate the blood on the floor and your thudding head.

“Mrs Kennedy, I presume.” A man, well-dressed in an awful tight-fitting suit kneels down in front of you. He doesn’t look familiar - blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, a bit of stubble, looking tired, mid-40s, you guessed. You’re confused by the way he’s addressed you – you’re not married, there’s no ring there - and he clocks the bemused expression at once. “Or perhaps you’re his whore, waiting for him to return to your little love nest, hm?”

There’s no good answer or witty comeback so you keep silent, instead trying to raise your hand to feel your head, gage how bad it is – head wounds bleed a lot, you knew that much – but your arm doesn’t comply. Your gaze finds the plastic of the zip-tie cutting into your wrist, holding it snugly against the arm of the chair you’re now seated in - dragged in from the dining room.

“Ah, yes.” He cups your chin, tilting your face back towards him in an effort to get you to focus on him. “A necessary measure. I need you to play the damsel in distress.”

“Leon’s not here,” you reply, quietly, words feeling thick on your tongue though it’s not a lie. “He’s away with work - I don’t know when he’s going to be back.”

“Oh, he’s due home very soon. I couldn’t make such a pretty thing wait for days on end.” He lets go of your chin only to place his hand on your thigh, giving it a light squeeze. You try to jerk away from his touch but find your ankles have received the same treatment as your wrists, though tethered together as if to stop you standing.

“I apologize about your head,” he stands up then, a smug look on his face as he towers over you. “I did tell my men to be gentle, but it appears one misunderstood.”

You shuffle in the chair in a pitiful attempt of relieving the pressure on your wrists. “Who are you?”

He clucks his tongue. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

“Kennedy’s ETA is four minutes, sir.” A gruff voice states from behind you.

“Excellent.” Your captor smiles. “I suppose he was hoping to surprise you with his arrival, hm? Nice that we can turn the surprise around on him.” He snaps his fingers at one of his subordinates, “You can gag her now.”

A hand yanks your hair, forcing your head back and you gasp only for a wad of fabric to be stuffed behind your teeth. You try and push it out with your tongue on instinct but another bit of fabric is forced between your lips, keeping it snugly in place as it’s knotted at the back of your head, causing you to whimper – or at least attempt - when he brushes up against your head wound.

There’s a hive of activity around you – the three grunts getting into position, checking their ammo. They can’t just plan to shoot Leon outright, surely. Why would he need a damsel otherwise? Your captor grabs the back of your chair and drags it, positioning it in line with the hallway door, meaning that you will be the first thing he sees. He places his hands on your shoulders and squeezes.

“Showtime.”

Your heart is pounding so loud it’s all you can now hear – maybe it’s so loud Leon will hear with that incredibly sensitive hearing he has before he opens the door, know something’s wrong and get the hell out of here.

No such luck, though. The building work next door hasn’t resumed, so you can hear him cut the engine in the driveway, hear when the Jeep door opens and closes, hear the jingle of his keys in the door. He has his eyes cast down when he enters, immediately turning to the lock the door behind him out of both security and habit.

“Sweetpea?” He sounds upbeat, happy as he calls for you and it breaks your heart all the more when he turns, eyes meeting yours. “Fuck.” He breathes out, taking a hurried step forward, hand automatically reaching for his pistol still holstered on his belt. A loud click pierces through your left ear, cold metal prods into the side of your temple and Leon freezes in place.

“Uh-uh, Kennedy. Unless you wanna see your lovely lady’s brains splattered all over the floor, I’d drop that right now.”

Leon doesn’t hesitate, holding his hands above his head and dropping the pistol to the ground, hitting the wooden floorboards with a thunk.

“Keep those hands up and kick it over.”

Leon complies, kicking the pistol so it skids down the hallway, swiftly collected by one of the grunts.

“Dante.”

“Oh, I’m flattered you remember little ol’ me. Come - join us.” The gun leaves your temple but the fear remains as Leon slowly strides up the hallway, hands still in the air. “Pull Kennedy up a chair and make sure he’s comfortable.” A grunt ducks into the dining room and emerges with one the armless chairs, placing it down heavily on the kitchen tile as Leon enters. He’s swiftly smacked across the face with the butt of a gun, followed up by a punch to the stomach, causing him to double over. Another grunt grabs his arms, yanking them behind his back and you know by the way his biceps tense that he could break out of that hold easily enough, but he’s choosing not to.

You feel horrible that you’re the reason why he’s not.

He’s pushed down onto the chair and his wrists are quickly secured behind his back with a zip tie through the wooden slats. He lifts his head up to reveal a bloodied lip, but his eyes are immediately on you as he speaks.

“She has nothing to do with me and you, Dante.”

“Oh, I know that.” He scoffs, digging his fingernails into your shoulder once more. “But your little sweetpea is so useful in making sure that you remain on your very best behaviour.”

“You’ve got me now, okay?” Leon shrugs his shoulders in demonstration. “Let her go.”

“Aw,” Dante tuts. “Did you think you had her out of harm’s way, Kennedy? Kept your personal life underwraps? Granted I couldn’t quite confirm her name, but here we are all the same. Pretty little thing – shame she had to get wrapped up with you.”

“What do you want?” You can tell Leon’s annoyed, though he keeps his voice measured.

“The Apollo files.”

Leon raises an eyebrow, scoffing. “I don’t ha- Ugh!” The grunt in front of him had pistol-whipped him once more, his nose now bleeding a little in consequence.

“Next time you tell a lie, your woman is going to get the same treatment.” You grip the armrests in apprehension and Leon once again tenses as he notes your discomfort.

“Okay, okay! They’re in the attic. One of the storage boxes up there – there’s not many. Against the south wall.”

“Good boy.” Dante chuckles, ruffling his hand through the agent’s hair condescendingly. “You two - with me,” he points at two of his men, before turning to the third. “You, keep an eye on the lovebirds.”

“Be careful where you step up there – I haven’t put in a permanent floor. Been busy.” Leon retorts.

“Aw, boys, he’s worried we’ll hurt ourselves.” He grabs Leon by the chin then, squeezing his cheeks. “We’ll be right back. I wouldn’t want to keep this lovely lady waiting any more than she has to.”

He shoves Leon’s face to the side and heads out to the hallway, the two grunts following as the third remains in position to the side, gun in hand.

“I’m so sorry, sweetpea, but I’ll get you out of this – I swear.“ Leon says softly, turning his head to the side to look at you. “Okay?”

You nod – there’s little else you can do – but you know you’re shaking. You hate yourself for doubting him, but you can’t see how the two of you are getting out of this in one piece. He doesn’t say anything more, his eyes flitting from one direction to another as he calculates his moves for what feels like hours.

The building work next door resumes – a loud drilling echoing around the kitchen. The grunt winces at the sound and Leon gets to his feet, arms still bound around the dining chair and headbutts him, sending him stumbling back, blood gushing from a broken nose. Leon spins then, slamming the chair against the marble countertops, splintering the wood and releasing himself from the chair. He then jumps again, tucking his legs impressively close to his chin, though letting out a strangled grunt and his bound hands are now in front of him. He lifts up his knee, tenses his biceps and slams it down, the zip-tie splintering across the floor – all in the time it takes the grunt to come to his senses and aims his gun blindly, sending bullets thankfully in every direction but yours.

Leon ducks and dives, swiftly grabbing the grunt around the neck with an arm and holding it tight, cutting off his air supply until he goes limp in his arms and he grabs hold of the man’s gun, quickly checking the cartridge with one smooth downward motion.

A bullet sails over his shoulder as one of the grunts returns from upstairs and Leon quickly takes him out with a headshot. You divert your eyes then, not wanting to see. It’s them or you – you know that – but it doesn’t make the act easier to witness.

It is barely a second before another gunshot rings out, followed by a second - Dante and the remaining man at the kitchen doorway, though the grunt goes down as quickly as he entered due to Leon’s return fire.

Dante’s face is furious, his gun aimed squarely at your head and he pulls the trigger. Leon sidesweeps the chair legs from under you, sending the chair toppling backwards and you with it, your head smacking once more against the tile and making your ears ring and vision dance with black. The bullet soars over your head and into the kitchen cabinet.

There’s another gunshot, a horrible, squelching sound, and then a series of grunts and groans – flesh on flesh – but you can’t look up, can’t see what’s going on as a succession of gunshots ring out and there’s the sound of a body hitting the floor.

There’s the clatter of a drawer being opened frantically and then, suddenly, Leon is above you – his shoulder bloody – and a knife in his hand. He lifts your head up gently, cutting through the back of the gag and pulls it away from your mouth, fishing out the fabric that had been making you feel close to choking.

“You’re okay, I’ve got you.” He says softly as you catch your breath, taking glorious mouthfuls of air. “Stay still, okay? I’ll get these off you.” He presses the blade against your wrist with a careful flick and you’re released from the first of your restraints. He makes quick work of your other wrist and the ones around your ankles, pulling you up into his arms, cradling you in his lap.

“I’m so sorry,” he mumbles, rocking you back and forth. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Leon, it’s-”

“Don’t say it’s okay. It’s not okay. I promised to never get you mixed up in this. I don’t know how they found this place, how they found you. I’ve been so fucking careful, baby.” His voice breaks, along with your heart.

“I know you have.” You try and soothe. “It’s not fair, but it’s not your fault, sweetheart. I love you.”

He presses his lips to yours then, kissing you softly. “Love you too – so much. Feel so selfish.”

“Uh-uh, no – you deserve to be happy. I want to make you happy.”

“You do, sweetpea, but-“

“If I can’t say it’s okay, you can’t go down this road either and we both can’t pout about it.”

He sniffs, rolls his eyes and you finally remember the blood patch on his shoulder.

“Did you get shot?” He shakes his head. “Grazed me. I’m fine. You, however, need a full check-up.”

“If I’m having one, you’re having one too. We can have a date to the emergency room.”

He laughs – it’s nice to hear, to see the smile reaching his eyes. “I owe you a much better date than that.”

“Nah – maybe they’ll put you in a hospital gown.”

He raises an eyebrow.

“What?” You bite your lip.

“The ones that don’t tie at the back?”

“Oh, don’t they? Interesting.”

He kisses you again then, with a bit more passion than before. “Baby, you do not have to get me in a hospital gown to see my ass.”

“Who said anything about seeing your ass? Get your head out the gutter, Mr Kennedy.”

Leon rolls his eyes once more, getting to his feet with ease with you still in his arms. He pushes your face into his chest as he walks towards the front door.

“Leon, no, you need to rest your shoulder. Put me down - I can walk.”

“Don’t want you to see.” He murmurs. “I’m gonna get you in the Jeep, call work quickly – they’ll come sort this mess – then straight to the hospital.”

You keep quiet then, closing your eyes and inhaling his scent as you nuzzle your head against his chest, a realisation hitting you.

“We won’t be coming back here, will we?”

He pauses, fiddling with the keys in lock.

“I’m sorry. I know you were finally feeling at home here and-”

“No.” You cut him off. “Home is us together – wherever. Okay?”

“Yeah.” He opens the door. “You’re right. Home is with you, sweetpea.”

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#ghostdogwrites #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you

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cakexblankett · 3 months

Text

Lap dance

Character

Larissa Weems

Rating

Red

Words

1.804

~•~

It was a chill sunday evening when you received a message from Possum.

Possum:

Wish you could be here with me, mommy is feeling very naughty tonight.

10:30 PM

You bit your lip, reading the message again and again.

You had been texting this misterious woman, who called herself Possum, for a couple of months now. It all started innocently, she found you on Tumblr and sent you a message. You remained intrigued by her, her way of texting was sweet and passionate, especially when she talked about what she liked- fashion shows and fashion in general, she could go hours telling you about it.

You stalked her account; she reposted pictures of cats, and, obviously, fashion related posts. She seemed innocent but refined. Soon enough, you found out she wasn't that innocent after all.

She started asking you personal questions, at first normal one, like what was your colour or your favourit dish, then getting more insidious, like what was your favourite position in bed or if you liked to be toped.

You didn't mind, you took a liking to her, so you replied truthfully, knowing she would do the same. And before you knew it, she started wanting you to call her mommy and even asked you if you would be willing recording you touch yourself. You declined, but not because you didn't trust her or because you were ashamed or shy about it, but you would have prefered leaving this kind of things for when you would meet in real life.

You:

Then maybed I should come over and make mommy feel good.

10:35 PM

It was time to get things in motion and see who you were talking to. You imagined she was a beautiful woman, she said she was in her forties, and you loved middle aged women, so that was surely a point in her favour- and in yours. You imagined she was a freak in bed- all those messages she sent you, about how she would have liked to try different positions with you, made you certain she was a beast in making love.

You waited for her reply, while your thoughts filled with fantasies of her touching you. You didn't even know how she looked but that didn't stop you from dreaming.

Possum:

I'll send you my location. Don't make mommy wait.

10:40 PM

You jumped off your bed and ran towards your wardrobe. You were wearing your pajama, so it was evident that you needed to change. What to wear, though, was a dilemma. You wanted something that would have caught her eye, something luxurious, sexy, but easy to be undressed from.

After a while, you opted for a tight skirt and a blouse- you left the first three buttons unbottuned. You wore a choker with the word "pet" spelled on it.

You smiled, calling a taxi and giving the driver the adress. The ride there was torture, you nimbled on your bottom lip, thinking of all the ways she would make you come undone. You were already feeling the ache, the need to feel her touch all over you.

Once arrived, you paid the taxi driver and texted Possum.

You:

I'm here.

11:19

You looked around you. The neighborhood was quiet and you could tell from the villas and expensive houses that she was rich like everybody else there.

You glanced at your phone, seeing that she read your text. You waited for a second, before the door in front of you opened and your breath itched in your throat.

Before you stood the most beautiful woman you had ever layed eyes upon. Her white hair was in an introcate updo, her plump lips were painted a sinful shade of red. Her blue eyes were watching you curiously and hungryly. She was tall, very tall and she wore a tight, beige dress, that accentuated her curves in a delicious way. You imagined she was beautiful, but she was divine, she was more than you could have ever dreamed of.

"Please, do come in."

You smiled, making your way into her house. It was huge and well decorated. She wasn't lying when she said she liked fashion. Everything was curated meyiculously, every detail added to the perfection of the interior.

"This is nice. You are nice."

She raised an eyebrow, smiling. You were so nervous, you felt your cheeks flush red.

"Am I just "nice" or do I make you feel something more... carnal?"

You gulped. You had just met her and yet you were ready feeling inebriated by her. It made you feel dizzy, like you were dreaming, but you hoped it was really real, that she wasn't just a fantasy born from your imagination.

"You make me feel everything at once."

She hummed and you had to close your eyes, the sound going straight to your core. Her voice was something otherworldly. Her english accent made her sound refined, and her voice was sweet and low, making you feel like a sailor at sea, called by a siren. You were doomed, you could have easily fell for a woman like her. Maybe you already did.

You opened your eyes at the feeling of her hand on your throat. You gasped, her fingers tracing the letters on your choker. She giggled, an exquisite sound that you wanted to hear more of.

"My little pet."

You watched her lips move whilst she said that, feeling the need to know how soft they were. Her hand closed gently around your neck, squeezing gently. You let out a moan, watching as Larissa's eyes grew darker. Then her lips clashed on yours, it was so fast you could have missed it if it wasn't that now you two were kissing, and her lips were soft as feathers, your wanted to stay like that forever.

Her tongue swept on your bottom lip, asking for entrance, and you gave it to her. Her tongue didn't have to battle with yours for dominance, because you were more than alright being the one seduced and dominated. The fact that a woman like her wanted you made your ego reach up the stars.

"Come."

She took her hand and led you up the stairs, to her bedroom. The room was spacious but almost empty. There was a huge painting on one wall depicting two women having sex. It was beautifully made, it almost looked like a photograph. There was a kingsized bed, who screamed for you to use it.

She kissed you again, more gently than before, and started unbottuning your blouse.

"If you're not feeling comfortable, tell me to stop and I will."

You shook your head, helping her undress you.

"I want this, I want you."

She gave you a quick peck on the lips before taking off your blouse. The skirt followed it on the floor. She took two steps back, glancing at you.

"Hm beautiful."

You blushed, her compliment meant the world to you. She made you sit on the side of the bed, then she slowly started taking off her dress. Her legs were long and toned, almost in contrast with her pale complexion that made her look like she made out of porcelain. When she remained in her undergarments, she sat on your lap and began moving on you, giving you a lap dance. It was funny, her, the tall and mature one, giving you, the small and young one, the lap dance. But you didn't complain.

She knew what she was doing, roaming her hands on your body, her hot breath on your ear. You clasped your hands on her butt, helping her move easily on you.

"Tell me what you need."

Her whisper made you shiver.

"Fuck me."

She stopped her motions and got off you. She kneeled and opened your legs. You moaned at the sight. She looked at you with doe eyes while she took off your panties. The fresh air hit your wet center and you whimpered. She stroked your folders with two fingers, feeling just how ready you were to be taken.

"Is this the effect mommy has on you?"

You nodded frantically, seeing her on her kneew, between your legs, made you horny like nothing else could.

"Do you want mommy to make you feel good?"

You nodded again, letting out a small moan. She was so hot, so seductive, you wondered if she was ever like this or if she learned to be.

"Say it."

"I want mommy to make me feel good."

"Hm good pet."

She licked your slit, latching on your clitoris, sucking at it and swirling her tongue around it. Waves of pleasure washed over you, you felt euphoric. She swept her tongue one last time on your bundle of nerves before entering you with two fingers. You let out a whimper, grasping the sheet under you. She curled her fingers inside you, making you see stars.

"Good girl, taking me so well."

You were a moaning mess, soon you felt the orgams wash over you. She helped you ride it, still moving gently inside you.

"Such a good pet, did mommy make you feel good?"

"You made me feel more than good."

She smirked, taking out her fingers. She put them in her mouth, looking at you straight in the eyes. She moaned, tasting you on her digits. Your pupils dilated, feeling yourself grow needy once more.

"Do you want to make mommy feel good too?"

She took off her undergarments, and positioned herself between your legs. Her clitoris touched yours, and you felt a jolt of electricity run in your veins. She started slowly moving her hips, the friction making you whimper. Your clitoris was still sensitive, but it felt good to feel her moving on top of you.

"Hm you're going to make mommy come."

She started riding you faster, her hips swaying up and down quickly. In a matter of minutes, you two were pn the edge.

"Come with me, make me hear you scream my name."

You only needed a few more movements and you both came.

"Larissa!"

She layed beside you, giving you a quick kiss on the forehead. You hugged her, feeling her warm skin touch yours. You could get used to this.

"It was awesome."

She laughed.

"You had doubts?"

You smiled, shaking your head. She cupped your cheek. You tried to take a picture of her in your mind. Her lipstick smeared, her updo slowly falling apart. She somehow looked better than before.

"If you want to, you can stay the night."

"I would love to."

You both smiled. You felt incredibly lucky to have met her, and you knew that night was the start of something far bigger and marvelous than you could have predicted.

#fanfiction #ff #lesbian #actress #gay #gxg #larissa x reader #larissa weems x reader #larissa weems #wednesday netflix #wednesday addams #gwendoline christie x reader #gwendoline christie #x reader

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becca-e-barnes · 2 years

Note

do you have any pornstar dbf!bucky thots👀

The Video

I've had this thought in my head all damn day and I just needed to write it. I'll link this piece on both my Dad's Best Friend!Bucky master list and the Pornstar!Bucky master list because I don't want to choose.

Consider this the piece I wrote to celebrate my birthday today 💗 here’s to 23 with you lovely folks! 🥂

Pairing: Pornstar! Dad's Best Friend!Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 3K

Summary: You find out what your father’s best friend does for work.

Warnings: Age gap (reader is in her mid 20’s, Bucky is in his late 40’s), vaginal fingering, masturbation, unprotected sex, creampie, size kink, praise kink, mentions of rough pornography, dirty talk, pet names, degradation

Minors, do not interact

Avoiding Bucky had never been your plan, purely because it would’ve been a fucking stupid one. Realistically, it wouldn’t have been easy to avoid someone who probably spent more time at your house than they did their own. When he wasn’t at ‘work’, your father’s friend seemed to spend his time at your house, mowing the lawn or polishing your mom’s car or watching some pointless sports game with your dad.

You’d never really questioned what Bucky got up to for work. You imagined growing up that he must’ve practiced a trade since he was always the one your father called to fix the kitchen sink when it sprung a leak or tinker with the garage door when it became difficult to pull down.

Now that you were fully clued in however, it all made painful sense why Bucky had been so evasive when you had come right out and asked him what he did for work the year before you graduated from college.

“What do you think I do, sweetheart?” He had asked with a smirk tugging at the corners of his soft, pink lips.

“I have no idea, Buck! You seem to have as much free time as you like, I just don’t understand how you pay the bills.” You had mused, sitting in your own garage on a work bench, swinging your legs in front of you, secretly hoping that Bucky would notice just how cute and tiny those shorts you were wearing are. Unfortunately for you, he didn’t look up from under the bonnet of your dad’s jeep.

“I guess you could say I’m self-employed, angel. I pick and choose the jobs I want. I have plenty of offers.” He tried to keep it as non-descript as possible, dodging the question rather than lying about it.

“I bet you do, you seem good with your hands.” He could tell by the genuine innocence in your voice that you truly had no idea. You weren’t leading him to answer one way or another.

He huffed out a laugh as he grabbed the rag beside him, wiping the oil from his hands, muddying the white cloth with the dark residue. “Oh sweetheart, you have no idea.”

It all made perfect sense now though, scrolling through picture after picture on your phone. Every drag of your fingertip brought a fresh wave of video thumbnails, each somehow more obscene than the last. The titles certainly weren’t much better.

Pictures of beautiful young women flooded your screen. Some had their makeup thoroughly ruined, mascara tracked down their cheeks and a fucked-out look in their eyes. Some were on their knees, their hair grabbed into a rough ponytail while they rested the tip of a cock on their tongue. Some were bent over, evidently ‘trapped’ under their bed with their ass in the air.

Curiosity got the better of you, after ignoring a warning from your brain that this might be an invasion of Bucky’s privacy. It was all posted on the internet after all, it’s not like he could keep it a secret forever.

One video caught your eye, titled ‘James Barnes fucks tight brunette, HUGE cumshot’. The crude objectification made you wince a little but the short snippet of video that the thumbnail provided you with seemed a little bit gentler than the rest.

Skipping the first few minutes helped you feel like you weren’t too invested. This was research. Plain and simple nosiness. You had no intention of watching this for any purpose other than to see whether Bucky Barnes had perfected his craft or not.

“Shit, that’s it. So fuckin’ pretty like this.” The voice from your phone was familiar but so much lower than you’d ever heard it before; so deep, you could only have described it as a growl.

The girl whimpered, almost pathetically. You couldn’t blame her. Bucky wasn’t small by any stretch of the imagination and judging by the reaction of the woman he was buried inside, he managed to hit all the spots he needed to.

You’d heard fake moans before. Hell, you’d made plenty of them yourself. Enough to know that the woman you were watching wasn’t orchestrating hers for the benefit of the camera. No, those were real. Right down to the trembling thighs either side of Bucky’s narrow hips.

“You have no idea how perfect you feel. Tight and wet and warm. You take me so fuckin’ well.” You watched as he slid inside her, painfully slowly. Admittedly, her body did take him well, letting him sink in until he had nothing left to give. This poor woman was already looking somewhat blissed out, begging him to fuck her but that’s when you skipped forward to about a minute before the end. That same woman was now clawing at his muscular back, whimpering and sobbing delightfully while Bucky pounded into her. He wasn’t holding back in the slightest, letting the same filth tumble from his lips.

“Oh baby, you sound like you can’t take any more. Are you done?” He was so condescending, it made your gut tighten with lust, a dull throb settling between your legs but the woman only shook her head.

“Good girl. God, ’m so close. You’ll never get enough, will you? Just a needy fucking slut for me. Gonna have you all cock obsessed. Bet you’ll think of me every time you touch that pretty pussy of yours from now on. You’ll be begging to see me again.” Bucky sounded wrecked, finishing his sentence with a drawn out, low groan. Within a couple of seconds, he had pulled out, splashing his seed all over the woman’s tummy, pearlescent spend rolling down her sides and onto the sheets while some pooled on her heaving chest.

Over the next few days, you tried desperately to get what you had seen out of your head. You tried hard, you really did. Perhaps it didn’t help that late at night, you found yourself going back to watch more. Perhaps it also didn’t help that you found your hand drifting under your panties as you watched, taking care of that familiar throb that seemed to turn into an ache when you watched for too long without touching yourself.

Dodging Bucky was simple enough but you knew you couldn’t keep it up forever. Hiding in your room couldn’t become a hobby just because you found out your father’s best friend, the older man you had been so innocently crushing on, was a porn star.

The first time you bumped into him though, it was game over. He could tell just from the way you looked at him that something was up, or rather, the way you couldn’t look at him.

“Everything okay, sweetheart?” He asked, watching you make yourself look busy in the cereal cupboard late one afternoon after he had walked into your kitchen. You saw him coming and very obviously tried find any excuse that meant you wouldn’t have to talk to him.

“I’m fine, looking for cereal.” You replied, your head almost buried in the cupboard.

“Well, I hope you find it. If you can’t see it from there, you’ve got a problem. I bet your nose is practically touching the box, you’re so deep in there.” He sounded too damn amused and it only made you more embarrassed. This really was the last thing you needed. “Why are you avoiding me, honey?”

There it was. You were called out.

“I’m not!” You tried to sound sincere but you weren’t awfully successful; you knew even as you were saying the words that it wasn’t going to fly.

“Mhm, and the fact you saw me coming has nothing to do with how you’re buried shoulder deep in the cereal cupboard? Don’t think I’m stupid. I know you’re avoiding me.” In hindsight, you maybe could’ve handled that a little bit better but now here you were, pulling yourself back out and forcing some painfully awkward eye contact.

“I’ve seen the videos.” You mumbled, looking away and making yourself busy with your nails.

“Okay.” He dragged the word out a little, slowing it down and only adding to it’s gravity. “And? You’re an adult. You know what porn is. Things don’t need to be weird but if you’re uncomfortable having me around, I can leave you alone.”

“No, you don’t have to, I don’t have a problem with it. It’s all just very… Rough?” You weren’t really sure this was a conversation you wanted to be having, shame burning in the pit of your stomach because clearly you’d just admitted to watching more than a video or two.

He paused for a second, nodding his head, the couple of light grey hairs at the crown of his head glinting in the light. “You’re right, sweetheart. It's a little rough at times. That’s not my preference, that’s the script I’m given.”

That made sense and somehow settled you just a little. “So you just stick to the script?” You quiz, holding eye contact with him again for a few seconds before it got too intense.

“For the most part. It doesn’t tell me what to say, that’s all up to me. It just gives me direction. It’s a running order of the scenes we’ve agreed to shoot. Most of those videos certainly aren’t a representation of how I would want to fuck if I got the choice.” His lips were curled in a soft smile, watching you lap this all up.

“A-and how would you want to fuck if you got to choose?” You couldn’t quite believe you’d said it but apparently you did because the question hung in the air longer than you might have wanted it to.

“Well sweetheart, that depends. I’d treat a pretty little thing like you a bit differently. I’d have to be slow with you. Really ease you into it. I bet I’d have to spend a lot of time working you up to take me. I think I’d start by giving you my tongue until I can slip a finger into you. Then a second finger. Maybe a third if I think you can manage it.” He could see the effect this was having on you. You’d wanted to imagine it while you’d watched his videos but you couldn’t bring yourself to fall into the fantasy. Now he was dragging you into it.

“Then I’d put you on your hands and knees. I’d tell you to rub yourself while I press inside you, so slow you’ll be begging me to give you all of me. And when you’re at that point, ruined and desperate for more, I’ll fuck you nice and slow. I’ll have you just as addicted as those other girls but with a kinder pleasure. I’d tell you how beautiful you are and how badly I’ve wanted to kiss every inch of your skin I can. I’d tell you how gorgeous you look when you cum and how it’s better than I ever imagined.”

God, this was something close to a dream come true. “I-I’d like that. That sounds… Nice.” Words were really failing you, hoping this was a genuine offer and not just some hypothetical situation that would never play out.

“It does sound nice.” Bucky huffed out a laugh. “It sounds real fucking nice. I shouldn’t want my best friend’s daughter cumming around me. I know I shouldn’t. I know I think about it far too often but nothing gets me off the way you do.”

Your breath caught in your throat, an embarrassing arousal throbbing its way around your body, settling in the pit of your stomach. Heat blossomed in your chest, hoping beyond hope that this wasn’t some sick joke.

“I want that. But I don’t want you to be too gentle. I want you to fuck me the way you want to fuck. Not what you think I need.” Your confidence almost caught him off guard and he didn’t expect to find it as sexy as he did.

“God, you’re a tease.” He muttered under his breath, crossing the short space between you both to crash your lips against his. You could feel the heat of his body against yours, the difference in size almost making you shudder because you’d never felt this small against a partner.

His lips were soft, his hands wandering seemingly everywhere at once and it was so much to take in. Fuck, it was perfect. Intense and hungry but not overwhelming.

“Bed, Buck.” You pant between fervent kisses before he’s grabbed you by the back of the thighs, helping you wrap your legs around his waist so he could carry you to your room.

You both had your clothes stripped off in a frenzy, not giving much thought to anything other than the way your lips slotted together. Your bottom lip felt perfectly at home between his teeth, the slight pain of his bite only making you moan.

“You’re such a good girl.” He whispers, tugging your panties off and groaning when he realises how slick they are already. “Fuck, I should’ve known how bad you’d need this. It’s always the ones you least expect.”

His breath feels so hot on your neck, littering the skin with kisses and gentle nibbles, panting tiny groans against you while his fingers slide over your core.

You’re wet and messy, aching with a need you didn’t know you were capable of. “Oh sweetheart, I could slip right into you. You’re soaking wet for me. God, you’re a dream.”

“Buck, please. I want your tongue later. P-please just fuck me first.” You could hardly manage a conhesive thought with the way his fingertips played with your body ever so gently, alternating between rubbing little circles on your clit and teasing your hole with the tips of two fingers, pressing them in just to the first knuckle.

“This is wrong, sweetheart. So fucking wrong. I shouldn’t get this fuckin’ excited hearing you beg for my dick but it’s all I’ve wanted for months.” His voice is just as low as you heard in those videos, dripping with arousal.

“The only thing ‘wrong’ here is the fact you’re not inside me yet.” You giggle quietly, rolling over and presenting your ass to him, exactly how he had described earlier.

Whatever self-control he had was gone. Long gone. The sight of you offering your slick, hot core was more than enough to ruin him but the way you watched him over your shoulder with an excited smile almost had him trembling with need.

“This is wrong.” He whispered, lining the tip of his dick up with your entrance, grunting at the feeling of the wet heat.

“So wrong.” You repeated quietly. “S-so fucking wrong. We shouldn’t be doing this.” You were breathless already, pressing yourself back until his tip had just slipped inside you. “We shouldn’t need this as badly as we do.”

Bucky’s groan was beautiful, watching as you shifted yourself back to allow the rest of his length to slide slowly into you.

“You know damn well what you’re doing to me.” He sighed, looking away from the sight of his thick length gliding home. “Play with yourself. I won’t last long this time sweetheart but trust me, I’ve got all night with you.”

You’d never seen him this wrecked so early on in any of his videos so you did as you were told, letting two fingers circle your clit the way you often did when you watched him slide into those other women.

You heard him take a deep breath, pulling back out as far as possible without slipping out before pressing back in again, dragging a soft groan from both of you. This was everything you’d both longed for and more.

His huge hands squeezed the cheeks of your ass, admiring the how soft and plush it felt under his touch, dragging himself back out only to press back in, earning another groan.

You could’ve taken this forever, enjoying the way his tip nudged that delicate spot inside you while your fingers worked exactly how you like them to. This was bliss in its truest form. This was the passion you had craved, the gentle touches and soft praises but accompanied by an all-consuming pleasure.

“Faster Bucky, please.” You whined and hell, you looked like a goddess, fallen forward onto the bed, so consumed by sensations that you wanted to have no control over and he could recognise that so clearly.

“Tell me you need me.” He panted, speeding up his thrusts, letting each one land beautifully before forcing himself momentarily from the heat of your body once more.

“Oh God, I need you. I need you, Bucky. I need you to fuck me faster. Fuck me harder. It feels so good. I’m gonna cum for you, I just need more.” You couldn’t help but sob, drowning in the litany of groans and curses falling from the older man lips.

Your fingers worked faster, in time with the thrusts you were receiving until it all come crumbling down around you. The knot in your tummy tightened unbearably, your heart pounding as the sensation took over entirely. It was a perfect release, your body clenching and tightening rhythmically while you sobbed the ecstasy into the pillow under your head.

“Oh good girl, that’s it. Cum nice ‘n hard. O-oh God.” You vaguely registered Bucky coaching you through your orgasm before reaching his own but unlike any of his videos, he didn’t pull out. He stayed buried inside you, pressed as deep as he could go. You felt the weight of his seed inside you, the position allowing it to drip deeper, pooling at your cervix and the thought alone made you shudder.

“My God, that was…. Wow.” He laughed, kissing down your spine before pulling out and flopping onto the bed beside you.

“Yeah… Wow.” You giggled, kissing his cheek and curling up against him, not really worried that you were both a little sweaty.

“I meant it though. I’ll be gentle with you later. I’ll take my time with you. I just needed that.” He kissed your forehead, running a hand down your back and damn, he certainly wouldn’t hear you complaining.

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alwaysf0rev3r · 2 years

Note

Okay what about a Bucky x reader where buckys had a long day and the reader can tell so she dresses up like a 40’s pinup girl for him?

pairings: bucky barnes x reader

warnings: m in f penetration, handjob, fingering, creampie, eating cum, unprotected sex, slight degredation, praise

a/n: GIRL WHEN I SAW THIS IN MY ASKSSSS YOU KNOW I HAD TO DO IT!! this idea is so hot god i love it!! thank u so much for requesting

Bad day at work. I’m gonna be home late. I need a drink. A lot of them. Go to sleep without me, I’ll be home later, I just need to be alone. I love you.

You looked at the text on your phone then up to yourself over and over again in nervousness. You wanted to leave him alone, it was what you always did on his bad days when he came home upset. But giving him space never did anything, it only enabled him being upset for days on end, and it was hard for you to watch him struggle.

Today you tried something different. You wanted to make it about him. Everything was about you, what he cooked, what he did, even the bedroom, but not tonight.

You couldn’t help but remember him mentioning what magazines and girls the soldiers looked at back in the war, he even showed you an old magazine Steve had found. He was joking, only trying to show you memories, but the image was burnt in your mind. Solider Buck, hand in pants, starting at the girls he didn’t know in magazines.

Which is why you had on a semi long red dress with white polka dots. It was skin tight on your upper half, accentuating the size of your waist, and and it flowed waist down. It matched well with your red lipstick and soft makeup, along with your lightly curled hair.

You look like a girl in an old magazine.

When the door opened, you knew that was it, there was no turning back. You stayed still, trying not to let your overthinking get the best of you. You stayed seated on the counter, eating chocolate you had from a week back that Bucky brought for you.

His eyes were on the floor, but he tilted his head up at the realization of your presence, his eyes widening. He wanted to feel confused, but he was too amazed to feel it. You looked perfect, sprawled out on the kitchen island in a little 50s dress for him, “What are you wearing?”

“I found this in my closet,” you lied, knowing damn well you bought it days prior to surprise him. You dangled your legs over the edge of the counter, watching Bucky get closer, “Do you like it?”

“Yes,” he answered embarrassingly quickly, “You look beautiful.”

“I wanted to look pretty for you,” you smiled, grabbing chocolate from the tray and grabbing his arm to pull him closer. You grabbed his face with one hand and used your other to gently put the chocolate to his mouth. He opened his mouth slightly and grabbed the chocolate from your hand, watching you suck the residue off your fingers, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” he smiled, not sure how to react. He was so used to silence and solitude when he had a hard day at work or on a mission, but this was a different feeling for him.

“How was work?”

“Bad,” he scoffed, brushing the hair from your face, “No body got hurt or anything, it was just a mistake I made. I kept insisting on something and it turned out I was wrong and we all just argued. It was annoying.”

“I’m sorry, Buck,” you frowned, leaning in to press a kiss to his frowned lips, “Maybe I could make you feel better.”

His eyebrows furrowed but quickly raised in realization when you grabbed the belt loops on his pants to tug him closer, “I just want to take care of my favorite soldier.”

He looked speechless, mouth slightly agape in hesitance. He wanted to, God, in your outfit he wanted nothing more than that, but he was so used to the bedroom always being about you. He loved it that way, he loved making every move about making you shake beneath him, it was all he wanted to know. But your offer was tempting, “Let me take care of you.”

He nodded softly, his eyes glistening as you went in to press a kiss to the end of his jaw, then prickle more to his neck. You sucked on his neck softly as you gripped the bottom of his shirt, which he was quick to remove. He grabbed your waist and kept you planted on the counter as he closed his eyes, enjoying your assault on his neck.

You jumped off the counter, standing in front of him and having him slightly press you into the counter. You kissed lower onto his chest, then took it upon yourself to kiss all the way down to his happy trail. When you reached it, you pressed your tongue flat against his abs and licked up, all the way to his neck and kissing his lips. He was quick to stick his tongue in your throat, which you accepted for only a moment before getting onto your knees.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” Bucky mumbled, hoping you’d continue. He took your light scoff and continuations as a yes.

You unbuttoned his pants and grabbed them, pulling them slowly down his legs. You were quicker to grab his boxers and pull them down, revealing what you wanted. All ten inches of him stood straight up, tapping his stomach as your gingers grazed the base.

He grabbed the counters as you began stroking him underneath the table and gave him soft kisses, “What’s got you so hard, Buck?”

“You,” he responded fast, his breath uneven, “Your dress, fuck— You look so beautiful. If I saw you back in the 50s, I would’ve thought you were the most perfect girl I’d ever seen, just like now.”

You stood up and continued jerking him off, turning so you were in front of him. You wanted to see his face. You kissed his neck as you jerked faster, “Where would you have taken me on a date back then?”

“The movies, for sure,” he threw his head back as you collected spit on your palm and jerked him off stronger than before, “We would have kissed in the back— Fuck, that feels good— Taken you to get food after.”

“What would happen after the date?”

He realized what you were getting at as he closed his eyes, just imagining it, “Usually I’d wait to go back to my house, but I wouldn’t be able to wait with you— Oh, god, oh, jesus— I-I’d put you in the back of my car and shove my face in you, ruin you until you could never fuck another man again.”

He took a deep breath and let out a drawn out moan, his eyebrows furrowing in pleasure as you sped up, “I’d put you on top of me, let you ride me until you got what you wanted out of it. I’d fuck you so good.”

You felt yourself getting wetter at his words, and it was driving Bucky’s super senses insane, “I can smell you, fuck.”

He grabbed your waist and seperated you from him. He wanted to be delicate, but how could he when you looked so perfect? He found the buttons and accidentally broke a few, but undid them as fast as he could. He took no time to take the dress off of you, his breath stopping at the black lacy bra that had underwear to match. He put his hand out to trace the lace along the underwear, his hand stopping at your crotch. He cupped it slightly before you backed away, “This is about you, stop.”

“Don’t starve a man,” he whined, his eyes furrowing in desperation. He picked you up and sat you on the counter, spreading your legs as he watched you shake your head at his request, “Baby, do you want me to go crazy? I can’t cum until I eat you, be nice. I just want a little, just for a minute, okay? Then you can do whatever you want to me.”

“You’re like a starved dog, jesus,” you mocked, scoffing at him and letting him spread your legs. He always got what he wanted, and as good as it felt, you wanted to focus on him.

“You asked what I would have done to you in the forties?” He asked, sticking his hand into your underwear and rubbing you slowly, moving your wetness around to lube everything up, “I would have left that little dress on, and made you sit on my face. I’d want your smell on me for days so anytime I did anything, I’d think about what it felt like for you to hump my face.”

You breathed slowly at his confession, grinding onto his hand. He inserted two fingers, watching your mouth open as he did so. He stopped his fingers to let you adjust before moving them again, “You can’t even take my fingers— How am I gonna fit?”

His mocking tone was sending you over the edge, making your eyes close as he fingered you more rapidly, “What? Does that get you off? Me having to stuff you so full cause I barely fit?”

You moaned at his words, nodding rapidly as he fingered you at a quicker pace, “Look at you— Spread out for me with your slutty lace underwear— You look so fucking hot.”

He always made things about you when you did things, but he knew tonight you wanted him to get pleasure out of it all. He did something he was hesitant to do, but God did it feel good.

He rubbed himself slowly against your thigh as he fingered you, grinding on you like a dog in heat. You looked down, letting out the most unbelievable moan at the sight, making his eyes widen, “When you moan like that, I swear I could cum just humping you like a teenager.”

You arched your back and grabbed his arm, shaking your head, “Bucky, just fuck me, please.”

He removed his hand from your underwear and stuck his fingers in his mouth, moaning around them as he closed his eyes, licking up every drop he could, “You taste so good, look.”

He brought his fingers to your mouth and watched you take them in, tasting yourself. You hallowed your cheeks around him as he spoke, “You look like such a whore like this— Tasting yourself on my fingers. You’re meant to be fucked when you taste that good.”

He grabbed your underwear and turned it to the side, keeping on the sexy lace as he ran his dick over your wetness, making your body shiver. He stuck his head inside of you, then was slow to stick the rest of him in as well. When he was fully buried, he waited til you looked adjust to flip the both of you over, so you straddled his waist, “Ride me.”

You lifted yourself up before planting yourself back down, “Bucky— You’re so deep, fuck.”

You kept bouncing up and down, the sight of your tits jumping with you sending Bucky into overdrive, “I want you to cum inside me, Bucky, please.”

His eyes clenched shut at your words as he nodded, nearly busting at the words you just said, “I’ll fuck all my cum into you, baby, I promise.”

“Take what you want, milk me, God,” he moaned as you grinded on him, spelling your name with your hips. You grabbed your own chest, grabbing your nipples through your bra, “You’re so worked up, look at you— Greedy and fucked out— I could just fuck you whenever I wanted cause you’re always so wet for me.”

You nodded, bouncing faster and leaning down a bit to look at him, “You should— Fuck me whenever you want. When I’m cooking, showering, reading, just come and fuck me. I’ll take whatever you give me.”

“You sound like such a slut when you say that,” his eyebrows knit together, his hand coming to yo ur face. You grabbed his thumb and stuck it in your mouth, “You’re so unreal.”

Your body winced as you continued riding him, “I’m cumming, oh god, oh my fucking god—“

“Cum for me,” he mumbled, knowing he was on edge too. You moaned before you collapsed on him, but right when you did, you felt something in you happen.

He let go and you felt ropes of cum endlessly paint your insides. It was never ending, the serum had made him cum for minutes on end. You were getting so full of cum, “Bucky, you’re filling me up so much, it’s leaking.”

“Take it,” he moaned, feeling the last few drops leak out of you as he pulled out.

He flipped you on your back, his eyes now on your lower half. He nearly came again at the sight of your wet pussy leaking his cum, it was dripping out so much.

He put his finger inside of you, shoving all the cum left into you harder. You shivered at the sudden overstimulation he was causing since you just came, “What are you doing?”

“Making sure you don’t waste any,” he smirked, taking his finger out and grabbing all the cum that had dripped out and bringing it to your mouth. You took it all, drinking his cum off his fingers as you grabbed his hand, looking at him.

“I want you to cum again— But in my mouth this time.”

#bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x reader #avengers #smut #marvel #bucky barnes smut #bucky smut #bucky barnes #bucky x reader

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mangogobibiboo · 3 months

Text

Hoodie Heaven w/ Isagi

Isagi Yoichi x Reader // Warnings: Foul Language, slightly suggestive // Word Count: 900+

"Would it be all right if I borrowed your sweater? It smells like you."

The tone of the FaceTime chime rings through the room. You hadn’t really noticed how quiet the room had been until the call rung from Isagi’s tablet.

“WHERE THE HELL IS YOUR LUKEWARM ASS ISAGI!” Rin’s lovely voice rang through the room. It had cut through the tension soliciting a small giggle from you as you turned back to the open luggage in front of you.

Isagi let out a dry chuckle and rubbed the back of his neck. “Why do call me just to yell Rin, we’re not even supposed to be at the airport for another three hours”

“Check your fucking phone, the flight got moved up. Get here now! The flight leaves in an hour!” The call suddenly cuts off. ‘Rin is as civil as ever’ you think as you fumble with the same hoodie you’ve been fiddling with for the past 20 minutes.

“Shit, I have to leave now” Isagi starts rushing around the bedroom grabbing things and tossing them into the luggage. He was leaving. This time it was to Paris for a tournament or something. Last time it was to Germany and the time before Brazil. This was the off season and it still seemed like he was never home. You loved him you did and you were proud of him, you really were but at some point all his games meant more time away.

The last time he left was just two months ago, he had only gotten back last week. Now he was leaving, again.

“What is this trip for again Yoi?”

“It’s a charity tournament baby! The kids from the foundation are gonna get to do a training camp with former bluelock players. It’s going to be so cute!” He places a quick kiss on your neck as he sneaks behind you to toss another pair of pants into the bag.

It tickles. He had just shaved yesterday but you could already feel the stubble starting to grow back. You were going to miss his kisses. Your clutch tightened on the hoodie a little. You pulled it closer.

“Rin’s manager really thought that he would be a good mix with kids” you mumble and turn back to him and giggle again. He was still buzzing around the room making sure he had everything not really listening to what you said. How dare that damn airline, you were never going to book with them again, how could they rob you of your precious time with your boyfriend. The 3 hours had just turned into a hectic 40 minutes.

“Okay! I think that’s everything…oh can you toss that hoodie in too baby it supposed to be really cold around this time in France.” You give him the hoodie in your hand. He zipped up his bag and made his way to you. Now finally having a second to breathe before leaving for the airport. He placed his hand on your waist, one making its way to your chin and guiding your face up to him.

“What’s with the face?” He leaned in for a peck, it was slow and warm. You pulled away from the kiss and buried your face in his chest. You hug him tight. “Geez what has gotten into you” he chuckled, hugging you back, kissing the top of your forehead.

He smells so good. It was the perfect mixture of your vanilla body wash with a hint of his musky calonge.

Oh! An idea struck your head. That what you needed

“Yoichi! Take off your hoodie!” you pull back for him and start tugging his top up.

His eyes went wide for a second but abided. “W- Now? You want to do that now. I mean I guess I do have a half hour left. But we should be quick.” He went for his belt next but you hastily stopped him. You laughed and shook your head partly for how funny it was to see Isagi so eager he was stumbling over himself and also out of embarrassment for the misunderstanding.

“No you Perv!” You smack his chest. “it’s just that- I miss you so much when you leave Yoi. I just wanted to have the hoodie you're wearing now. So, would it be all right if I borrowed your sweater?…it smells like you.”

This time Isagi looks away, embarrassed. “Well you should have started with that. Of course you can have it, baby. Is that why you looked so down?” You nod your head “I promise this is the last event and I am all yours for the rest of the off season and I promise I will call you every night okay?”

You both thread your pinky fingers together. Isagi seals the promise with a kiss on your interlocked fingers first and then your lips as he cups your jaw.

DING!

It was his phone. “Damn it’s probably Rin, I have to go. Can you answer that while I get a shirt?” You nod as he rushes to the walk-in closet.

ITOSHI RIN: If your not here in the next 20 minutes I will shove these tickets down your fucking throat.

You stifle another laugh “Yoichi hurry! If you're any more late I might never see you again” Isagi emerges with a confused face as you show him the text. “Remind me again why Rin is doing this”

“Bachira convinced him that if he could train his team to beat my team it would mean that he is the better striker” Isagi grabs the luggage’s walking out as you follow.

“Those poor kids” you grab the keys from the counter.

“Kids!? No honey, wait till he finds out that he is my co - coach. I don’t know who gonna get it worse me or Bachria?”

A/N: This was so cute to write. Isagi is just so perfectly boyfriend coded. Also reader kind of completely useless while packing in this story sorryyyy, like girl he is in a rush 😭

#blue lock headcanons #blue lock drabbles #blue lock #bluelock headcanons #bluelock x reader #bluelock #isagi x reader #isagi smau #isagi yoichi #bllk isagi #blue lock isagi #isagi x you #isagi smut #isagi fluff #isagi x y/n #isagi headcanons #isagi drabbles #itoshi rin

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aughhay · 5 months

Note

Raian and y/n fight so he pulls over the car and teaches her a lesson!!

𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲? || 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐮𝐫𝐞

“𝗍𝖼𝗁, 𝗇𝗈 𝗐𝗈𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗂 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗅𝖾𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗂𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖼𝖺𝗋.”

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭; dubcon, blood, dirty talking, arguing, cursing, slapping, hair pulling, degradation/humiliation, public sex, raian’s wearing sweatpants.., cramped space, biting, facefucking, rough play, you & raian are complicated, cum in mouth

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞; smut with gn!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭; 1.2k+, scrapped the actual sex part.

a/n; i did not proofread any of this shit 😦 im so sorry but WE HIT 40 NOTES ON THAT OHMA FIC IM SO HAPPY

18+ !!!

it’s about that time at night where raian turns into an egotistical asshole while driving, he starts noticing the streets are almost bare and grows a petty smirk. raian’s brain lights up with ideas to fuck with the remaining drivers on the road, make them pull over out of sheer fear or argue with them back and forth whilst going over the speed limit. it’s nothing new, but you’re sick of dealing with it as his passenger princess.

“raian, slow down a little.. you’re speeding..—“

“speeding? ha, you think this is fucking speeding?! this is nothing!.. i’ll show you and all these other bastards real speed.”

raian’s grin was as malice-filled as it was dark. his grip on the steering wheel tightening as he glanced over at you. he chuckled, barely audible, the sound mingling with the growl of the car engine as he pushed the pedal even further. your figure plunging back into the leather seat without warning. your head is in a swivel, hearing the beast's uncontrollable laughter as your body tries to adapt to the frenzied speed of the car.

the tension in the car became unbearable, the mix of danger and adrenaline filling the small space. his eyes flicked back to the road as you contemplated his words, the car's speed climbing with his expectations.

“stop the fucking car! it’s not funny, take me home raian.”

“you’re not going home ‘til i say so, and i say you keep your dolled up ass frozen in that passenger seat.”

his implications hang heavy, tangible as the charged air between you. raian’s hand, powerful and capable, finds a resting place on your thigh, digging into your skin without remorse. a reminder of his presence, his power. though your protests aren’t getting through to him one bit, the sound of your stern voice gets him hot, coaxing more out of you.

the car's interior feels stifling, tension thick between the two of you as headlights and street lamps streak by. you can tell by the tenseness of his jaw and the unwavering hardness pressing against his pants that his ire was vying with raw need. the silent car became a den of smoldered urges, one palpable exhale away from combusting.

“tch. little bitches like you always like to chat, don’t they?—“

“you may think you can bully all these other people on the road, but not me! you need to treat me with respect!”

“what makes you think you deserve my fucking respect? the fact that my cum was swishing inside of you last week makes you think i gotta be fucking jolly to you? hah! what a fucking joke.”

“fuck you!”

“fuck me?”

“fuck you! pull this car over now!”

raian’s scratched voice had a sick grin emerge deep inside. his eyes crinkling from a smile that could cause a god fear.

“if you were so worried ‘bout it... maybe you should have done somethin' to distract me, hah? could’ve curbed my fuckin' enthusiasm. but whatever..”

to hell with that alleyway three feet ahead as he swerved into it, his car jerks to a halt in the seclusion of the dark space. every tick slowed as he turned the headlights off and locked the car doors. even as time felt like it slowed, the hand that laid on your thigh switched to your locks in a quick snap.

“ah!—“

your squeak is muffled by the tight grip in your hair, raian’s jaw ticking as he watches the range of emotions play across your delicate features. he releases a chuckle, a sound scarred and throaty.

“d—don’t touch me!”

“that’s it, isn’t it? you love pissin’ me off ‘cause you know exactly what it leads to. fuckin’ freak. you’re lucky i’m hard too, would’ve kicked you the fuck out by now.”

“gonna make good use of you.”

the words come with a growl, his lips inches from yours as he leans closer, a silent promise of retribution or perhaps a dark form of foreplay.

without warning, his lips crash against yours, an aggressive and possessive kiss that leaves you breathless. it wasnt the kiss itself that made you feel that way, it was the harsh bite on your lips that took the air out your longing lungs. the anger that had been simmering between you diffuses gradually with each forceful movement of raian’s blood covered tongue against yours, seemingly battling for dominance. the sensation of being so thoroughly claimed by someone as fierce and relentless as this man sends a thrilling shiver coursing through your body.

your hands meet with his chest, at first to push him away. this kiss stings, it hurts along with his hand still tangled near your scalp. but as his tongue meets with yours, your head feels fuzzy and your hands relent against his shirt.

raian pulls back his face, mouth open tongue exposed, the mixed saliva dripping from the tip of his tongue as he pants.

“yeah, gonna use you ‘til you break.”

his hand pushes you to his crotch, un-busied hand pulling down his sweats as he stares down at you with anticipation. but as his cock pops up in front of your face, you just can’t stop yourself. his musk is too addictive as you kiss up and down each vein, his member twitching against your crimson red lips.

raian isn’t impressed, at all. a bored expression as he grumbles and slaps your cheek, not full of pain but enough to sting for a few seconds. his hips forcefully separating your soft lips as he uses your mouth. pushing your head down to the base where his pubes tickle your skin. you salivate and gag on his cock, looking up at his face as your head bobs up and down on his length. eyes hazy, you turned into a mess in seconds.

“fuck yeah.”

his gruff whisper barely slices through the stillness, his large hand tangled in your hair, guiding your head in a gentle rhythm. you feel his girth stretch your lips, his hand tightening ever so slightly each time he meets the deeper side of your throat.

every rough thrust interrupts your breath, leaving you gasping, eager, the sound of your muffled gagging mingles with the leather seats squeaking. raian’s assertiveness envelops you, his satisfaction clear in the grunt that escapes him when you hollow your cheeks, the slurping sounds filling the tight space of the car.

he hears the undeniable sounds of your commitment, the involuntary noise that escapes you as he continues to test your limits. the car jostles lightly from his movements, the energy of your eagerness causing the heavy vehicle to rock gently. raian’s breathing becomes ragged, a stark contrast to his usual, nonchalant demeanor.

the sounds of your lewd dedication, the steady rhythm of your gagging, drive raian closer to the edge. with his focus now entirely on you. moments become stretched, every touch, every noise heightened as he surrenders to your oral ministrations, his release imminent.

“fuck— gah!”

his words cut off, a deep chested grunt filling the car as his grip on you becomes a vice, his body tensing. you feel his pulse quicken, the unmistakable twitch as he empties himself, your devotion unwavering. his cum splurts into your throat without warning, your coughing audible as it sticks inside your mouth and makes it a struggle to swallow.

raian laughs at your tussle, pulling you away and into the backseat.

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bensonoliviasstuff · 11 days

Text

“Turning Page”

Chapter One! “ ‘I'll never leave’, never mind”

Masterlist for “Turning Page”

Bucky Barnes x fem! Reader

Summary: Once Bucky regained consciousness and was no longer the Winter Soldier, all he missed from the 40s was his wife. But maybe she's closer than he thought.

Warnings: English is NOT my first language, so I'm sorry if there are too many errors. Futhermore i don't think there are many warnings, a little bit of angst, memory loss, betrayal, trauma, Insecurities and other things that you will discover throughout the story. And the best part: Thanos doesn't exist here

The infirmary doors were opened in an angry shove, making a loud noise as the metal of the door met the wall. A nervous Bucky walked past with hurried steps.

“Bucky, Wait!” Steve shouted trying to keep up with his friend's steps. “No one can enter the room yet, they are carrying out tests”

“I need to see, Steve!” He shouted in a broken voice as he continued his way through the corridors of the compound's medical wing. “I need to see with my own eyes...”

The sentence died down when he stopped walking, facing the glass window of the hospital room.

It was you.

Bucky had the image of you memorized perfectly in his head, he could describe everything that had changed since 1940 with just one look, your hair was a few inches longer, there were a few small scars on your face. But it was still you.

He felt like his heart had stopped beating for a few moments.

He ran a metal hand over his face, holding back the sob that threatened to escape his throat. “It’s her Steve” Bucky placed a hand on the glass, almost as if he could feel it.

“It's her, Bucky” Steve said cautiously “But... We don't know what happened to her this whole time, we'll only know how she is when she wakes up.”

That's when realization hit Bucky, his fist closed against the glass, about to punch the wall.

“I’m going to kill those bastards” Bucky said, unable to calm the anger he felt towards those men, what if you went through everything he went through? All the torture he had to endure for years and years? The thought of you suffering like he did made Bucky's heart sink towards his stomach.

“Natasha is interrogating the man who told us she was there” Steve said “She’s waiting for us.”

“I was waiting for you” your voice echoed through the room before Bucky took you by the waist and gave you a kiss full of love. “Sergeant Barnes now then?”

You pulled away to take a good look at your husband, he was wearing the brown suit of a WWII soldier.

“For you it’s always ‘my love’, doll” Bucky said taking you in his arms, this was something you loved about your relationship, even after so long together you still acted like teenagers who had just started a fiery passion.

But Bucky didn’t fail to notice when you lowered your head to hide your teary eyes.

“Hey, doll, what’s wrong?” He already knew the answer, he knew it and it left him almost inconsolable before going to sleep.

“I’m afraid Bucky, what if you don’t come back?” Her voice became lower and lower as the doubt became more terrifying in her mind.

“I will come back doll, I promise you, not in a million years i'm leaving you alone” He placed a hand on your neck, forcing you to look at him.

“You can’t promise that” You said unsurely. “You don’t know if you’re really going to come back. ”

“Then you can marry Steve” He tried to joke to lighten up, and you couldn’t help but let out a tearful laugh, punching him in the shoulder.

“This isn't funny, you know?” You said wiping away your tears. “I know, I know” he apologized pulling you into a tight hug. “I will never leave you doll, that's the only thing I'll keep in mind while I fight: I can't leave my princess behind.”

“How did you know Y/N Barnes was alive?” Natasha asked the man chained in front of her, Bucky and Steve were on the other side of the mirrored glass.

“She was never dead, Hydra has been with her since Steve Rogers was presumed dead” Steve looked down, he still blamed himself for that, for leaving you alone even after you losing your husband.

“What did Hydra wanted with her?” Natasha asked coldly, leaning over the table. “Why did they taked her?”

“Even after we erased the Winter Soldier's memory, he always ended up remembering her at some point, we wanted to create an advantage in this regard, if he decided he was no longer on our side, we would threaten to kill her”

Bucky kicked the nearest chair, cowering in rage. He was ready to go into that room and kill that man in the most violent way ever recorded. “And why didn’t they do that when he disappeared?”

“He was already gone, we couldn't find him, but she didn't lose her usefulness, during the time she was at the base, she made a lot of noise after finding out that James Barnes was alive, sometimes she could spend an entire day screaming for her husband, it was irritating, so we decided to erase her memory, it became much easier to experiment on her after that.” The man was dismissive, he had nothing left to lose, he was already sentenced to prison, now he just wanted to see Sergeant Barnes suffer.

“Still, she always remembered him eventually, we also used it to test the soldier's memory, every time after we erased his memory, we took him to her, only to see he didn't recognize her, she would cry for days.”

At this point, Bucky was curled up in the corner of the wall, holding his head as the tears fell. You called out to him, you spent days screaming for him, you were in the same place as him all the time and he was never even able to recognize you.

It was tearing him apart, it was breaking everything inside him. He was about to leave, unable to listen any longer, when Natasha's question reached his ears.

“Experiments? So she has the super soldier serum?” Bucky turned around, waiting for the answer “No, but we trained her, she was very good at carrying out the missions she was sent, Y/N Barnes killed a lot of people”

That was the final straw for Bucky, they made his precious sweet girl spill blood.

He walked into the room, ignoring Steve's comments about calming down. He grabbed the man by the collar of his clothes and pushed him violently against the wall, starting to throw punches with his metal arm, he could spend hours beating and it still wouldn't be enough, but Steve ripped him off before the man's face was deformed.

“Never put her name in your mouth again! Your bastard! I'll kill you!" Bucky screamed trying to free himself from Steve, Natasha got in front of Bucky and ordered Steve to get him out of there.

Steve left dragging a nervous Bucky. “Look, I have the same desire as you, I wanted to go in there and finish him off, but that’s not how you solve things Bucky!”

Bucky sat on the chair he had kicked minutes ago, putting his head in his hands, everything in him was shaking, a mixture of hatred, anguish and guilt. “They put her through hell, Steve!” He stood up abruptly, putting his hand over his mouth. “All this because I left her alone, I forgot about her! I promised I would always be there for her and I just forgot about her!”

Steve looked at his friend with a very strong tightness in his chest, this whole situation hurt him in a way he couldn't even explain, imagine how much it was hurting Bucky? How much did it hurt you, going through all of this alone?

He still remembered when he had to break the news to you.

“Steve!” You said happily after opening the door to the apartment you and Bucky shared. “Oh, I'm so happy to see you! I still haven't gotten used to the fact that you're taller than me now” You walked forward giving Steve a hug, noticing that his face wasn't looking good but you wanted to ignore all the crazy theories in your head. “Where is my husband? Why didn't he come with you? I already said you can't steal it from me” You joked, despairing when Steve didn't laugh.

“I'm so sorry Y/n... Bucky...” Steve started to speak but you interrupted before he could finish his line of reasoning. "No! Don’t say that Steve, it’s not true, it can’t be true, don't you dare to lie to me!” You said taking steps back, with your hand on your stomach, feeling like you were going to throw up.

“He promised... He told me he would come back!” You started to cry as Steve walked over pulling you into a hug.

Your legs no longer had the strength to keep you standing when you started crying and sobbing in Steve's arms. “I'm sorry, I'm so sorry” Steve kept repeating, even though his heart was breaking more and more.

“He promised me Steve! He has to come back” You repeated between sobs, Steve didn’t know what to say when your pain seemed to be consuming you.

That day, he laid you in bed, made you some tea and sat next to you until you Say a sentence that ended that super soldier.

“The worst lie I’ve ever heard: ‘I’ll never leave.’” You sighed with heavy eyes “Never mind”

After saying that you fell asleep, Steve couldn't put into words how painful it was to see your red and swollen face sleeping.

“I promise to take care of you Y/n, I won’t leave you alone, for Bucky”

Even so many years later Steve's heart hurts knowing that if he hadn't left, maybe you wouldn't have been alone, and now he feels even more guilty knowing that if he had been around, Hydra wouldn't have taken you.

He felt like it was his fault, even if it wasn't.

Steve's thoughts were interrupted by the door opening.

“Sergeant, Captain” Tony appeared in the room, a curious and relieved look on his face “She woke up”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #sebastian stan #marvel mcu #mcu #marvel #the avengers #iron man #tony stark #natasha romanoff #black widow #steve rogers #captain america #imagine #writing

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sassydefendorflower · 1 year

Text

Fashion Worldbuilding in FMA:b

From a historical fashion standpoint, the fashion in FMA:b (and the manga) is all over the place, but since the 1914/1915 setting of Amestris is not actually linked to the real historical time period there is no need to apply rigid fashion rules to the worldbuilding. And yet, I think it is very interesting to explain the fashion of Amestris through a Watsonian lens.

And what better place to start with than the very a-historical skin-tight, skin-showing clothing of our teenage characters?

Winry is always dressed practically and job oriented (coveralls, gloves, something to tie her hair back with) and yet she’s also dressed like a typical modern teenager. Crop tops and short skirts are the norm for when Winry is doing everyday stuff outside of her workshop or extreme territories. She is by far not the only character that dresses like this - we see both Matel and Paninya in similarly tight and form-fitting outfits.

And the world around them doesn’t react to this excess of skin with disgust or outrage - their way of clothing seems to be the general norm, or at least pretty widespread and accepted. But if we look closer, it seems that this is only a societal norm for young people.

Most of the older women we meet, are dressed rather conservatively, with dresses and long skirts being the norm. Hair is most often drawn in a bun on older female characters, and the general dress shape seems to be late 19th century inspired.

In this crowd scene for example, we can see a handful of young women wearing pants with their hair open, while the majority of the women depicted seem to be wearing skirts, dresses, and aprons as befitting a working women, while others seems to have scarves wrapped around their shoulders as if out and about on a stroll through town.

Which would make sense. This would divide the expected “proper” way of dressing along the axis of age (and/or marital status), with the cut-off being somewhere in the mid- to late twenties. Characters like Riza Hawkeye, Matel, and Sheska play into this, as they are all more conservatively dressed as Winry, but do not yet follow stricter fashion rules as they seem to be common in older demographics.

In this scene Riza is wearing a skirt that covers her knees and a jacket that covers her neck and the entirety of her arms. We later see her dressed in different civilian clothes as well, with a white blouse, a pink cardigan, and comfortable loose pants. As such she is in a transitional phase of fashion, between the more loose and short styles of the youth and the more traditional cuts of the older generation.

Shezka is much the same, her blouse and typical turtleneck much more “grown up” than the clothes Winry and her age-mates wear, and yet the rest of her clothes have not yet reached the same level of “age”. Both of these characters are also unmarried, which could be another factor in the way they dress - historically speaking, expectations on dress were different between single women and those that were married, so there is a distinct possibility of the same being the case in the world of FMA.

Which brings us to another very interesting axis of analysis: how do jobs and fashion interact in Fullmetal Alchemist?

The way I see it Amestris is a country on the verge of changing. We see a noteworthy amount of female soldiers, but only one female General - so much so, that Sloth is ordered to kill “the” female General, because Olivier Mira Armstrong is the only woman in the upper brass. The other female soldiers we meet all have ranks up to First Lieutenant, but nothing above. There are no female State Alchemists. Most of the other professionals we meet are men.

It makes sense for Olivier to be the first female general based on her family history and the fact that she was probably an outstanding soldier - but it also highlights that the military as a structure has probably only allowed female soldiers for up to 30 to 40 years by the time we meet the Elrics and their world. And I see much of Amestris through that lens - most gender-based laws have probably been repelled by now, but the society at large still remembers a much more divided structure. This is reflected in the fashion, of course.

In a country that has only recently changed its views on which professional fields should be open to all genders, the divide between the fashion rules for those that remember more rigid structures and those that grew up without certain assumptions is growing. Societal standards are slow to change, but they do reflect the opinions of the general public - or at least the rules and traditions people tend to cling to.

Let’s take Gracia for example. While the hemline in general seems to be rising in all age demographics (except the elderly, while staying relatively conservative in older demographics and - hypothetically - married women) Gracia dresses less form-fitting than other women in her age range (Riza Hawkeye, Rebecca Catalina). She is generally dressed more “proper”, even later on when we see her wearing skirts that end above the knee. What I really find interesting though is the comparison to her younger self - roughly eight years younger, as this is a picture from the end of the Ishval War. Even though she is probably about twenty to twenty-three in this picture, she is dressed a lot more conservative than all the other female characters we have met in that age range so far. This can have multiple reasons. Maybe Gracia is from a more conservative, rich family that favors more traditional style of dress - or we can see the rabid change in society in just eight years.

Again, Amestris as a society in the middle of extreme social change.

We can even see it in the military uniforms. Female soldiers in active duty wear the same clothes as their male counterparts.

(including the butt-cape)

But what we see multiple times is other female officers employed at Central Command (or other military headquarters) wearing a different uniform - with a much shorter skirt (tho a longer skirt option seems to be available, as we also see female soldiers wearing skirts that cover the knees).

This could imply two things: a) the longer skirts were the normal uniform for female employees of the military not cleared for active duty, and only recently shorter skirts became a part of the uniform as a reaction to the changing fashion landscape or b) the shorter skirts existed for longer as some sort of sexist tool of the upper brass to demean their female employees.

For the sake of our current worldbuilding, let’s go with Option A).

Again, the general hemline seems to be rising - in a way, it wouldn’t even be historically unheard off. In the 1920s the female silhouette changed so much in young, city-dwelling circles that you might even see the occasional knee peak out from under a skirt - Amestris could be experiencing a similar change in fashionable dress.

There is one other thing I want to mention while I’m at it: the influences of other cultures on Amestrian culture and fashion.

Amestris is an imperial power, and while that means that it has a very strong national identity on the one hand, we can also see how it has adapted other cultural influences in its daily life. While the wearing of traditional Ishvalen clothing is probably demonized and a sure way to get othered, influenced from other nations Amestris is war-ing with can be found.

Xing-style clothing seems to be pretty common, and if anything it seems to be a sign of status to be able to afford clothes from Xing.

We see Mrs. Bradley were Xing-style clothing multiple times throughout the show, and it always seems to be something a lady of good standing can do without consequences. This implies a certain level of cultural trade and exchange between the two countries, especially once you consider that Xingese features seem to be common enough in Amestris that Ling always has to mention his status as a foreigner since his appearance alone would not give it away.

(And the fact that all Lan Fan and Fu had to do to go undercover was exchange their Xingese dress for classical Amestrian clothing and suddenly they could disappear in a crowd without a problem)

And this bit of decor in General Grumman’s office? This also implies some sort of cultural influences from Drachma.

There is also the fact that class probably does play a role in the way people dress, with people from Rush Valley, a certified weird town full of weird people, dressing more wild, with less need for social conventions in a place like that. And people from the countryside favoring practicality over fashion, and much of the women we see there wearing loose dresses and aprons, which makes sense. At the same time, what little we see of the Armstrong family, they seem to favor a more conservative style of dress, even at a younger age.

Which makes sense - fashion is influenced by a lot of different factors, class, age, gender, gender representation, work and cultural influences all making a difference.

And just as an aside - while this post mostly discusses women’s fashion in FMA:b, I think it applies to men’s fashion as well. At least to a certain degree. While most men are much more uniformly dressed in “old-timey” clothing, the current shift seems to be happening when it comes to wearing hats.

And I also think teenage boys are less tied to the fashion expectations of their time - Edward for example dresses very modernly and weird. BUT and - this is very interesting - his sense of fashion is constantly considered as outside of the norm. Part of his Growing-Up Arc is starting to wear the clothes society expects him to wear... which means that while women’s fashion is rapidly changing, men’s fashion is still rather strict in comparison, with breaking of the rules being perceived as socially “punishable” in comparison.

#fma #fmab #edward elric #winry rockbell #riza hawkeye #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood #fma meta #fmab meta #fashion history #paninya #maria ross #my fun take on the world of amestris #amestris #fake fashion history #nothing too deep #just me doing a too deep analysis of the text #watsonian analysis

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nicoline1998enilocin · 7 months

Text

Eyes on me

Pairing | Husband!Robert Downey Jr x Wife!Female!Reader

Word count | 1.2K

Summary | Robert comes home from an extended filming period, and you're desperate to have him fill you up again. He can barely make it inside before you're all over him, but it's the best 'welcome home' he could have dreamed of.

Warning(s) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. RPF, established relationship (husband and wife), age gap (Robert: mid to late 40s, Reader: is early to mid-30s), porn without plot, smut (daddy kink, dirty talk, oral (M receiving), masturbation (F receiving), hair pulling, throat fucking, cum swallowing).

A/n | I want to give a big (😉) thanks to @ccbsrmsf1 for drooling over his body with me because he's an absolute Greek God of a man! I hope you enjoy what I did with this brainchild of mine because I sure as hell know it was fun to write, hehe 🖤

Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 💚

Divider is made by @firefly-graphics | 18+ banner is made by yours truly

Main Masterlist | Robert Downey Jr. Masterlist

Robert just got home from an extended filming period, and you've rarely been more desperate for him than you are now. As soon as he walks in the door, you're greeting him with a brand new set of dark green lingerie you bought just for this occasion.

Before he can even get so much as a ''welcome home!'' out of his mouth, you've pushed him against the door; your mouth crashed onto him in a dominating, passionate kiss. The groan vibrating in his chest lets you know how good he feels, and you're glad you decided to surprise him like this.

Your kiss moved from his pink, plump lips to the scruff on his jaw and down his neck to the sensitive spot below his ear. The grunt tumbling off his lips has you smiling into your kiss, and you can't help but let your hands wander to push the jacket off his back, followed by opening the buttons of his shirt.

''Fuck, feels so good, Gorgeous,'' he says with a raw edge to his voice, and it makes the arousal in your panties only grow more. When his shirt is on the floor, you kiss further down his body, only stopping to tug, roll, and nibble on his ever-so-sensitive nipples.

His hands find their way into your hair as he pulls you up for another deep, passionate kiss that has the butterflies in your stomach swirling like never before.

''Let me make you feel good, Daddy,'' you whisper into his ear after you pull away again, and the goosebumps in his neck tell you just how badly he wants it. His cock is already uncomfortably hard in his tight jeans, and when you palm him through them, he lets his head fall back against the door.

Robert's jaw is slightly slack, every hot breath and moan freely leaving his throat. You sink to your knees slowly, your lips ghosting over his abs and placing hot, open-mouthed kisses now and again. Your long, slender fingers have reached the waistband of his jeans, and they pop open the button effortlessly.

After his zipper, you pull his pants down in a single, smooth motion until it's bunched on the floor, and when you realize he's not wearing any underwear, you moan at the sight.

His dick was leaning forward a little from the weight and curved deliciously to the left with a bead or pre-cum leaking from the tip.

''Is this just for me, Daddy?'' you say as you look up at him with blown pupils, the color of your eyes not visible anymore from pure arousal, and you're eyes look a little glossed over, too.

''Absolutely, Gorgeous. Why don't you make Daddy feel good by sucking on it a little?'' he says with a sly smirk, and you happily listen to what he wants.

Your hands slide over his thighs, and you revel in the feeling of the dark hairs adorning them, up to the dips of his thighs, so close to where he needs you, yet not close enough.

''Gorgeous, don't be a fucking tease,'' he growls at you, and after giving him a crooked smile, you lean forward and make tiny kitten licks over his tip, his head falling back against the door again with a loud thud.

Your lips wrap around his tip, and you suckle ever so slightly, and it makes Robert's back arch away from the door, pushing himself deeper into your mouth, and you take the opportunity to grab two handfuls of his perfectly round ass.

At first, you massage them softly while slowly working more of his dick into your mouth because it's always a stretch - one you'll happily get accustomed to every single time, in every single hole he feels like using that day.

''Fuck, that's it, Gorgeous; that throat is nice and tight for me, can't wait to fuck it and shoot my cum deep into it. Make you swallow it all like a cumslut,'' he says, and the moan that you let out makes Robert push into you again, hitting your gag reflex this time.

''C'mon, relax for Daddy; I know you want to be my good girl,'' he says, and you pull back, needing to ask him something.

''M-May I touch myself, Daddy? 'M so wet,'' you say with an innocent look. Robert strokes your cheek softly with his thumb, and you lean into his touch as you close your eyes. These sweet moments are the ones you love so much, making the act so much more intimate.

''Yes, you may, Gorgeous, but I always want your eyes on me. Want to see how you fall apart on those fingers while you suck my cock like the cockslut you know you are for Daddy,'' he says, and you nod in agreement.

He grabs hold of his dick, and he taps your tongue a few times as you stick it out, letting a few more beads of pre-cum fall onto your tongue as you wrap your mouth around him again.

Your fingers slide into your panties as you look up at him like he told you to do. There's nothing you ever wanted more than being his good girl, and you're willing to do everything to earn that praise from him.

His fingers weave into your hair, and he gets a tight grip, ensuring he can use you just how he wants. You know that if it's too much, you can always tap his thigh twice, and in the past, you've had to a couple of times to which he listened immediately. Because of that, you can let go as you trust him fully.

With slow, deliberate movements, he thrusts into your throat, and you relax it as much as you can until he slides past and deep into your throat as you take all of him, and your nose is pressed against his pubic bone.

Your fingers rub through your soaking folds as you try to get the edge off, but you're careful not to do too much since you're already on the edge of an orgasm.

Robert pulls back and thrusts a few more times to ensure he's good to go, and when you let out an impatient moan around him, he tightens the grip on your hair without warning, and he starts fucking your throat in earnest, chasing his high right now.

''Oh, fuck. Doing so well for Daddy, you cumming on those fingers yet, Gorgeous? That's it, let go for Daddy,'' he says, and you can't help it as you're shaking and trembling as your fingers find your clit and work you through a mind-bending orgasm right now.

''Shit, gonna fucking cum for you, Gorgeous, swallow it!'' he says, and with a few more sloppy thrusts, he shoots his cum deep into your throat, making you swallow it all while he stares deep into your eyes as if he's staring into your soul.

He pulls out, and you stick out your tongue to show him you swallowed it all before he crouches down and pulls you into a passionate kiss, which is all clashing teeth and tongue, but it is nothing short of perfect.

When he pulls away, you look at him with those glossy eyes he loves so much, and you croak out three simple words.

''Welcome home, Daddy.''

#robert downey jr #robert downey jr one shot #robert downey jr fanfiction #robert downey jr fanfic #robert downey jr x female reader #robert downey jr x reader #robert downey jr smut #rdj #rdj one shot #rdj fanfiction #rdj fanfic #rdj x female reader #rdj x reader #rdj smut

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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 2 months

Text

You Call It Madness But I Call It Love

Chapter 4: It's My Party and I'll Eat Cake If I Want To

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy. This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter four of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 4.1K

Warnings: References to sex, Cursing (a few times), Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC,

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Masterlist for Series

Masterlist

************************

Philadelphia 1935

"Stop fidgeting." Your mother snaps under her breath as you pull at the high collar of the monstrosity covering your body. Not one inch of skin is visible, the high collar, long sleeves, and knee-length skirt hid every shred of your body from view. It made you feel like you were drowning in chiffon all the while being choked to death.

"But mother it's itchy-"

"I don't care." She snarls, lip curling back. "It makes you look presentable and you need to focus on greeting your guests."

You sigh and look back over the groups of people that flood through the front doors of your home and into the living room. Waiters in sharp uniforms weave through the crowd with trays of appetizers, glasses of wine and champagne, and slices of birthday cake. Most of the guests were friends of your parents, and had begun flocking to the wet bar in the corner that your mother set up. Your brother and his new wife were standing in the corner of your large sitting room surrounded by groups of their friends.

Your sister-in-law smiles as she catches your eye. She was one of the nicest people you knew, perfectly matched with your older brother, who looked at her like she was his entire world. They had only courted for a month before they both realized it was love and against your parent's insistences for them to wait, had been married. But they were so blissfully happy together that it made your heart ache for the same.

You wondered if there would ever be a day that Ben looked at you that way.

"Good evening Mrs. y/l/n." Howard appears in the doorway, reaching out to kiss your mother's hand. He's wearing the same sand-colored suit as he was earlier in the park.

"Mr. Stine. Lovely to see you this evening." She curtsies graciously and glares at you to do the same. "We are happy you could make it tonight."

"I was honored to receive an invitation." His eyes drift to you. "Ms. y/l/n." He takes your hand and presses a kiss to the back of it. His hand is clammy and you try not to make a face.

Ben still hadn't shown up. Which meant that he was either out drinking and he forgot, fighting with his father again, or he was waiting to make his grand entrance.

You really hoped that he hadn't forgotten. When he dropped you off at your home a few hours prior to the party, he said something about going to get a drink and changing. What you'd wanted to say was, didn't you have enough earlier, but you didn't.

The few hours before the party had been harrowing, filled with your mother snapping at you whenever you complained about her pulling the corset too tight, jerking your hair, or rubbing the lotions and ointments into your skin too roughly.

"Would you like to dance?" Howard asks you with a smile.

"Um-" You begin to say.

"Of course she would!" Your mother says all but shoving you forward into Howard's arms.

He leads you away to the sitting room. Your mother had the staff clear out all the furniture to make room for a string band in the corner and a dance-floor. There were already a few couples swaying back and forth to the soft tones that flitted through the air on wings.

Howard pulls you against him awkwardly, one of his hands tightening on your waist, the other clasping your left hand in his sweaty right. Everything about dancing with him feels wrong. The way your bodies move together, the smell of his cologne is unfamiliar, the feeling of his hand on your waist, and the way his feet sporadically knock into yours, that are pinched tight in a pair of heels that make you taller than Howard. The dance you share is filled with silences that you can't avoid.

Silence.

"You look really nice." Howard tries.

"Thank you."

Silence.

"So, um- you like to paint." Howard says with a strained smile.

"I do."

Silence.

"Did you see President Roosevelt's plans for the Social Security Administration? I think that it will definitely help with taxation and the living situations in America!" Howard smiles.

"Um. No I didn't."

Silence.

It shouldn't be this hard to talk to other people. You think to yourself. When you and Ben talked, there were never any uncomfortable silences, if anything sometimes the silence was nice. The one between Howard and you felt like it was big enough for an oil tanker to pass through.

You heard a commotion at the front door and raise your eyes to look over Howard's head, and feel your heart drop into the pit of your stomach. Ben is standing there, his arm looped tightly with Missy Callahan.

Missy was your best friend in grade school, but you quickly realized that it wasn't your friendship she was interested in, it was Ben. And as soon as Ben realized that she was interested in him, he all but jumped at the chance. Ben and her spent time together on and off over the past few years since the three of you were thirteen. And as much as you wished that they wouldn't spend any time together, you couldn’t come up with a way to voice your displeasure to Ben without telling him that you loved him.

You tried not to compare the way she looked to you. Her beautiful blonde hair fell in effortless waves down her back, her figure was slim, her eyes an enchanting blue that captured anyone under her gaze, and her steps so graceful she seemed to float across the ground rather than walk. Her voice was musical and lofty, accentuated by her timeless features, perfect cupid bow mouth, and wide eyes that always seemed full of stars and innocence. Tonight she was wearing a sleek red dress that cupped her body in a way that made everyone else in the room look like they were wearing potato sacks.

Of course you knew she was more than innocent. You'd caught her on several occasions saying terrible things about you, but the feeling was mutual. Her snide comments about how you looked and what you wore used to hurt more than they did now. But when Ben was around, she was perfectly kind to you, overly sweet that it made you want to choke her out of frustration.

You watch the two of them come through the front door, and notice Ben's eyes survey the room. You fight the urge to duck and run to hide the horrible dress. You know that he's looking for you and deep down you hope also he doesn't see you with Howard. But at the same time you know that what you’re about to do is much worse.

"Howard." You force yourself smile at him, dropping your eyes to the man dancing with you.

"Yeah?"

"Will you twirl me?" You lean towards him as if he's everything you wanted. Deep down you feel like a terrible person for using him like this, but you didn't want to be lonely. And when Ben was with Missy, that's exactly how you felt, lonely.

"Of course." Howard's smile breaks your heart. He twirls you away, and as he does, you catch Ben's eyes momentarily. You see something flit through them that you notice is the same emotion he had earlier when your mother wrapped that coat over your shoulders earlier, but it's gone as soon as it appears.

When you land back against Howard's chest, you ignore how wrong he fits against you, and instead you giggle.

"So Howard, what do you like to do in your free time?" You ask him, ignoring the feeling of Ben's gaze on you.

"Well, I've been researching the steel industry and trying to predict how it will bounce back-" Howard begins to slip quickly into a monologue about the United States steel production and the possible growth in the coming years.

Oh boy. He continues to speak while you sway to the music and you immediately begin to regret everything you've done in the past few minutes. At least he can multi-task.

You hoped that Ben and Missy weren't still standing there watching you, if they were Missy was probably laughing at you.

Finally, Howard stops talking and leads you over to the living room where people have begun to clump up and talk with one another. A waiter walks over with a tray full of birthday cake and just as you reach for a slice Missy materializes on your right like the devil on your shoulder.

"Y/n!" She smiles wide, saying your name with fake cheer. "I had no idea you would be here!"

"It's my birthday party." You say, voice slipping into a monotone.

"Oh well Benjamin didn't say anything about why we were coming here. Just said party and well, here I am." You hate the way she says his name, like she's emphasizing the fact she has him and you don't. "What an interesting dress!" Her eyes skate down the abomination your mother picked out.

"Thanks." You reply through gritted teeth.

She leans forward to whisper in your ear. "Do you really think birthday cake is a good idea?"

Your cheeks blaze bright red and just as you open your mouth to tell her exactly where you’d like to shove the birthday cake, Ben appears beside her.

"Hey."

"Hi." You don't bother to make your voice cheery.

When I sent you a birthday invitation I didn't say you could bring a plus one, and especially not this bitch. You try to say with your eyes.

"Did you have a nice dance Howie?" Ben turns his eyes on Howard, who stiffens at the use of the nickname.

"Yes we did." You answer for him and take Howard’s hand.

Something flashes in Ben's eyes when you use the word "we."

"Oh Benjamin, I love this song! Let's dance." Missy says, grabbing Ben's wrist and pulling him away.

You stand there and watch them dance for a moment, noticing how closely they're pressed together, how Ben's grip on her waist tightens as they sway back and forth, how Missy's head rests against the smooth fabric of his black jacket. An irrational amount of jealousy crashes over you as you watch them dance together, but you can't look away. It's like a trainwreck.

Well, couldn't look away until Missy catches your eye and shoots you a smirk that makes you consider all the places in Philadelphia you can hide a body. The list is detailed and quite long, considering you'd been working on it for as long as you'd known Ben.

"Y/n?" Howard says.

"Hmm?" You turn to look at him. "Sorry I was-" Thinking about all the ways to kill Missy. "Lost in thought."

"I asked if you wanted a piece of cake." Howard smiles and you hate that you feel absolutely nothing when he does. There's no butterflies, no tightening in the center of your chest, no warmth tracing through your body like fingertips flaring against your skin. You hated that's what happened when Ben smiled at you.

You think about what Missy said about the birthday cake, looking once more at her statuesque figure that bends gracefully away from Ben as he dips her, and shove the thought away. "Sure."

**************************

You sit on the end of your bed, but you don't reach for your sketchpad, you were too angry for that.

Ben had barely said two words to you beside the hello that you shared when he came to your birthday party with the most odious girl alive, of course that didn't mean that you lost them in the crowds of people. And that also meant that you'd seen him and her making out in one of the dark corners of the living room.

Anger, frustration, and jealousy swirl together and congeal into a ball in the pit of your stomach. You were angry at Ben for bringing her, jealous of Missy that she was the one who got to be with Ben, and frustrated at yourself for your inability to tell Ben the truth.

Why can't tell him? You sigh. And then what? I tell him and he immediately cuts me out of his life? Your eyes trace the room around you and fall back on your bed. Your bedroom always seemed too big without him, the bed cold, and the room dark. It made the whole in your heart open up when he wasn't there.

You hated how much you needed him and how much you depended on Ben showing up in your life. You wondered if he needed you too.

The memory of him and Missy in the corner, with his hands on her hips and his lips fused to hers, darts across your mind and makes you pluck a pillow from the head of your bed and scream into it.

It doesn't help.

"Hard day?" Someone asks.

"What are you doing here Ben?" You sigh, not needing to look up to know that its him.

He's standing with his feet on your window seat as he comes in from the ledge.

"Thought I'd stop by. We didn't get to talk much at the party." He shrugs.

You try not to look at how his lips are a little pinker than usual and how his hair is sticking up in the back like someone has run their fingers through it.

Damn Missy.

"Well I noticed you were plenty occupied. I guess it's hard to talk with your tongue shoved down Missy's throat." You huff, practically kicking off your shoes. It's a miracle that they don't hit him when he climbs down from the widow seat.

The image of him and Missy Callahan in the corner of your living room kissing flashes over your mind again and makes your temper flare red hot against your skin. The jealousy that electrifies in your veins you know is unwarranted. Ben wasn't yours. You didn't have a claim to him just because you were friends. Just friends. Great friends. And you knew that he didn't feel that way about you.

But how can he not see me as more? How can he spend so much time with me and only see me as a friend? You wanted to scream. All those times falling asleep talking with one another, all the times we woke up in the early morning pressed against one another. How can Ben not want to be more?

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you sound jealous Doll." Ben smirks.

"Of what? Missy Callahan? Please-" You blow a raspberry, even though it's unladylike and you know that if your mother was there she would slap you for doing so. "I don't know what you see in that vapid self-centered debutante. I doubt the two of you can find anything to talk about-"

"Well we don't do much talking. And you and Howard looked plenty cozy together." Ben's smirk turns more into a taunt and this time it makes you want to slap your best friend, but you hold yourself back. "But you sure sound jealous."

"I'm not jealous!" You snap, tugging at the collar of your dress in frustration, both at Ben and at the material in your hands. "Damn it!" You curse, not at Ben, but continue tug at the collar of the dress. Despite wanting to take it off, you hadn't been able to do it by yourself and your mother was busy ordering the waiters downstairs clean up, and it was getting harder to breathe and not to mention terribly hot.

"You doing okay there sweetheart?" Ben's smirk shifts to a worried expression.

"No I can't breathe." You choke out.

Ben immediately steps forward before you can stop him and unzips the back of your dress. It pools at your feet, making your breath catch, leaving you in the tight white corset that was causing you to asphyxiate. Although it went to your knees you still felt almost naked. Ben had only seen you in nightgowns, but it didn't mean that he hadn't felt your curves pressed against him in the morning when you woke up together.

The corset your mother insisted was necessary to shave down your hips, flatten your butt, and squeeze your breasts so tight against your chest that each time you took in a breath you weren't able to expel it.

Ben doesn't look away from your face, but it looks as if it's causing an amazing amount of effort for him to do so. "Do you want me to loosen it?" He rumbles. His jaw clenches with his words, and a darkness blooms in his eyes that sends a thrill down your spine.

"Yes." Your voice comes out more like a squeak than anything else.

Ben turns you in his arms slowly as if gauging your reaction, before you feel his fingertips trail down your spine as he begins to loosen the ties on the back. The tingle that follows his fingertips makes your chest as tight as the garment that squeezes you. You try not to think about how many times you imagined this exact scenario, with you and Ben in your bedroom together. Ben turns your body around so that you're looking up at him again, your faces so close that his lips are leveled directly where your hair sprouts from your forehead.

His hands remain on your waist, thumbs rubbing soothing circles through the material where it rests on your hips, tracing the crest of your pelvis with each stroke, his eyes lock with yours. They are deep and dark and filled with promises that makes you shiver and you're sure he feels. Your own hands have come up between you to rest against his solid chest, admiring the muscle beneath his dark suit. You can't help but notice how he leans forward into your touch as you do and feel the rapid beat of his heart against the palms of your hands. It mirrors your own that feels as though it will break free and flutter away.

"Ben I-" You begin to say.

A loud knocking at your door makes you shove him backwards away from you so hard that Ben stumbles, tripping over the edge of your bed and onto the ground with a loud thud that you try to cover with a cough.

"Who is it?" You ask, voice frantic.

"It's your father."

Your wide eyes lock with Ben's, who doesn't look nearly afraid enough. "Get under the bed-" You whisper-yell.

"I love it when you order me around." Ben smirks as your cheeks flush and his eyes trace your figure one more time in a way that makes you burn.

"Ben!" You hiss.

He crawls under the bed and you grab your bathrobe, wrapping it around yourself before saying "Come in."

Your father enters, a glass of scotch clasped in his hand. His black suit is impeccable, perfectly tailored to him, as it should be, he was, after all, one of the most powerful men in Philadelphia.

His gaze sweeps the room for a moment as if looking for someone, tracing over your bed once, and you think you see the end of his lip quirk for a minute, but then it fades.

"Hi." You smile at him, your cheeks still flushed, heart beat pounding against your ribcage.

Don't look under the bed. Don't look under the bed. Don't look under the bed.

"I apologize for the intrusion, I just wanted to say goodnight." He crosses the room to hug you with one arm. You can smell the tobacco from his nightly smoke on his jacket. You and your father had always been a bit closer than you and your mother. Especially when you were younger and you'd sit in the parlor at his feet watching him smoke his pipe before bed. Over the past few years you hadn't been able to spend as much time together, and it made you sad to think that you were growing apart from him.

"Did you have a good birthday?" He pushes back some of the hair that's fallen into your face with a warm smile.

"Yes I did. Ben got me some new brushes and I got to try them out today when we went to the park."

"That was nice of him." Your father smiles for a minute before he takes a sip from his scotch. "I saw you dancing with Howard Stine."

"Yeah. He's…" Boring. "Nice."

"Hmm." Your father nods. "He's from a good family. Your mother certainly thinks that he's suitable-" He pauses. "But I'm not sure he's right for you."

"It was just a dance. I don't think that makes anything official." You laugh.

Please let my future not end with Howard Stine.

Your father shrugs his shoulders and takes another sip of his scotch. "Your mother and I started with just a dance." The look in his eyes changes for a moment and you wonder if he's reliving the memory of them together. It was moments like this when you saw how much your father loved your mother. It was difficult for you to understand given everything that she'd said to you over the years, but it brought you joy that your father was happy. He shakes his head as if pushing it away. "You always seem happier after you've spent time with Benjamin."

Your cheeks flush bright red, knowing that Ben can hear the conversation. "We're just friends."

"Perhaps." His lips twitch. "So you did have fun at the park? Any new paintings?"

"A few."

"May I see?"

Usually you liked when your father looked at your work, but the thought that Ben was hiding under your bed and could be discovered at any minute, set you on edge.

"Sure." You walk around the bed to get your watercolor pad on your bedside table, before holding it out over the bed for your father. And just as he takes it, Ben's large hand fastens around your ankle. You clear your throat, kicking your foot to get him to let go, but he doesn't release it and you can hear his muffled laugh.

"These are quite something." He flips through the pages, finally stopping on the one of Ben from this morning. "I can't believe he sat still long enough for you to paint him."

"Ben is difficult. ALL the time." You grit out, kicking with your foot again, but he doesn't let go. "And annoying." You grumble low enough for only Ben to hear.

"Yes. I believe that." Your father hands you back the pad of paper. "But he certainly makes you happy, and that's all I want for you."

"Dad-"

He smiles, but shakes his head at you. "Goodnight darling." Your father turns to walk towards the door before he stops. "Your mother will be coming upstairs in a few minutes, perhaps Ben should not be here when she does." And then he leaves.

Your entire body flushes bright red with embarrassment. HOW DID HE KNOW THAT BEN WAS HERE?

Ben crawls out from under your bed holding back laughter.

"It's not funny!" You snap.

"Kinda funny." He smiles. "Do you think he's going to tell your mom?"

"No. I mean I hope not. I think if he does, she'd nail the window shut and cut the tree down." You stand there for a second. "But you should go if she's coming."

"I could hide in the closet this time, see if she can find me?" Ben jokes.

"It's not hide and go seek or Marco Polo!"

Ben laughs at you, before his expression turns serious. "Are you sure you want me to go?" You know that he's asking you that because he knows that no matter what your mother wants to speak to you about will not end well.

"I'm fine Ben. Go. It'll be okay." You smile despite your rising nerves.

"Okay."

He stands there for another beat, eyes dropping to your robe, and for a second you believe that he's thinking about how you looked a minute ago. Your cheeks flush at the memory, feeling his hands trace your spine to loosen the corset, and then how they felt on your waist. What would have happened if my father didn't come in?

"I'll see you tomorrow. I still have five days of freedom before boarding school number seven and I'd like to spend at least one at a baseball game." He finally says.

"Sounds boring."

"I can always take Missy." He replies smugly.

"And by boring I mean it sounds like everything I've ever wanted." You force a smile.

"That's what I thought."

But before he leaves, he pulls you into a hug.

"Goodnight y/n. Happy Birthday."

"Goodnight Ben." You say into his shoulder.

And then he vanishes out your window without another word, leaving you with the memory of what almost happened, and the rising dread that your mother was going to come in at any minute.

*********************

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Also, everyone say thank you to @deans-spinster-witch for giving me an idea for this chapter! ❤️

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