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slttygeto · 7 months

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SWEAR IT’S JUST RIGHT FOR YOU. | NANAMI. K

જ⁀➴ synopsis: when you and nanami are equally as obsessed with each other, it creates this perfect balance. you cook for him, and he treats your pussy like it’s a blessing.

જ⁀➴word count: 3,3k

જ⁀➴ c.w: pure filth with a bit of fluff, soft dom! nanami, he turns a bit rough towards the end, rough facefucking, cunnilingus + fingering, dirty talk + praise, riding, multiple orgasms + squirting.

When Nanami praises you, it’s soft, gentle and endearing. His rough palm gently collides with the soft skin of your jaw and his thumb traces your cheek. He is reminding you of how much you mean to him, how he would burn the entire world if it meant keeping you safe and protected. You are his fairy, his delicate girl whom he could never imagine even raising his voice at. When he scolds you, his voice is stern and filled with worry despite the displeased tone, his hand grabs at your shoulder not to hurt you, and you want to caress your thumb over his forehead and get him to stop furrowing his eyebrows so deeply.

“You’ll get wrinkles, Ken.” Your voice pulls him out of his displeased state for a moment, and Kento hears birds chirping outside of the window and the sunbeam caresses your skin—It hits your beautiful eyes and he takes in every detail; your eyebrows, the slight discoloration the bottom of your jaw, the mole that seems to bring out the beauty in you even more, your eyelashes that aren’t curled but naturally have a pretty shape to them and he heaves out a sigh. He is consumed by love wherever you are near.

Heaven knows how much the man craved domesticity. He found comfort in it—a routine, a promise that when he comes home, he gets to take off his brown shoes at the front door, put his keys in the small bowl that has a mirror hanging right above it. He would then look at his reflection in the mirror and look away immediately when he notices the sweat stains as he removes his jacket. He hears your footsteps as you rush out of the kitchen with a pretty apron around your waist. You made bread, and Nanami isn’t sure whether to be infatuated by the smell of it, or the smell of your hair that hits his nostrils as you wrap your arms around his waist.

He wouldn’t care that your hair is slightly damp, but he would breathe out how the tank top you were wearing was going to get you sick if you don’t watch out. And Kento cares a lot about your comfort, he respects you a lot, so when you hug his sweaty self, his hands would gently try to remove your arms from around him and protest that he was dirty.

“It’s all hard work, Ken. I like it.” To which he wouldn’t say much but give in and let you hold him. He understands that to an extent, having a natural smell like this was attractive, he’s always told you that he likes it when you come home complaining about sweating too much and all he says is that it makes you even more attractive. Your flushed cheeks, your hair sticking up in small antennas, your nose scrunching up at how disgusting it feels to have your shirt cling onto your skin—

“Can I join you in the shower?” Which always catches you off guard, but you accept of course and Nanami sets his book down, he removes his glass and folds them neatly on top of the book before following right behind you in the bathroom. You giggle nervously when you see him close the door and lock it before leaning against it, and you let out a small and timid ‘what?’ when he keeps eyeing with the same intense eyes.

“You are beautiful.” He never denies that he is looking at you—admiring you, but instead reminds you every time that nothing in the world can change his mind about his infatuation with you.

And somewhere in between that comforting thought of coming home to you, a show playing on TV in the living room, bread baking in the oven and the smell of a clean home—Nanami dreams of fucking you stupid on the couch. He wouldn’t remove your apron, he wouldn’t let you wash your hands off of the flour—he would simply drop his pants, push your shorts down and spread your legs only to find out that you weren’t wearing any panties.

He feels sick to his stomach at thought, sighs and rubs his forehead at the fact that he was imagining such dirty things to do with you. If it were a normal fantasy like coming home and fucking you on the bed, he wouldn’t feel that bad. But that was the thing about fantasies, they existed in our head without our control, and it was up to us to act out on them or not. Kento cherished you too much to scare you off with his oh-so-called sick and twisted fantasy of his.

He comes home after a long day at work, and it’s a few minutes past seven. The house isn’t quiet, there is a show playing in the background and that was the first thing that had Kento stop dead in his tracks. He chooses to brush it off and simply rids himself of his jacket and shoes, sets his keys on the bowl before the smell of bread hits his nostrils and his lips part in confusion.

Was he dreaming? Did he somehow astral project into another dimension where his fantasy was a reality? It only confuses him further when you come out of the kitchen wearing an apron—in this reality though, you’ve chosen to wear one of his shirts instead, and Nanami doesn’t know if it’s better or worse. He tries to hide it, the way he can feel his cock hardening in his pants as you approach him with his shirt, fuzzy socks and hands that had traces of flour on them.

“You’re home.” Is how you greet him, your cheek resting on his chest and melting against his body as you breathe in his scent, a constant reminder that you get to be greeted with this sight five times a week around the same time. You boyfriend’s hand travels up to the back of your head and his fingers comb through your hair as he hums a tired response.

“Did you miss me?” Obviously, is what you want to say. But instead, when you look up at him and notice his hooded eyes, you feel his other rest on the small of your back and your heart leaps in your chest. All of a sudden, you feel hot and you feel something poking at you and you’re just surprised.

It was normal for your boyfriend to have needs, you were used to the sexual frustration that comes with having such a stressful job—but normally, Kento would avoid initiating anything with you until he’s showered and made sure he was clean. For him to insinuate that he wanted you, and so loudly with those eyes—you could feel your panties getting ruined.

“Pretty girl,” he calls out for you again when he notices your silence and the hand resting on your waist holds your chin whilst the other firmly grabs your hair. “Did you miss me?” He asks again, stern and you nod. You missed him too much, you realize. Because the lack of conversation beside greeting him and telling him he’s home—all of it was intensifying the sexual tension. It was almost like your body was warning you that Kento wasn’t going to go easy on you this time and you felt jittery.

“I missed you, Kento. Did you miss me?” You say as your hands grab onto his blouse in fists. You bring him closer to you, and gasp when you feel his hand travel down to hold your neck. He isn’t trying to cut your air, but when you make eye contact with him and see that his face has darkened, you let out a small noise.

“Let me show you instead.”

On the couch, Nanami wastes no time to attach his lips to yours and kiss you breathless. He was such a good kisser, always so passionate, always making sure to tease the corner of your lips before biting nibbling here and there—and fuck, did he lose his mind every time you tried to suck on his tongue. He would just push you on your back and cage you between his strong arms.

Nanami feels like he is constantly losing his breath whenever you are near, but when you grab onto his forearms and moan, he goes feral. Suddenly, he is reminded of how much weaker you are compared to him—frail, delicate, soft and sensitive to his touch. He is lucky, he is blessed and he makes sure to spoil you and that pretty pussy.

His kisses trail all the way down from your neck to your collarbones, his takes a whiff of your perfume and hums.

“You smell so sweet,” he mumbles against your skin. Instead of removing your apron and shirt, he pushes them up to reveal the cute panties that you were wearing and his finger traces the wet patch that’s already formed.

“Kento,” you call out to your boyfriend breathless, desperate—as though you were on a deserted island and he was the water to quench your thirst. Your legs spread on instinct for the man to settle between them and you feel his hot breath right against your panties.

“But you smell even better here… Right here,” he says and he pushes your panties to the side to reveal the wet mess hiding behind the fabric. You prop yourself up a bit higher to be able to look at Nanami while he eats you out, and you blush when you notice that he’s already staring at you.

“Up.” He pats your ass and you lift up your hips to allow him to remove your panties for you, but instead of throwing them on the floor, you see him take a whiff of the fabric and sigh and your blush darkens.

“Can I keep these, my love?” He asks sweetly, voice so deep you felt like your pussy was embarrassing you with how wet it was and you mindlessly nod. “Is that so?” He knew you wouldn’t say no, but he still wanted to thank you for trusting him with his perverted intentions.

“You’re too good for me.” Is the last thing that you hear from him before he dives between your legs and fuck—he is too good. You know Nanami is good, you don’t doubt that he can make you cum as many times as he wants before reaching his own high, but something about him eating your pussy like a treat, enjoying every drop and sucking on your clit with the intention of making you lose your mind—that was too much.

You feel his lips wrap around your clit and he sucks before smothering his face in your pussy. His nose nudges at your clit while his tongue licks at your folds and you think that for a moment, maybe he is enjoying this more than you do. His hands grip your thighs to keep them in place, and when he notices that your legs are starting to shake and your hips are bucking up, he takes one look at you and his dick almost bursts.

Flushed chest, swollen lips and a fucked out face. If Nanami wasn’t already in love with your beauty, then he feels himself falling deeper for you. You fall apart on his tongue a couple of seconds later, he enjoys the way you gasp, moan and cry as he keeps his lips attached to your clit and you try to push his head away.

“Too much,” you gasp. “Kento!” you cry out when you feel his two fingers nudge at your folds and by this point, you are breathing too hard. You feel his thick finger prod at that one spongy spot almost immediately and your eyes roll to the back of your head.

He presses a hand to your stomach and praises are spilling from his lips like a chant, watching as your soul almost escaped your body with every thrust of his thick fingers perfectly against your spot.

“That’s right baby, you’re doing so good,” “this pussy takes me so well,” “you make me so proud, look at this pussy—fucking filthy,”

The mixture of praise and him losing his composure and cursing has you reaching your orgasm again faster than expected. But this time, you make a bit of a mess and you try to apologize for ruining the couch and his clothes but he is quick to shut you up with his lips.

“You’ve just squirted on me, and you want to apologize?” he mumbles against your cheek, fingers still buried inside you and you whine.

“I made a mess,” you try to reason with your beast of a boyfriend but he quickly retreats his fingers back and delivers a harsh smack to your pussy.

“It’s never been a problem when it’s our bed, has it?”

“Kento,” you call out softly when your boyfriend starts to kiss at your neck again. “Kento, fuck my mouth.” Nanami’s brain short circuits at this and the shock is evident on his features. He doesn’t have time to stop you or protest because you are quick to get off the couch and on your knees for him.

“You’ve been so good to me, keeping me satisfied and happy—I bet you want to fuck my mouth sometimes, don’t you?” Your hands are quickly unbuckling his belt. You don’t remove his pants completely, only enough to free his painfully hard cock from his boxers. Your hand wraps around the base of his cock and you watch as he throws his head back on the couch with each slow stroke.

“You don’t know what you are asking for,” is what he says as he tries to get you to back out of this, but you are determined to let him ruin your life. Him, the only man on this planet whom you would blindly trust with your life.

“I know what I am asking for.”

“I could hurt you,”

“I will tap your thigh if you do,” and then there’s a few moments of silence where Kento just stares deeply into your eyes. When you see him lean down towards you, your breath catches in your throat and your lips part in shock when his hand goes to the back of your head and the other one grips your jaw open.

“Open up.” And when you do, he rests the fat tip of his cock on your tongue. The pre-cum is a bit salty but you don’t say anything as you let Kento handle your mouth to his liking. He tells you to open up a bit more and breathe before he starts to thrust his dick in and out of your mouth at a slow pace.

You’re taking it well at first, but when you notice your boyfriend’s thighs shaking, indicating that he is holding back on you, you decide to take matters into your own hands. Quite literally.

Your hand wraps around the base of his cock and you push his dick down your throat, nose nuzzling against his pubes and he curses out loud.

“Fuck--!” You repeat the same motion over and over again, and by the third time, your boyfriend finally breaks and starts fucking your mouth like a starved man. Your knees burn, and so do your lungs—the couch is moving every time Kento brings your head back on his cock and you’ve braced yourself on his thighs for support.

“Sorry—fuck, I’m sorry baby,” he says between gritted teeth. However, when his eyes catch that you’re rubbing your swollen clit to the same rhythm of your head on his cock, something in him snaps.

He pushes you off of his cock, and any complaint you head is drowned out when he stands up and his cock stands proud. You look up at him from your spot on the floor and brace yourself on his thighs again when you feel him grab your face and push his cock inside your mouth.

“Filthy fucking girl,” he breathes out. “Can’t even let me be sweet to you—shit,” based on how difficult it is to even talk properly, you guess that he is close and so you sneak a hand between his legs and starts fondling with his balls—you squeeze them, and that’s when Nanami finally breaks and cums down your throat with a broken moan.

Even while trying to catch his breath, Nanami’s hands caress your face and neck as he takes a seat and pulls you closer to him. He then helps you get back up on your feet and pulls you on his lap to kiss you. He can taste himself on your tongue even after you’ve swallowed everything.

“Was I good?” You ask when he pulls away from your lips to kiss your cheek and down your neck once again, a pattern that he’s learned always turns you into putty.

“Perfect, my love. You are perfect for me.”

You are surprised at how fast he gets hard again, but you supposed it’s also because you were literally grinding your bare pussy against his dick. Your hands hold onto his shoulders for support as you try to slip his dick past your folds, but you let out a surprised noise when he easily lifts you up and aligns the tip of his cock with your pussy.

“Noticed that you like my arms a lot,” he says and you are obliged to stare at his forearms and good lord—the way they flex as they hold you above his cock, Nanami lets out an amused chuckle when he sees a string of arousal drip directly on top of his cock. “You do like them, huh?”

“Baby,” you whimper and Kento cannot find it in him to tease you any longer. He gently drops you down on his cock and he immediately gets to work. His hand rests on the small of your back and pushes you towards him to press your chest flush against his, his hands then grip your ass cheeks and he starts to slam you up and down on his cock with so much ease.

You sound like a mess. The combination of your boyfriend’s strong arms and the tip of his thick cock abusing your spot turns you into a blabbering mess on top of him.

“So good, so good—fuck, oh fuck,” sounded like music to his ears. Your whines your moans, your fucked out look and your eyes begging him to ruin you—Nanami was addicted to every part of you.

And it only takes a few more messy and sloppy thrusts from him and you cum around him with a loud cry.

“There you go,” he says breathlessly, feeling his own orgasm creeping up on him. “Make a mess on me, baby,”

You shake like a leaf on top of him, hands gripping onto his shirt for dear life and lips pressed against his neck.

“Think you can take a bit more for me? I’m really close, darling,”

“Hurry up,” you say desperately and as promised, Kento thrusts a few more times before he is cumming inside you with a loud groan. He buries his face in your neck, taking in your scent that has now been mixed with his own and a hint of sweat. He relaxes in your hold, hand tracing the small of your back as a way to get you to come down from your orgasm and perhaps even apologize for being a bit rough with you earlier.

All of his worries are brushed off when you pull away from him to press a kiss to his forehead, his nose then down to lips.

“I love you, Ken. I love you too much,” you announce, a hint of sleepiness to your voice and a smile finds its way to his face.

“I love you too, darling. I love you too much.”

2023 ; all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.

#moon's works #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #nanami kento #nanami smut #nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #jjk nanami #jujutsu kaisen headcanon #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen headers #jujutsu kaisen nanami #nanami kento x reader smut #nanami x reader smut #nanami kento smut #nanami fluff #nanami imagine

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feralthoughtdump · 4 months

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False God

Warnings: 18+, MINORS DNI, smut, threesome, alcohol and ambiguous substance consumption, lip biting, a little bit of blood, oral (m&f receiving), facefucking, spitroast, a lot of bodily fluids, squirting, a teeny bit of bi!Felix, a little bit of butt stuff, not fully canon compliant (let’s imagine that Felix didn’t find out about Oliver lying)

Word Count: 2k

Felix wasn’t the type who liked to share his toys. Whether it be his girlfriend, or his shiny new friend who comes to visit every summer, Felix felt a certain possession over them that he didn’t like to admit. But Oliver came to Saltburn with that woeful, wide-eyed gaze that Felix couldn’t fully resist. He also couldn’t deny how he looked at his girlfriend and how she looked at him. All of the shared glances across the dinner table, how she’d swallow when he had something witty to say to her, how his gaze would linger on her just a little bit longer than hers.

Felix trusted her, he knew that she’d never go behind his back. And it’s the trust he holds in her that fuels his desire to let this happen. He adores her. Especially now with her, as Farleigh calls it, slutty fairy costume, and he’d do anything to make her happy, even if it meant letting Oliver touch her in ways that were solely reserved for him.

So, the three of them find themselves in this predicament, with her draped against him, and Oliver leaning against the doorway.

“Baby, know Oliver, right?” She nods, pressing herself closer to his chest. Felix wraps a comforting arm around her midriff, rubbing circles into her exposed skin with his thumb. “It’s his birthday today, and I thought this would be a nice present.”

His lips pressed against her neck, her pulse thrumming against them, while his hands wandered, pushing the little skirt that she wore past her hips, exposing the intricate set that he bought for this occasion.

Oliver grins, stepping closer to the pair. He looks at her, the antlers on his head casting a shadow over her glittery doe eyes.

“She’s a very nice present.” His fingers push at the strap of her fairy wings, letting them fall to the ground with a soft clatter. “How’d you know I was into her?”

“Saw you looking.” He chuckles and expertly unclaspes the back of her lacy bra. “But I can’t blame you, she’s pretty.”

His large hand palms at her now exposed tits, rolling a nipple between his fingers.

She whines and lets her head fall back against his chest, still covered in the ribbed fabric of his tank top.

“Don’t tease, Felix.” She sighs.

Oliver approaches them, stripping himself of his embroidered suit in the process. The pair watch with bated breath as he sinks to his knees in front of her. He noses at the inside of her thigh, taking in how soft and plush she felt.

He savors her, kissing and nipping at her thighs, letting his fingers drift from her ankles up to her knees. As he pushes her legs apart, Felix thumbs at her pussy through her panties, creating a wet patch on the expensive lace.

“Can I give her a taste?” Oliver asks, lips parted and eyes gleaming, staring up at Felix.

“Of course you can.” Felix carefully positions her on the bed, her back flat on the mattress and Oliver places himself in front of her, right in between her thighs.

Her shaky fingers push the lace waistband past her hips, but Oliver stops her, letting his teeth catch on the fabric to do it himself. He hums at the sight of her pussy, all wet and wanting.

Felix places himself over her, jerking at his cock as Oliver licks a strip along the length of her folds.

She yelps, pulling back, oversensitive from Felix’s previous ministrations, but he tightens his hold on her, keeping her in place.

“C’mon, be a good girl. Let him make you feel good.” She turns her head, bashful at how his words affect her, but he takes her chin and forces her eyes to meet his. “You’ll be good for Ollie, for me. Won’t you?”

She licks her lips, shallow breaths making her chest rise and fall.

“Yeah, I’ll be good,” she whispers.

He smiles, and affectionately pats her cheek, and her thighs widen as she shifts against the mattress, trying to relax.

With a nod of approval from Felix, Oliver grabs her thighs and pulls her onto his face. His tongue laps at her, circling her clit and teasing at her entrance.

As she parts her lips, moaning at the heat that grows in the pit of her stomach, Felix places his thumb against her tongue, keeping her jaw open. He takes this as an opportunity to slip his cock into her wanting mouth. She sputters around him as the length of his shaft fills her mouth.

“Fuck.” He groans. “Taking me so well, baby.”

Felix fucks himself into her mouth, letting his tip hit the back of her throat. She hollows her cheeks before sucking, letting her lips wrap tight around his shaft, saliva dripping past her lips with every drag of his cock.

Oliver wraps lips around her clit and slips two fingers into her dripping entrance. His fingers curl and she cries out.

“Do that again,” Felix demands. “She likes it.”

He angles his fingers, letting the pads of his fingers press against her G-spot. At the sight of her legs shaking, he curls his fingers, practically forcing her hips to jerk against his face.

She feels her body tense, falling closer and closer to the edge, as Oliver teases her, over and over again. Her arousal, in combination with his saliva, is spread across his lips.

It’s messy, but none of them care. Both she and Felix love the sight of his flushed cheeks, eyes half-lidded in pleasure from the way her cunt tastes.

“Don’t let her cum yet” he breathily orders “Have her suck you off first.”

Felix manhandles her onto her knees and crawls onto the mattress, he taps his cock against cunt, dripping with a mixture of both her arousal and Oliver’s saliva. She looks up at Oliver, keeping her mouth open and drooling, and sticks out her tongue, an open invitation for him to start fucking her face.

“So well behaved,” Oliver whispers, tapping his hard, flushed cock on her tongue, pre-cum dripping down into her throat. “You’re Felix’s good girl, aren’t you?”

Before she can respond, Oliver shoves his cock past her lips and Felix pushes himself inside her, forcing all of him into her cunt. She yelps around Oliver’s cock, the vibrations from the back of her throat making him shudder.

The sound of skin slapping against one another fills the room as Felix fucks into her, letting his hips slam against hers.

The reflection in the mirror across from them is obscene. Her chin is covered in her own drool, smeared across her cheeks and chin, dripping onto the expensive sheets. Felix has his head thrown back in pleasure, hands on her hips with a bruising hold, sweat gleaming on his skin, soaking through the front of his thin tank top.

Oliver takes Felix’s face and plasters his lips against his. He’s taken by surprise, but he grabs the back of Oliver’s neck and pulls him in closer, forcing Oliver’s hips to push his cock deeper into her mouth. She grabs at the back of Oliver’s thigh, digging her nails into his skin. He hisses at the sting and bites down on Felix’s lower lip, a metallic taste blooming on his tongue.

They pull away from each other, and blood trickles down Felix’s chin.

Oliver stares at Felix, about to apologize, but Felix grins. “I could taste her on you, you know? Doesn’t she taste good?”

All he can do is nod in agreement, cock twitching in her mouth.

Oliver nods and leans forward, licking up the blood pooling on Felix’s lips. The pair lock their lips together. Wet sounds of their kisses and Felix’s cock being sucked into her pussy reverberate throughout the room, accompanied by her gagging and choking.

She whines, drawing both of their attention back to her.

“Aww, my baby needs some attention?” At the sound of her whimpering in confirmation, Felix chuckles, shaking his head. “I’ll give you some attention then.”

Felix reaches forward, pressing his thumb into Oliver’s open mouth, biting his lip at the sight of him swirling his tongue around the digit. With a loud pop, Felix removed his thumb from Oliver’s mouth.

Wet with Oliver’s saliva, Felix’s thumb circles her other hole, slowly teasing it open. She whines, feeling a foreign stretch as his thumb pushes past the muscle.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ tight.” He groans. “Don’t know why I haven’t fucked your tight little ass yet. Maybe I should tomorrow, I know your pussy’s going to be sore.”

Her holes clench around Felix, the feeling of fullness, overtaking her body. She shudders, legs about to give out underneath her, as he forcefully drives his cock into her and teases at her hole, letting his thumb push against the rim, stretching it open.

“Oh, she likes that, doesn’t she?” Oliver grins, messily grabbing at the length of her hair, forcing her to look at him. “You like it dirty? Like getting all of your holes filled?”

She blinks away the dark streaks of mascara that run down her face, trying her best to nod. He lets his cock slip free of her lips and gives her cheek a pinch.

“Come on, use your words.”

“Yes,” She gasps, back arching, pushing herself into Felix. “I like it.”

He presses her front into the mattress, forcing her back to arch deeper into Felix. His fingers wrap around his hard, leaking cock, letting her spit lubricate his hand as he tugs, slowly bringing himself closer and closer to his own release.

She tightens around Felix, whining as she feels an oncoming orgasm about to wash over her.

Her glassy eyes look up at Oliver’s and he coos, thumbing at her cheek.

“You’re gonna cum, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Ollie, I- ah!”

Felix lets his thumb hook inside of her clenching muscle, pulling her into him.

His cock buries deep inside of her, forcing itself against her cervix. She screams, and Oliver is thankful for the loud music playing throughout the house. Her arousal gushes, spraying against both her, and Felix’s thighs.

“Fuck, baby, making a mess over here.” Felix groans. His head falls back, panting, his grip on her tightening.

His hips still, with tense thighs and stifled moans, he cums, coating her insides. Carefully, he slips himself out, using his fingers to spread her pussy open, watching with pride as his cum and her arousal drip out of her clenching, gaping cunt.

Oliver pushes his cock back into her mouth, releasing down her throat. Her eyes tear up at the sudden intrusion. She’s overwhelmed and over-sensitive, but she swallows around him, obedient as always.

The trio collapses on the mattress, chests rising and falling in tandem. Felix wraps a strong arm around her and pulls her in close, letting her temple rest on his chest. Oliver gently grazes her shoulders with his fingers, calming her down and letting her shaky and twitchy body slowly fall still.

The lights of the party filter through the large windows, illuminating their sweat-slicked bodies. They shimmer, her body glitter having rubbed onto each other.

Distanced from the commotion happening outside of his room, it was just the three of them, sprawled across Felix’s bed. It was the three of them. Felix, their shining Adonis, and her and Oliver. Felix’s favorite toys.

#saltburn #oliver quick #felix catton #felix catton x reader #felix catton x y/n #felix catton x you #oliver quick x reader #oliver quick imagine #felix catton imagine #felix catton smut #oliver quick smut #saltburn fanfiction #saltburn fic #felix catton x oliver quick #felix catton x reader x oliver quick

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ajortga · 20 days

Text

bear hugs

pairing: tara carpenter x pouty reader

summary: you can't fall asleep until your nestled in your girlfriends arms and kisses.

word count: 600+ (drabble)

It's been 30 minutes, and you can't sleep without feeling your girlfriend by your side.

"Y/N, I still have homework sunshine, I promise we can cuddle when I finish, it'll only take me 15 minutes."

A whine pasts your lips as you kick your feet on your bed, the only light from the salt lamps, fairy lights, and night light.

"Pleeeeaseeee"

She giggles, pressing her lips to your forehead, "Soon baby."

"Nooooo," you groan, sleepily as you twist and turn in bed, "Whyyy can't youuuu?"

"I just need to finish this baby, I'll almost be done," she coaxes, opening her laptop and clicking away.

You grunt putting on your most innocent look as your curled up into bed and watching her every move, "Pleaseeee? For me??.."

Tara doesn't even turn around, making you angry, well from this angle you just looked even cuter.

"It's not due till Wednesday, it's Monday. Tara baby pleasee it's not fairrrr.."

She hums, typing.

"You hate me," you say, getting out of bed and wrapping the blanket around you. You look like a grumpy child that got rejected from getting a stuffy at the toy store. You murmur angrily, making a small stomp before leaving the door. Tara hums.

Tara waited 5 small moments before she heard your footsteps and opened the door again, to see your tiny figure trod back to the bed, "Too cold, changed my mind." You say, voice a tiny as you don't look at Tara. Obviously mad.

A soft giggle past her lips, shaking her head as you flop into bed, groaning and complaining.

"I just want to cuddle with my girlfriend," you pout, stomping your leg and turning off your salt lamp. You turn away from her and cover yourself with a blanket, huffing. "Hmph, see if I care."

You care, too much. You had a bad day and you want your girlfriend who currently is not paying attention to you. You face the wall, arms crossed, "No fair."

You hear a sigh come out from her, her laptop immediately closing, "You know I can't say no to that," Tara whispers softly to herself. She slips on her t-shirt and some shorts as she crawls into bed, seeing the way your small figure wrapped in a blankety burrito. She untangles yourself from the blanket, seeing your tiny figure in a laced tank top and the fluffy heart pajama pants she gifted to you. Tara shuffles into the warmth of the blanket, seeing the way you shifted slightly.

"I'll cuddle with you," she whispers, pressing her lips to your ear and seeing the way you immediately turned around and scooted into her embrace, exhaling in happiness.

"Do that stupid assignment tomorrow, I can't sleep without you here," you say, looking sad as she plays with your hair and scratches your scalp, making you coo.

"Okay okay," she laughs breathily, "I'll ask Mindy to finish it, I know she took answers from Anika, but hush, you haven't been able to sleep for the past hour."

You murmur, breathing in her scent that immediately comforts you. A soft yawn passes your lips, "Because..." yawn "I can't fall asleep without my girlfriend.." your voice trails off, slowly growing sleepy.

"I know, but I'm here now, go to sleep," she whispers, kissing your lips softly before spooning you, you turn back around and nuzzle into her chest. She rubs circles behind your back, knowing the way it makes you fall asleep much quicker.

No longer than 3 minutes later does a soft snore sound throughout the room, making Tara smile and turn off the light before wrapping her arms around you and pulling you closer.

#vada cavell x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x fem!reader #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega x reader #tara carpenter x you #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna marie ortega #vada cavell x y/n #jenna ortega imagine

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voidpetrova · 7 months

Text

best friend's brother — jeremy gilbert x reader

a/n: this is a requested fic, but i lost the inbox that was sent to me :( so here's a big shoutout to the sweetheart that requested a smutty BFB!jeremy fic, bless their heart <3

☄. *. ⋆

content warnings and genre: clichés, mutual pining, jealousy, p in v sex, unprotected sex, size kink, soft sex, slight degradation — smut

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

synopsis: your best friend's brother is the one for you, punk rock drummer and he's 6'2

✧.*

girlhood thrived in its purest form in the quiet, cozy confines of elena gilbert's room. the two of you were ensconced in an atmosphere of comfort, sporting matching pajamas—tank tops and shorts—a testament to the close bond you shared. you'd spent countless nights like this, painting your nails vibrant shades of red and talking about everything and nothing at all, all while the dulcet tones of green day provided the perfect backdrop.

tonight was no exception, and the room was bathed in a soft, warm glow from the fairy lights strung across the walls. elena's laughter filled the air as you swapped stories, occasionally sipping from your martini glasses. ot was a time when worries melted away, and you cherished these moments of simplicity.

just as you were discussing the latest school gossip, the door creaked open, and jeremy gilbert slipped inside. he claimed he was looking for a book, but it was no secret that he often used any excuse to check you out. elena, always the protective older sister, shot him a playful glare. you and jeremy had been seeing each other rather discreetly, but had yet to put a label on whatever it was you were doing. you did your best to hide it from elena, due to the unwanted presence of awkward tension and tense family game nights that were sure to follow.

“jeremy, seriously? can't you see we're having a girls' night?” elena chided, but there was a twinkle of amusement in her eyes. he pretended innocence, his lips curling into a half-smile. “sorry, just passing through. carry on, ladies.”

as he lingered for a moment, elena decided it was the perfect time to drop a little bombshell into your conversation. “oh, by the way, tyler lockwood has been asking about you.” jeremy's scoff was almost immediate, and he couldn't resist adding a snarky comment. “tyler lockwood, really? what's he after now?”

elena raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. “jeremy, are you jealous?” she teased. he blushed slightly, but vehemently denied it. “of course not. i just think he's not the right guy for (y/n).”

with a sly grin, elena decided to stir the pot further. “well, (y/n), maybe you should give ty a chance. what do you say?” jeremy excused himself from the room, muttering something about needing to find that book. but before he left, his eyes locked onto you, his jealousy thinly veiled behind a casual facade.

after elena drifted off to sleep during a particularly dramatic scene in twilight, you felt the way your phone buzzed softly. it was a message from jeremy, and the anticipation of sneaking away to his room sent a thrill through you. you tiptoed out of elena's room, careful not to wake her, and made your way to jeremy's. as you entered his room, he greeted you with a sly smile. “so, tyler lockwood, huh? you really considering going out with him?”

you couldn't help but chuckle at his obvious jealousy. “oh, come on, jer. you're not fooling anyone. you're totally jealous.” jeremy feigned innocence once more, but his eyes betrayed him. “me? jealous? please.”

you moved closer, enjoying this playful banter. “i think you're just worried that tyler might steal me away.” he rolled his eyes, a grin tugging at his lips. “as if anyone could.”

you laughed as you playfully poked his chest. “well, maybe you should be more convincing next time.”

jeremy's expression softened, and he pulled you closer. “you know i don't want anyone else. i just can't stand the thought of you with someone like tyler.” you leaned in, brushing your lips against his. “don't worry, jeremy. you're the only one i want.”

your words were convincing—convincing enough for him to finally press his lips against yours, the hours of built-up tension finally exploding. one of his hands dropped to cup your cheek, a subtle way to pull you in closer, your lips melting into one another with a sweet tenderness, while his other freely trailed down your collarbone, tracing the delicate structure of your body, caressing your neck and throat before sweetly dropping down to the valley of your breasts. for a split second, he felt his eyes open. he couldn't control himself, he just had to look at you, admiring the way your tits were peeking from your tank top—the one that was just a bit too tight and a bit too revealing.

a wave of possessiveness crashed over him, even when he shut his eyes once more. he couldn't bear to imagine anybody, let alone tyler lockwood, getting their hands on someone as perfect as you. he couldn't imagine someone admiring you the way he did—not your face, your mannerisms, let alone the way your tits were out for him, or how your ass was arched back, peeking through the incredibly short shorts. it made him furious, and he let you know it.

“you're so fucking perfect,” he murmured as he pulled away from the kiss, the taste of vodka and mint lingering on his tongue as he dropped down to your neck, attacking the sensitive skin with his lips as teeth as he grabbed your hair, pulling you further into his touch. “won't let anyone else have you.” his words made you shiver, practically. your own hands found themselves tangling into the threads of his silky, dark hair as you moaned his name.

he loved every second of it. he knew it the second he saw you, and all he could do was savor you. his lips left brutal marks on your neck, providing you with an excellent problem to deal with before elena woke up. they travelled down to the valley of your breasts, nipping at your tits through the thin material of your top. all the material did was piss him off, arousing growls at the unnecessary barrier of clothing. he practically tore it off, leaving you in nothing but the incredibly slutty shorts. “jer,” you whined, glossy eyes locking with his as he continued to toy with your breasts, fingertips twirling your nipples as he licked at the fat. “elena's gonna kill me.”

he didn't pay much attention to the future consequences of your doing. “it's all good, baby,” he muttered quietly, the rough surface of his tongue drawing circles into your nipple, before sliding down your stomach gracefully. he only stopped to discard his own clothing. “just another reason to get you into my clothes, so what?”

you didn't even have time to laugh, not while he was in front of you, body seeming to have been sculpted by greek gods. you admired his toned muscles, the way his biceps were bigger than your head, and the way his stomach carried muscles that hinted at hard work—blood, sweat, and tears put into transforming his frame. “almost like you're afraid to touch me.” he taunted, but he knew you weren't. not with the ways your hands subconsciously caressed his frame, small hands wrapping around his biceps and tracing his abs. he was so much bigger than you, and he absolutely loved it.

you knew it the minute he started fucking you—he was truly twice your size. with his throbbing, long cock splitting your tiny, tight pussy open, you knew it. he knew the moans that left your mouth, however a turn-on, were also a potential danger, threatening to awaken elena from her peaceful slumber. his hand covered your mouth, your eyes shutting tight at the way he fucked you, nice and hard. you bit down on his hand, similarly to how your pussy clenched his pulsating dick, and he felt as if he were about to lose it.

“so fucking tight,” he attempted to silence his own moans, speaking through pants and gasps as his gaze dropped to your swollen cunt, greedy and desperate as he watched the way it swallowed him whole. it made him want to ruin you in the best way possible. “who's my greedy little girl, huh?” you whined at the pressure, at the way his words sent slick down his shaft, and he damn well noticed it. his free hand dropped to your lower stomach, pressing against it as he fucked himself deeper into your slippery cunt, the juices threatening to slip his dick out of you completely. he watched the way he could practically feel himself in your stomach, your tight little pussy barely taking what he had to give to you. it encouraged him to fuck you as he leaned back, giving you all the more of his cock.

your eyes rolled into the back of your head at the sensation, his balls the only part of him that had yet to slip into you. “too much, jer,” you whined against his palm, but it was too much for him, too. he knew he was close, watching the way your tits bounced with every forceful thrust of his, the way yours thighs shook under his touch, and the way your pussy fluttered, barely allowing him to pull out. he knew he was done for.

in fact, there was no way he was pulling out, but the two of you were too entranced to care about it. his thrusts grew more sloppy and desperate, hips pounding into your pelvis as he chased his own orgasm. his fingers finally left your mouth, your moans under nobody's control but your own as he rubbed at your clit gently, thumbing the wet and sensitive bundle of nerves as he continued to pound into you. you were close, and he knew it.

it was the first time you had came at the same time. you felt the way hot, thick spurts of cum shot into your wet, sweet cunt, and at the same time, your own orgasm washed over you, juices flooding out of you, coating his angry cock as moans left your mouths, the ability to control yourselves long gone. he pressed his forehead onto yours, placing sloppy kisses onto your lips as his cum pooled inside you, unable to slip out of you as his dick softened from inside your pussy. there was truly no way for you to feel empty with jeremy by your side.

“does this mean you won't go out with tyler?” his hands pushed away your loose strands of hair, ones that had been tainted with sweat and saliva. you smiled, small fingers wrapping around his wrists as you placed a sweet kiss to his palm.

“no, actually, my best friend's brother is the one for me.”

#tvd #the vampire diaries #tvd smut #tvd angst #tvd fluff #the vampire diaries smut #the vampire diaries angst #the vampire diaries fluff #jeremy gilbert #jeremy gilbert imagine #jeremy gilbert fluff #jeremy gilbert fanfiction #jeremy gilbert x reader #jeremy gilbert smut #jeremy x reader #jeremy gilbert angst #best friend's brother #bfb #i love jeremy gilbert

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jamespotterismydaddy · 10 months

Text

Daddy’s Girl

stepdad!daemon x reader smut

TW: smut, DUBCON, maybe could be called noncon, degrading, rough sex

last part next part

wordcount: 933 words

A/N: this is inspired by an urban dictionary definition of ‘tooth fairy’

You’re barely legal, his kittenish little stepdaughter, and because of that, he had planned to leave you be but you seem to get off on teasing him. You walk around the house in tiny little crop tops and skirts so short that he can see your panties. He didn’t even think it was possible for a man his age but he gets a tent in his pants every time he looks at you. Though, that’s not all, you’ve been getting more bold recently. When your mother wasn’t home, you would leave your door ajar ever so slightly so he could watch you play with yourself. Just last night, you were wearing a revealing, lingerie nightgown as you went to fetch some ice cream. When you bent over to reach the freezer, your nightgown had ridden up and you flashed him your bare pussy. He knows you should be out of bounds but now? He’s too pent up to care.

He can hear you in the bathroom, doing your little wake-up routine and he’s had a nice wake-up of morning wood. He looks at your mother, who’s still sleeping, and thinks he could rouse her and have her suck his cock. It would get him off but it wouldn’t satisfy him.

You would satisfy him.

He gets up and wanders down the hall to your bathroom. The door is wide open. You have a slutty pair of pjs on: a tank top and bottoms that fit tight to your ass. He looks at you as you brush your teeth, dirty thoughts filling his head at the sight of the white toothpaste around your mouth.

“Good morning.” He says as he walks in, wearing only his boxers.

“Mor-neugh.” You mumble through your tooth-brushing. You look a little confused as he closes the door. You can’t even see him stroking his dick behind you. You brush it off and bend over the sink to spit out your toothpaste. Before you have a chance to react, your pj bottoms and panties are pulled down in one swift motion.

“Daem-” You’re cut off by your own strangled moan as he shoves his thick cock inside of you.

“What are you doing!?” He slams a hand over your mouth as he begins to brutally fuck into you.

“Shut the fuck up right now.” He whispers as he splits you open on his massive cock. “You wouldn’t want your mother waking up, would you?”

Tears spring to your eyes but you shake your head.

“Good girl.” He says and he takes his hand off your mouth but you can’t stop whimpering so he covers it again. “It’s ok, little girl. Daddy just had a need this morning that could only be sated by your lovely body.” He can see your cute hands going behind your back to try and push him away and he laughs at the pathetic attempt. He grabs both your wrists with one hand and pins them behind your back. The hand that was covering your mouth grips your hair and yanks it so you’re pulled up against his chest. “Don’t do that again.” He warns in a deep tone.

“But, daddy it hurtsss.” You whine. He scoffs and pushes you back down, his hand covering your mouth again.

“You deserve it for acting like a cheap slut last night. Do you know how badly I wanted to fuck you then? But I held myself back.” He continues to slam his cock into you roughly. “I won’t be holding back anymore.” The tears begin to fall from your eyes but it just turns him on more. “I’m gonna let your hands go now but only so you can lift that top off to show me those perky tits, okay?” He asks you and you nod. You immediately lift up your tank top so he can see your chest in the mirror. His hand goes around to squeeze your left breast and it’s lucky he’s covering your mouth because he suppresses what would have been a very loud moan. “Good girl.” He feels you clench around him at the praise. “Oh you like that, do you? You like it when your stepfather forces open that tight little cunt with his cock.” He takes his hand off your mouth. “Say it. Say you love it.”

“I-I love it when you fu-fuck me, daddy.” You barely manage to get out the words as his hips slam against yours.

“My sweet princess.” He holds your chin in his hand, rubbing your lip with his thumb. He lifts your chin slightly so you have to see yourself in the mirror. “Look at what a mess you are. Daddy has really ruined you. Is this the first time you’ve taken cock?”

“Y-Yes.” You whimper.

“Oh you poor thing.” His hand comes around to rub your pearl, at least giving you some pleasure as he fucks you so ruthlessly. He’s fairly surprised when you cum instantly. “My my I guess you like this even more than I thought.” He laughs at you again, making you blush before his hips start to stutter. His pace slows and he finally shoots his load into you.

“Ah…” You wince as he pulls himself out.

“Go to your room and get back into bed. You and I are going to have a little ‘sick day’ and have some fun while mommy is at work.” He gives you no chance to protest as he pulls his boxers up and leaves you there, bent over the countertop with your panties around your ankles and his cum dripping down your leg.

taglist (comment to be added): @valeskafics @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies

#daemon targaryen #daemon smut #daemon targaryen smut #daemon x reader #hotd #hotd smut

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lovelytsunoda · 6 months

Text

954 // logan sargeant

summary: florida man fucks shy college girl. or, back home in fort lauderdale y/n’s welcome home party is sabotaged by her race winner brother, and it gives her a bit of a complex. at least her brothers best friend is there to make her feel better about it.

pairing: logan sargeant x female kirkwood! reader

warnings: straight up smut, kyle kirkwood is a lot to handle in large doses (but we love him anyways), feelings of anxiety, minor sibling rivalry, body image issues. i am going to hell, littered with spelling mistakes because of how fast I was typing and pure laziness to go back and fix it

author's note: 954 is the area code for fort lauderdale. and technically kyle kirkwood lives in jupiter, but for the sake of the story let's pretend he's also from lauderdale.

she sat at the edge of the pier, jeans rolled up past her shins as she started off into the horizon, watching the sun dip below the ocean line.

“it’s your party, what are you doing out here alone?”

she rolled her eyes, pulling her feet out of the water before following the voice. “why do you think? kyle hijacked it. I’m back home for less than a day and he’s already stealing the spotlight again.”

that was the way it always went in the kirkwood household: y/n came home from school, and everything was great, and then kyle waltzes in and suddenly everything is about him again.

logan shook his head, settling onto the pier next to her, a gentle hand resting on her thigh. she shrugged it off, anxiously twisting one of the rings on her hand.

“you know he doesn’t do it on purpose, right?” logan soothed “he loves you, and he hates that you feel like this.”

“i know. the inferiority complex is all me.”

“it’s not a complex, and your feelings are valid.”

she shook her head. “everyone tells me i shouldn’t have quit karting. even when it made me hate myself.”

she sighed, laying down on the pier, worn wood scratching at her skin, but not splintering against her baby pink tank top. “what am I doing with my life, logan?”

“hey, look at me.” logan encouraged, fingertips against her chin to angle her face towards him. “you are doing great things. deans list every semester, you’re a great artist and I’d be shocked if firms weren’t lining up to hire you as a litigator.”

“you’re just saying that.” she refused to meet his eyes. logan was kyles best friend, for god sakes. she’d crumble under his stare, his touch.

“but I’m not.” logan insisted, gripping her face now, making her look at him. she needed to know how wonderful she was, and he was going to be the one to tel her. “you are smart and funny and all kinds of wonderful, kirkwood. any guy would be lucky to have you, and anyone else should consider themselves blessed to have you as a friend.”

“you really mean that?”

“why would I lie to you, y/n?”

she barely had time to respond before logans lips were on hers. she was hesitant at first, unsure if logan really knew what he was doing. unsure if he was really kissing her because he wanted to or because he pitied her.

the intrusive thoughts didn’t stay long, however, as she snapped to attention and moved her lips against his, wrapping her body around his.

“jesus.” logan breathed. “those jeans make your ass look incredible. well, your ass always looks incredible, but these jeans are really doing it for me.”

she laughed at how red logan's face was, a shade that looked more salmon under the sunset. the pier was digging into her skin, and she was starting to get uncomfortable, logan's lips along her neck not quite enough to distract from the discomfort of what she was sure would become a splinter if their activities were not relocated.

somehow they made it to her bedroom without being discovered by the partygoers, much less kyle. the fairy lights tacked to her dusty pink walls were the only light in the room as logan backed her up against her bookshelf, securely caging her body against his.

she felt safe in logan's arms. protected.

"i've been crazy about you for years now." logan growled in between kisses. "every night i came over to watch panthers games with your brother, and you were there in those tight little jean shorts, laughing and giggling with your friends. or when i'd stay the night and you'd walk past his bedroom door to get to the bathroom in the middle of the night, your skimpy silk top falling down your shoulder just enough to give me a taste of your gorgeous body. do you know how many times i've jerked off to the thought of you in kyle's bathroom? you're stunning, y/n. don't let anybody tell you otherwise."

her mind was reeling, and she couldn't find the proper words as she tugged at the collar of logan's button down shirt, pressing her lips back to his. logan sargeant was interested in her.

logan saw her for her, not just as kyle kirkwood's baby sister.

clothes were shed, buttons ripped off shirts. her head was spinning, elated and giddy and she couldn't find the words to tell logan how incredible she felt as his large hands squeezed her breasts over the mesh padding of her bralette.

she gasped, logan taking that chance to slip his tongue into her mouth, his fingers grappling for the clasp on her bra.

all at once, reality came crashing back down on her. she pulled away, hands flying up to cover her exposed breasts as the pale fabric tumbled to the hardwood floor.

she wouldn't meet logan's eyes, scared to know what he thought of her naked body. scared to see him stare at her and not know what he was thinking.

his eyes softened, the lust drawing back as concern seeped in to his irises. "y/n, pretty girl, you don't need to hide yourself around me. who made you think that you weren't sexy as all hell? i never want you feel like you have to be shy around me."

he gently gripped her arms, guiding her towards the wall length mirror hanging on the back of the ensuite door. logan stood behind her, lifting her chin so that she would meet his eyes in the mirror. placing his hands over hers, he gently pulled her palms off her breasts, exposing her bare torso to the soft lighting in the room.

"look at you beautiful you are, y/n. i'm serious."

"you're just saying that so you can get your dick wet." even as she said it, she knew it didn't sound like she meant it.

but even still, staring at herself in the mirror, all she could focus on was the way that she looked: the stretch marks on her breasts, the smattering of freckles up her arms (or were they moles, like the two on her back?).

"what will it take to show you how sexy you are, y/n?" logan rasped, undoing the button on her jeans. "should i make you watch yourself as i touch you?"

"yeah." her voice was shaky. "i think you should show me how sexy i am. clearly, i need reminding." where was this sudden boldness coming from?

"that;s my sexy, shy girl." logan cooed, tugging her jeans down her legs, kissing over her ass and down her leg before coming back up, eyes hungry at the sight of the young woman in front of him, panties hiked high on her hips and fairly see through as he slipped a hand over teh fabric and between her legs, teasing at the dampness beginning to form.

she gasped as logan slicked up his fingers, slipping them inside of her in one swift movement, working around the fabric of her cheeky panties. she was breathing hard, biting her bottom lip as she took in the sight in the mirror: logan's fingers flexing in and out of her, arousal running over his pale skin, his face contorted in concentration as he growled down her ear, telling her how tight she felt, and how good she was for him.

her own skin was rosy and flushed, a sheen of sweat beginning ro form as she felt her body heating up. there was something sinful about watching herself in the mirror, finally allowing herself to let loose a moan.

"that's my girl. don't get shy on me now, i want to know that you feel as good as i do." logan groaned, sucking on her neck. "touch me, baby. i know you want to. feel how fucking hard i am for you."

she loosened her grip on logan's wrist, internally grinning at the nail marks that she left behind in his skin before slipping an arm behind her, cupping his bulge in her hand.

she was floored. she knew logan was big (she could always see the outline in his swim shorts, forcing herself to stop staring before he noticed) but knowing that she had this effect on him?

it was a powerful thing.

"jesus, logan." she whined. "i need it inside of me."

logan's eyes sparkled. "what do you need inside of you, sweetheart? i need you to say it for me." he started pumping his fingers faster, his other hand moving to fondle her left breast, tweaking the rosy bud of her nipple between his fingers.

she sighed heavily, feeling her legs turn mushy as she leaned back against logan. "need your cock." she mumbled, unsure if she could speak any louder.

"what was that, darling? don't be shy now, i can't give you what you need if you don't tell me, love."

fuck you, she thought, biting her lip hard enough to draw blood. she was clenching around his fingers now, unsure of hoe much longer she'd be able to last. but she needed him inside of her, felt like she might die if he wasn't.

"your cock!" she shouted. "please, logan, i need your big cock inside me, please, god, i need it."

why did she say that? she should never have said that. it made her sound desperate. but in a way, she was desperate, wasn't she?

logans fingers stopped their ministrations, pulling out of her and taking a trail of her juices with them. she thought her eyes were going to roll back in her head before logan laid her down on her queen bed, her hair fanning out behind her as he started to undo his jeans, resort shirt still hanging off his frame, face flushed and covered in a sheen of sweat as he licked her arousal off his fingers.

"do you have condoms, kirkwood? because i really don't want to have to go digging for them in kyle's room."

"please don't talk about my brother when i want you to fuck my brains out."

logan smirked. "not so shy now, are we, my sexy girl."

"shut up! go the ensuite, top vanity drawer on the left. you literally cannot miss the box."

she could have laughed, lying back on the bed and kicking off her panties as logan ran, half naked and dropping his resort shirt behind him, to the ensuite.

he stumbled back, tripping over discarded clothes and the fluffy carpet, triumphantly holding the box above his head.

"the whole box? how much do you think you're getting tonight, sarge?"

logan raised an eyebrow. "call me that, and i'm going to make you forget how shy you are and have you scream my name all night long."

#logan sargeant x reader #formula one x reader #f1 smut #f1 x reader #logan sargeant #f1 imagine #logan sargeant smut

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ghostlyfleur · 6 months

Text

𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐬, 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬

eddie munson x new girl

contents: new girl referred to as angel, lovesick!eddie, strangers to friends to lovers, hellfire club, dustin henderson cameo, mutual pining, inexperienced!reader, shy!reader, maybe fairy!reader but i’m not sure yet.

word count: ~1k

summary: eddie lets his love consume him, and he’s okay with it.

eddie munson is down bad. in love. completely enamored. shot by cupid. and she’s beautiful. the fairest maiden in all the land.

she’s all flowery dresses, flowy skirts, cozy sweaters, butterfly clips in her hair, fairy wing eyeliner design and shimmery glitter on her eyelids, sparkly pink lipgloss, highlighter on her cheekbones— the prettiest angel he’s ever seen. absolutely ethereal. the thing is, she’s terribly clueless. oblivious, even. her and eddie have built a lovely friendship over the last few months, ever since he met her when he picked dustin up from the library. that’s when it happened. that’s when he got hit. an arrow straight through his heart.

his angel — because she must be an angel, with the way the sun followed her around and made her shimmer — was aiding dustin with his search, trying to find books on supernatural lore that he could take inspiration from for the campaign he was putting together. it was dustin’s first campaign in his hellfire club career, and he was taking it very seriously to eddie’s amazement and amusement. but whatever thoughts about dungeons and dragons that were swirling around his head cleared completely at the sight of her; in her white sandals, knee-length white silky skirt, and alice in wonderland graphic tank top she was a sight to behold. a mirage. a dream. sunny disposition, bright smile, fidgety hands, and the most enchanting voice— a siren call, really. and eddie was hooked. it didn’t help that dustin talked his ear off about the nice girl that was quick to provide him with an immense list of folklore and magic lore books that could help him, about fairytales and whimsical creatures.

“she talked about fairies as if she were one, dude, it was sick!” dustin gushed.

eddie noticed the kid kept going back to the same library, kept entering his van afterwards with a list of books and another cute tale revolving around the pretty angel girl of eddie’s dreams. until one day dustin looked all nervous and coy and a little scared, and yeah, usually eddie loved to invoke that same reaction from him, but this time he didn’t know the reason behind it, behind the kid’s hesitant gaze. and truly it couldn’t have been a better reason. dustin wanted the mystery angel to be able to attend hellfire, to watch his campaign.

“‘s the least i can do, man! she helped me with a lot of it and she was like- super interested in my shirt and stuff, please?” eddie’s quick reply, the resounding ‘yes’ he couldn’t hold back, caught dustin by surprise but he didn’t question it. don’t look a gift horse in the mouth and all that, right?

angel showed up in a long skirt with a flower pattern, converse shoes, and a black queen shirt tucked in. braided hair, lipgloss, and a tupperware box filled with chocolate chip cookies for the whole club.

“my thanks for letting me crash your campaign.”

eddie was hooked. once the session was done and the boys were gone, thanking her profusely for the treats after they picked her brain for cryptid lore, she stayed behind to help eddie tidy up, and they talked about music. she was shy, incredibly so, soft spoken and giggly and socially awkward, but she laughed at eddie’s jokes and playfully teased him once or twice, and complimented his bats tattoo, so eddie offered her a ride home. she gracefully declined, claiming she drove herself, so he walked her to her car instead.

plans were made so that she attended each of dustin’s campaign sessions and through those sessions, the clean up afterwards, the talks about music and bands and movies, their time together evolved to going for milkshake afterwards, a coffee shop for some hot chocolate sometimes, and a friendship blossomed. a very strong one at that.

being alone, living alone, existing alone was kind of her thing— she preferred to be by herself, to indulge in her hobbies on her own, because she was anxious. extremely anxious. but apparently not at all reserved about it or ashamed of talking about it, which was proven by the fact that she casually let it slip pass her lips that she had an anxiety disorder the very first time she was alone with eddie after hellfire.

not a single sign of shame or guilt in admitting it, and eddie admired that.

admired that she was a loner even though she was so polite and kind, ready to send anyone she walked past a smile because she knew how much it mattered to those who needed a little kindness. a quiet soul but couldn’t shut up if you cared enough to figure out her interests, she laughed at everything, giggled without reason sometimes, talked to herself a lot, was often lost in daydreams, had a dark sense of humor surprisingly. complex but friendly. eddie couldn’t get enough, always wanting to find out more about her, to talk to her more, to understand her more.

but most importantly, in her opinion, eddie allowed her to be herself without any judgment. encouraged her even. and that was priceless. so yes, a strong friendship bloomed, but neither one of them wanted to stop at just that. the dark haired boy was quickly aware of his growing feelings, his attraction, his infatuation that turned to love, while his angel didn’t clock in on her emotions quite so fast, being entirely inexperienced and lacking any previous romantic validation. her anxiety and introverted tendencies played a part in that too, probably.

but that’s alright, eddie is more than okay with waiting for her to catch up.

♡

── harmo’s footnotes:

i love thinking about our sweet eddie falling for a soft girl. he deserves a cozy, comfy, cute love story! please remember to show your support by reblogging!

masterlist. eddie dreams.

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cara-mells-blog · 2 years

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Kawaii Tank Top - Menhera Bandage & Cherry Blossom Racerback

#kawaii fashion #kawaii clothes #kawaii tank top #kawaii tops #kawaii clothing #kawaii stores #fairy kei fashion #fairy kei shirts #fairy kei clothing #fairy kei clothes #harajuku fashion #menhera clothes #menhera fashion #menhera kei #menhera tops #menhera shirts

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dfortrafalgar · 14 days

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I'm Losing You... (But We're Filling The Cracks)

Having a family isn't always as easy as fairy tales make it seem.

Warnings: Read chapter 1 for warnings.

Taglist: @phsycochan | @mirillua | @augustanna | @chaixsherlock | @whore-of-many-hot-men

Chapter 19

[Prev] [Next]

28 hours.

Those were Law’s least favorite shifts. Where his bedroom was a temporary call room with a stiff twin-size mattress and a single flat pillow, and where his companion was his hospital pager and not the warmth of your body next to his. Not like he got much sleep to begin with, not with his pager going off in the ungodly hours of the morning due to the sheer spontaneity of cardiac events.

After 28 long, grueling hours, the warmth of the summer sun finally graced the skin of his exhausted face as he stepped through the hospital’s entrance doors and walked through the parking lot to his car, placing his work bag in the passenger seat. Normally, he’d head straight home to hold you in his arms and bury his face in the flesh of your belly where you were the most soft and warm, but today he had a different plan. From the inside of his bag, he procured a small box, placing it securely in the empty cup holder below the center console before putting his car into gear and driving to his destination.

It didn’t take him too long to get across the city where he miraculously found street parking in front of his destination. He placed the box safely inside the pocket of his slacks, reaching into his car’s ashtray to procure a few coins for the parking meter. Stepping out of his car and onto the sidewalk, he gazed at the sign of the building in front of him.

SABAODY’S JEWELERS

A longtime, family owned business known for their exceptional craftsmanship of handmade jewelry, Law was very familiar with the owners. After all, it was where he had your engagement ring made. He palmed the box in his pocket as he took a deep breath and walked through the entrance.

A black-haired older woman sat behind the front counter, casually flipping through a newspaper as she moved an unlit cigarette around her lips. Her sharp, analytical eyes darted upward at the sound of the bell on the door signaling Law’s entrance. She smiled upon seeing the man, folding the newspaper and uncrossing her legs to stand from the stool she was perched on.

“Trafalgar Law, it’s been a minute! How’ve you been?” She excitedly leaned over the counter, her v-neck tank top revealing a bit more cleavage than Law was comfortable with, but he smiled fondly at her enthusiasm.

“I’ve been well, Shakky, thanks. How’s Rayleigh?” The man kept his hands in his pockets, fidgeting with the box.

“Oh you know, can’t get him to sit down. Not even for a moment,” Shakky joked, removing the unlit cigarette from her lips and placing it on a small napkin behind the checkout register. “How’s the wife?”

Law’s smile grew a bit wider at the mention of you. “We could be better, that’s kind of what I came in here for.”

The older woman’s eyebrows quirked upward in confusion as she watched Law pull the small box from his pocket, opening it and placing it on the counter. Inside was a tiny plastic bag filled about halfway with a dusty, gray powder.

“Are those…” she started.

“Ashes,” Law replied, finishing her sentence for her. “We’ve… uhm… we’ve been having some fertility issues, to keep the story short.”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” her voice was quiet and apologetic as she stared down at the tiny bag. It seemed she picked up on what the ashes were from almost immediately, making Law relieved that he wouldn’t have to explain any further, not thrilled about reliving the sight of his dead baby in a bedpan.

“I was wondering if you would be able to make these into two pieces, I’m thinking of a ring and a necklace. I don’t really know how jewelry works, but I figured you’d be able to come up with some ideas,” he offered, keeping his hand on the box as if to protect it.

Shakky’s eyes lit up at the prospect. “Of course I could, I’ve done many cremation pieces before. Do you mind if I take a look at them?” She made a small motion towards the box, catching on to the way Law’s fingers remained positioned around the tiny bag to snatch it away for safekeeping.

He pushed it forward, wordlessly giving her permission. Shakky’s long fingers gently picked up the bag from inside of the box. It was astronomically tiny, the small amount of ashes barely being more than a teaspoon in size. Her heart clenched at the sight. She was always so fond of you and Law, owing the heart surgeon a great deal for assisting with treating her own husband’s atrial fibrillation. To think that such a sweet couple have had to go through something so traumatic, it made her soul weep at the thought.

“I have a fantastic idea,” she piped up, looking at Law. “Come with me to the back, I’ll show you what I’ve got.”

Law followed her as she rounded the counter and trekked through her small storefront, past display tables full of handmade bracelets, earrings, and necklaces. She pushed open a metal door in the far back of the shop, entering what Law presumed to be her workshop, or at least a small part of it. He watched as she placed the box with the ashes down onto the countertop before she approached a small plastic storage container and procured a tiny fabric drawstring bag. She emptied it into the palm of her hand, revealing a small, simple gold ring band with a flat, circular pendant in the middle.

“This was an experiment I was doing with plant ashes, so it’s not for sale, but I’d be able to do something like this. I melted down glass, mixed the ashes into the glass, and cooled and shaped it to fit into the face of this ring, similar to a gemstone. I’m able to change the color of the glass depending on what you might want,” she explained, moving the ring around under the light so Law could get a good look at the details. “Considering how there’s… well… not many ashes, I think this might be the best choice.”

The tiny piece of jewelry was indeed quite beautiful, even if it was just an artistic test. The way the ashes were embedded into the colorful glass gave it a quartz-like appearance that glittered under the fluorescent lights of Shakky’s work room.

“What kind of colors can you do?” he asked, officially intrigued.

“All kinds, but I typically do white and blue for glass pieces,” she offered. “The blue is a light, sky blue color, similar to an aquamarine.”

Law nodded, contemplating. “Are you able to do one that’s more plain?”

“I’m able to do whatever your little heart wants,” she teased.

The black-haired man grinned. “Can you do blue glass for the ring and white for the necklace? The necklace is for me,” he asked, tracing his collarbone with the pads of his fingers.

Shakky smiled from ear to ear, clutching her test ring in her palm as she excitedly nodded. “Law, dear, I’d be honored to do this for you and your wife. If you want to hang around, I can have them done in about two hours.”

“That quick?” he asked, exasperated. “I don’t want you to have to drop your current work just for me.”

“Boy, did you see me doing work when you walked in? If you call doing the daily crossword ‘work’ then I’m concerned about what you do on your breaks!” She tossed a joking smile at the man as she slipped her test ring back into its fabric bag, placing it back into the storage container it came from.

“I’ll meet you by the front to pay–” Law began before Shakky cut him off.

“Nope, on the house.”

“Shakky, this is work,” he argued.

“It might be, but this is special for you and your wife. Consider this part of a gift from me for all you’ve done for myself and my family,” she said, her words laced with tenderness. “If you really want to repay me so badly, bring me a six pack later tonight before I close.”

Law smirked. “You got yourself a deal.”

Shakky sealed their arrangement with a hearty, friendly smack to his shoulder, making him wince slightly. She was far stronger than her outward appearance let on. “See you in two hours, kid.”

Law exited her back room, making his way past her various display tables and shelves to the front of the store before exiting out the front. He pulled his phone from his pocket, navigating to your contact and calling your cell phone.

It rang about three times before the receiver clicked and your voice spoke through the speaker.

[Hi, baby! Are you on your way home?]

Law thought you must have had some form of supernatural ability, the way your voice was able to consistently brighten his day every time he heard you. “I’m actually downtown, are you free right now?”

Small shuffling sounds could be heard in the background. [Once I’m done cleaning out the cabinets I will be! Do you wanna meet somewhere?]

The man chuckled. “Why are you cleaning out the cabinets?”

[I was bored and didn’t want to be alone with my own thoughts.] You had a point.

“Well stop cleaning, meet me at Cafe Brook. I want to see you,” he chided through the phone, his voice giving away the smile on his face as he spoke to you.

[Aye aye, captain! I’ll see you in a bit, I love you!]

“Love you, too, baby,” he replied before the call was cut off. He shoved his phone into his pocket and began the short walk to the agreed upon location.

—

Law was waiting outside the restaurant for you and grinned as you approached, a sundress adorning your body and your bag slung over your shoulder as you walked with a slight skip in your step. While your husband wasn’t much for PDA, that didn’t stop you from taking his hands in yours and pressing a tender kiss to the corner of his lips.

“Hi,” you said with a small giggle.

“Hi,” he replied, wrapping his arm around your waist to guide you into the small cafe.

It was late in the morning nearing the end of the brunch hour, so many of the tables were empty leaving you and Law with a wonderful table in the corner by the sunlit window. You hung your bag on the back of your chair before you took your seat, adjusting your dress under your legs while Law immediately took a sip of the complimentary tap water on the table.

“This was such a nice surprise!” you said, jovially. “Why were you downtown?”

Your husband shrugged, keeping his smile content, trying to hold in what he was scheming. “Just had to run some errands, that’s all.”

You rested your head in the palm of your hand on the table, your eyes gazing at him knowingly. “You’re not trying to surprise me, are you?”

“I would never. You don’t need surprises,” he replied, tossing a mischievous smirk at you.

You laughed, poking your tongue out at him. “Well, whatever you were doing, I’m always happy to get brunch with you. Especially after such a long shift… how was it, by the way?” Your own hand clutched your cup of water, your fingers releasing some of the condensation and causing droplets of water to flow down the outside of the glass.

Law groaned as a response to your question, making you smile sympathetically. “28 hours of pain,” he griped. “Everyone always waits until three in the morning to have urgent health issues.”

You reached your hand across the table to pat his forearm. He responded by adjusting his arm so his hand could hold yours. “Well, now you have two days off!”

A waiter came by and passed out some small paper menus, but the two of you almost immediately decided on what to order. A plate of curly fries to split, a hearty breakfast sampler for Law after having eaten very little in the last 28 hours, and a toasted blueberry muffin for you. A comfortable silence fell over the two of you as you gazed around the interior of the restaurant. The entire joint was trying to be old-school rock and roll themed, but it harshly clashed with the rustic wooden entryway and wall sidings. The entire establishment was a strange cacophony of design choices, made even more humorous with the multiple posters and framed platinum records of the famed jazz musician Soul King Brook, who’s name was the inspiration for the establishment. (No one actually knew if Brook had anything to do with the place, though.)

“Hey, remember how my friends came over last week and left that basket of stuff?” you asked, alerting Law’s worried attention from the frightening poster of the almost skeletonized pop star.

“Yeah, what about?” he asked, giving you his full regard.

“So I was actually texting Vivi again yesterday,” you stated. “She gave me the names of a few counselors in the area who specialize with women’s health and pregnancy issues… and I think I’m going to try one of them out just to see what’s up.”

Law straightened his shoulders. “That… sounds like a fantastic idea.”

“You think?” you asked, slightly nervous about his opinion.

“Of course, I think that’d be really good for you to help you adjust to everything that’s happened,” he clarified.

You smiled, feeling your chest flutter with his support. “If my first appointment goes well, would you want to maybe come with me?” you asked. “I mean… you know… you deserve support, too.”

Law felt his own chest clench at your words. You were right, he was just as damaged as you were over the whole situation. His mind flashed back to Shakky’s jewelry store, where the woman was most likely hunched over her work table shaping hot glass as they spoke. He nodded slowly, albeit enthusiastically. “I think that would help me a lot, if I went with you.”

“Even just to talk everything out with a professional,” you added, hoping to solidify his decision.

Your husband nodded once again. “Exactly.”

The smile you gave to the man made his face flush with heat. Your beaming grin, a sight he seemed to have missed more often since your second miscarriage, the smile that bore the heat of one thousand suns and yet filled his entire soul with the fuzzy comfort that only you could provide. He fell in love with you more and more each time he saw that brilliant smile.

Your food came out from the kitchen and was passed toward you, Law’s mouth instantly beginning to salivate at the sight of the greasy bacon and eggs spread out on the porcelain, next to a generous helping of homefries and whole wheat toast. He watched with a small smile as you took a delighted bite out of your blueberry muffin that was cut in half down the middle and slathered with a smear of butter on each side.

—

“Law, why are we at Sabaody’s?” you asked, your voice riddled with skepticism as your husband led you by your hand the few blocks it took to get from the restaurant to the jeweler’s. Law had received a text during your meal that made him appear jumpy, and he remained that way until you had finished eating and paid the bill.

“No reason,” he replied, the weakest excuse known to man as he pushed open the door to the storefront, beckoning you inside.

Shakky rounded the corner out of her work room, smiling upon seeing you. She held two boxes in her hands, but quickly placed them safely in a small brown paper bag which she promptly handed to Law.

“Oh, dear, it’s so good to see you!” she called, making you smile as she dipped down for a friendly hug.

“You too, Shakky! How’s your husband?” you asked, figuring the same question must have been asked by your own man.

“Constantly running at 100% capacity,” she responded with a sarcastic eye roll. She turned her attention back to Law and tossed him a wink. “All set!”

“Thank you so much, Shakky, I really appreciate it,” he answered, reaching over the checkout counter to shake her hand.

You watched their interaction with profound confusion. “What are you two scheming without me?”

“Nothing,” the older woman responded, a coy grin on her face as she waved the two of you out of the storefront.

Law kept the bag clenched in his hand as he walked, his opposite hand holding you as he led you back to his car.

“Law, I parked down the road,” you indicated, but he quickly opened his passenger side door and ushered you inside.

“I know, but this is important,” he uttered. His words sounded rushed, almost panicky, making worry begin to sprout in your mind. What in the world had he done?

You watched as he rounded the front of his car and plopped himself into his driver's seat, closing and locking the doors around you with the switch below the handle. He nervously fumbled with the bag, pulling out the two boxes that had been handed to him by the older woman.

“So… I… uhm…” he was frantically tripping over his words, a far cry from the man you had met for brunch almost three hours prior. “I might have gone behind your back and done something.”

You stared at him with concern. “... Okay…?”

Law’s hands were slightly trembling as he opened the smaller box, revealing a brilliant silver banded ring with a small blue glass pendant in the middle. It glittered in the sunlight, the tiny but stunning faux gem casting blue hues reflected from the sun on the top lid of the box. He passed it over to you, watching as you gently took it in your hands and gazed with wide eyes at the subtle piece of jewelry.

“Law…?” You looked over at him as he opened the second box, revealing a similar small pendant necklace on a thick, sturdy silver chain. The stone on the necklace was a simple white stone that looked similar to an opal.

“At the hospital, after you fell asleep and before we went home that night, I tracked down the nurse that took our baby and asked her to bring me to the mortuary to have someone cremate him,” he explained. “His ashes are in the jewelry.”

Your eyes were wide as you took in his words, gazing back at the bright blue glass pendant on the ring. Your voice was trembling as you struggled for words. “You… it…”

Law reached his shaking hands over to you, pulling the ring out of the box and taking your right hand in his. He slipped the ring over your right-hand ring finger, feeling inwardly satisfied as it fit perfectly on your digit. He laced his hand with yours, your eyes never tearing away from the pendant on the ring.

“I got the ring for you, and the necklace for me,” he whispered, leaning closer to you over the center console.

Your eyes darted upward to meet his own, tears brimming in the corners as you bit your wobbling lip. With a blubbery laugh, you gave him a small, playful shove on his shoulder. “You need to stop making me cry!”

Law chuckled himself, pulling you in for an uncomfortable hug over the center compartment in his car. You eagerly wrapped your arms around his shoulders, burying your head into the junction of his neck. He could feel your smile on his skin as you sniffled into his shirt.

“Law…” you mumbled, pulling away from him to gaze at the ring. “I can’t… I can’t believe it…”

Your husband was smiling, a content grin that held the same amount of sadness that you still felt in your heart after losing your unborn 12-week-old. His attention was torn from your soft face as you reached over for the other box in his lap, pulling out the necklace and unlatching the clasp. Your hands trailed around his neck to link the chain around him, watching with fondness as the white pendant sat perfectly in between his collarbones.

“Looks good on you…” you sighed, your hands tracing the tan skin around the pendant, the feeling making goosebumps rise on Law’s skin. “Our baby…”

“Now he’ll still be with us wherever we go,” he whispered.

You wiped away your tears with the collar of your dress. “When did you get so sappy?” you asked, jokingly.

Law grinned. “Well, admittedly, one of my nurses gave me the idea. She told me her sister lost a pregnancy, and they had the remains cremated and made into little rocks that they spread through their favorite hiking trail.”

“That’s so beautiful,” you cooed, your tears slowing down. The new ring on your finger brought you a strange sense of comfort you had yet to feel, something almost akin to closure. It was a small patch in the cracks that made up your broken heart, cracks that your husband was slowly learning to rebuild, and that you were doing to his own.

“God,” you sighed, leaning back in your seat. “What did I do to deserve you?”

Law’s hand brushed over your cheek. “I should be asking the same thing.”

You stared blankly out the front windshield before asking, “Can we just have Shachi or Penguin pick up my car? I don’t want to leave you.”

Your sudden question made Law snort out a laugh as he pulled out his phone. “I’d be more than happy to ask, my love.”

#x reader #reader insert #fem reader #law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #one piece x reader #op x reader #trafalgar d water law x reader #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law #i'm losing you

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ltbarnes · 4 months

Text

‘Tis the Damn Season

Stark U #6

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

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

Word count: 7.8k

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

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

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What is it?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Shit, fuck—"

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

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

"Nat. Natty—I spilled. Look."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Nooo. No Steve."

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

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

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

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

"I'm so drunk!"

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

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

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

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

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

"Out. I need to pee."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Fuck, you're so—"

"She told you to let her go."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod. "Yes. I am now."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I will be,” you whisper.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/n, can we talk?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You got me a present?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Angel in the sun - March 25th, 2023”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you serious?” Steve asks.

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

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

“Go get our girl, Stevie.”

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

196 notes · View notes

justmeinadaze · 7 months

Text

Children of the Night Part 2 (Steddie X You)

A/N: Shhhhhhhhh my angsty brain has entered the chat :P.

Warnings: Vampire Daddy Eddie/ Human (kinda switch) Steve/ Human Sub Fem Reader, SMUT, daddy kink (cause Im me), voyeurism (kinda; Eddie watches his baby girl and baby boy play), FLUFF, Steve talks about how he and Eddie first got together and their matching tattoos, ANGST (Sooooo much angst), Reader gets hurt (Shot) and the boys have to do sudo surgery to help her, blood drinking is mentioned in a bit of detail, reader touches on her rough childhood (brief), mentions of homophobia from their town and Steve's parents as well as some people online, Eddie waking up in the upside down is mentioned near the end.

Certain events from the show are mentioned (the deaths) but in this AU they'd happen in 2003 not 1986. I think that's everything.

Word count: 6110

When you woke up the next afternoon, Steve was missing and Eddie was fast asleep on his back beside you. Your eyes took a moment to fully take him in as you scanned the tattoos on his bare chest. He had a few mundane ones but a couple struck your attention. Near his heart was a month and a year; March 2003. Along one of his left ribs were lyrics from a song you knew fairly well; “You’re the closest to heaven that I’ll ever be” along with the initials S.H. and the year 2002.

Getting out of bed, you went on the hunt for Steve and found him in their kitchen washing dishes.

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Hi, Steve.”

The man softly smiles along with you as you reiterate each other’s names.

“Are you hungry? I can make you a sandwich.” When you nod he begins heading towards the fridge before pausing to face you again. “Um, full disclosure, Eddie’s blood that he snacks on is in here as well. It’s not…like…open or anything but I thought I should tell you just in case it makes you uncomfortable or…”

“Oh, no. It’s ok. I don’t mind.” Grinning at your answer, he pulls out everything he needs and places it on the counter. “If he has blood in the fridge then why does he feed on you? Is it different?”

“Uh, kind of. Think about it kind of like how we humans snack between meals.” His gentle honey eyes glance your way before he continues. “Plus, he doesn’t feel comfortable taking a lot from me. He’s afraid of doing real damage. What he does take isn’t enough to be long lasting.”

“He seems to really care about you. How long have you two been together?”

Steve chuckles as he continues to focus on the task in front of him. “I like how you just found out vampires are real but your first question to me is about our relationship.”

“Hm. Like vampires, a non-toxic relationship always seemed like a fairy tale.”

His eyes met yours before sliding over your food and you flash him a polite smirk as you thank him.

“Eddie and I have been together for a little over three years. We technically grew up together but didn’t get to know each other till his third senior year of high school. He failed a lot.”, he laughs under his breath.

“Three years…2002?” Steve gives you a quizzical look as he nods. “He has a tattoo with lyrics, initials, and that year. Are you S.H.?”

Raising his tank top, he shows you his own tattoo on his left rib.

“I’d give up forever to touch you. E.M. 2002.”

“The first time I made a move, this song was randomly playing on the radio. Eddie kept talking about how corny it was. I told him I thought it was romantic and the fucker laughed at me so of course I had to kiss him.” You giggled at his story as he took your empty plate and placed it in the sink. “After I thought I lost him, I got this tattoo.”

His face fell at the memory and your heart broke for him. Trying not to dwell, he quickly cleared his throat and tried to shift focus.

“Enough about me. Tell me more about you.”

“I mean you already know the bulk of me.”

“I know about Mina. I feel like I don’t know much about Y/N.”

“There isn’t much to tell. I’ve lived here my whole life. It’s pretty much been me and my best friend… I don’t have a lot of friends or family. I have a brother but…that’s a long story.”

“What about your parents?”

“Gone. My father died when I was young and my mother is in jail.” Steve’s head tilts at your confession, not in judgement but in understanding. “Are your parents still around?”

“Uh no. They were kind of out of my life long before we moved here. We grew up in a small town before we moved here and when rumors started to spread that I was ‘fucking the freak’ they cut me off and pushed me out.”

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry, Steve. What about Eddie’s parents?”

The watch on his wrist beeps as he glances towards the window.

“He’ll be up soon so you can ask him that yourself.”

***

“What are you doing?”, Eddie asked as he came back into his room.

You wanted to give them some time alone and allow the long-haired boy to eat without you gawking at him so you hid out in their bedroom and did some work on their computer.

“Hey. I hope it’s ok, I wanted to do some quick checks on your site since I wasn’t able to moderate last night.” Pulling up an extra chair, he sat beside you as his eyes scanned the screen in front of you. “So like cursing and some of these lewd sentences Steve doesn’t care about but things like this where people threaten to hurt others or… these homophobic comments.” Your eyes glance his way as a low growl rumbles from his chest. “I’m sorry.”

Eddie blinks as if coming back into the moment.

“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you—”

“No, I meant…sorry you have deal with ignorance like this.”

“I don’t care if it’s directed at me. I’ve dealt with it my whole life but… he deserves better.”

“Steve told me about his parents not approving of you two; that the town you came from called you a—”

“Freak. Yeah. I was always a bit different than people there; the nerd who played D&D whose father was arrested.” Your palm comfortingly rubs his shoulder and he sighs in pleasure at the action. “He told me your mother was arrested. May I ask what for?”

“Parental neglect.”

His eyes met yours as you both read each other. Two people in this world who understood what it was like to grow up a certain way; to be a part of a club no child should ever be a part of.

Managing a smile, you turn your attention back to the monitor to continue what you were doing before. Cold fingers run through your hair, gently petting your head as your eyes flutter closed.

“You can ask me questions now if you want to, sweetheart.”

Swiveling around in your chair to face him, you hang your head and he can’t help but look at you with confusion.

“I don’t want to hurt you or make you uncomfortable.”

“Hey.” He lifts up chin and gives you what he hopes is a comforting smile. “I’m telling you it’s alright.”

At that moment, Steve walks in, handing him a black mug that blocks out its contents, and takes a seat on the bed across from where you two were sitting.

“What does the tattoo on your chest mean? The 2003?”

On impulse his hand hovers over it through his shirt as he tenderly grins at you.

“That’s when I died. When my…human heart stopped beating. Steve says I’m too dramatic.”, he chuckles trying to lighten the mood.

“He is.”

“You two got together a year before he died? Steve…”

“We’ll save that particular story for another time, honey.”

“Are there other vampires?”

“Um, I’m not going to lie we aren’t sure. We’ve tried doing research but can’t seem to find much of anything. Same with our friends.”

“You have friends?” They both laugh at your question making you giggle to. “Sorry. I just meant that you both seem like you spend a lot of time alone.”

“That’s fair. One of our closest friends set up the stream for us and does some AV Club tech mumbo jumbo to reroute the feed so no one can find us.”

“Why did you guys decide to stream what you do?”

“Money.”, they answer at the same time.

“When we left our hometown, we left with nothing. We still need a roof, I need to eat food, and he needs to be safe.”, Steve explained.

“Ok, so, you need a roof but no coffin. I imagine because it’s now nighttime, sunlight is a no go?”

“That is correct. Um, silver seems to hurt a fucking lot and crosses. I heal pretty quickly and I’ve been able to heal him. It’s just those little bites though. Thankfully, we’ve never had to try bigger wounds.”

“Can you transform like Dracula?”

“Uh…I’m not sure you want to see that but yes. It’s not like one of those cute little black bats or anything. I shift into the bats that bit me.”

“That’s how you were turned?” Eddie nods. “Is that…is that what your scars are?”

“Another time, Y/N.”

“Steve…I told her it was ok to ask and will there ever be a good time to tell that story?”

“Jesus fucking Christ. Again, why the fuck do I even bother? You never listen.”

Eddie rolls his eyes and watches him stomp out of the room.

“And I’M the drama queen.”, he jokes.

“No, I understand. He lost the man he loved for a time. I can’t imagine what that does to someone.”

“Have you ever been in love, princess?”

“The way you guys are no. I thought I was once but…”

“It wasn’t with that douchebag right?”

“No.”, you nervously chuckle. “No. I think with John I thought it was better to go through what he put me through than be alone. I hate being alone.”

“Yeah…I know the feeling.”

“Eddie, did you kill him? John.”

The boy’s jaw clenched as looked away from you. “Yes.”

“What—What did you do with him?”

“It’s better if you don’t know, Y/N.”

“Is that normal for you? Killing people.”

Something in the atmosphere changed as the vampire beside you began breathing heavier.

“Is that what you think I am? Some fucking monster that just hunts people and murders them for their blood?!”

“Eddie.”, Steve tried to comfort him as he powerwalked back into the room when he heard his partners voice raise. “Baby, everything’s ok.”

“I’m NOT a monster. If anything he was for hurting you!”

“Eddie, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for my question to come out that way. I just…I’m learning. I know you were protecting me. I don’t blame you.”

The man pushes Steve back and vanishes out of the room as he runs out the front door. Sighing, he puts his hands on his hips as he hangs his head.

“I told him I didn’t want to hurt him. He insisted I ask questions.”

“I know, honey. Eddie’s always been the kind of person that doesn’t know how strong he actually is. Because of that, he overestimates how much he can handle. I on the other hand know what I can and can’t. I’ve already had the worst day of my life so I imagine nothing can be heavier than that.” His eyes glance your way before continuing.

“He’s tried to explain to me before the feelings he gets but it’s hard without feeling them myself. Depending on the emotion, he says it can physically hurt. I imagine whatever he sensed the other night… it was bad for him to kill your boyfriend.”

“When he brought me here, you said you knew he killed him because you knew him.”

“Eddie’s like a knight in shining armor. If he senses someone he cares deeply for is in danger he’ll…he’ll do what needs to be done.”

“Did he do that for you?”

“Come on, Y/N. Let me drive you home.”

########

You couldn’t sleep at all that night, tossing and turning till you finally just gave up. Taking a seat at your own computer, you decided to do some research of your own.

“E.M. +mysterious death+ S.H.”

A few things came up at first but nothing really stood out until you landed on small publication from a tiny news station in Indiana.

“City mogul’s son Steve Harrington missing; 2 of towns prominent citizens murdered!”

“S.H.”, you mumbled to yourself as you continued to read.

“Police found the bodies of two young men brutally murdered outside of the Forest Hills Trailer Park this past Wednesday, June 15, 2003. The boys had recently graduated from Hawkins High School and it is unknown at this time what they were doing in the area as that was not their place of residence.

Wayne Munson, fugitive Eddie Munson’s uncle, told our reporters that it wasn’t uncommon for people to come and harass him but there is no proof that is why they were there. Further analysis of the crime scene found the young Harrington’s DNA mixed with the others but his location at this time is undetermined.”

“E.M.”, you sigh, clicking the hyper link on his name.

There he was. A picture of a younger Eddie with a group of boys wearing a shirt that read “Hellfire” in front of what looked to be a high school cafeteria wall. He looked a bit different than he did now. As he bit his bottom lip flashing the rock & roll symbol with his hands, he seemed happy. Nothing in his demeanor that you saw matched the headline that followed.

“Eddie Munson Wanted for Murder of Young Girl.”

“Edward Munson is the prime suspect in the murder of young Hawkins High Cheerleading Senior Chrissy Cunningham who was violently butchered in the younger Munson’s residence before he fled the scene. Munson is wanted and possibly armed so proceed with caution! Call Chief Powell if you notice anything suspicious.”

There were more articles underneath discussing the case as new murders piled up and Eddie was blamed for every one of them.

“I’m not a monster.” Eddie had insisted and you believed him but obviously something happened.

Knocking on your front door gave you pause and you hastily turned off your monitor before running to answer it.

“Arthur. How can I help you?”

“Where is my brother?”, he snarled.

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen John in two days.”

“Bullshit! He said he was coming over here to talk to you but he never came back home.” Shoving his shoulder into the door, he pushed past you to look around your house.

“Arthur, get the fuck out! I told you he’s not here! I don’t know where he is!”

“Oh you don’t? How did you get that black eye, Y/N?”

“A souvenir he gave me before he fucking left.”

“Problem?” You jumped 3ft in the air when another man entered your house but this one you didn’t mind. Steve squared his shoulders as he placed himself in front of you. “I think she’s made it perfectly clear that he’s not here.”

“And who the fuck are you?”

“That’s none of your fucking business. Now…leave.”

Arthur strides forward till he’s face to face with the man in front of you as they stare each other down.

“It’s my business if you did something to him. If that whore is fucking you and John found out he would have made sure that neither of you were heard from again.”

“Get. Out.” Steve’s voice startled you. In all the time you had known him, you had never heard him be so authoritative. “This is my final warning.”

They stared at each other for another few seconds before Arthur bumped his shoulder with his own and stomped out the door. The man’s demeanor in front of you instantly deflated as he turned to check on you.

“Are you alright? Eddie sensed something and—”

Your lips cut him off as they crashed to his own. It took a moment for his brain to catch up with what was happening but when it did, he fully embraced it as his palms came up to cup your face and hold you close. As you pulled away, his thumbs caress your cheek tenderly as he smiles.

It all happens so fast.

There’s a loud bang and a sudden sting that pierces your side. Your hands shoot out to grab his biceps as the sound of growling and screaming fills the room.

“Steve?”

Your knees buckle as he catches you and once again you hear the familiar sound of their heated words.

“We have to get her back to our house! Come on!”

“No! She needs to go to a hospital!”

“If she goes to hospital, Steve, she WILL die! This isn’t a debate.” You wince when your roughly lifted into arms and the wind blows through your hair as you’re placed down on something hard. “Ok, princess. We’ll be right back.”

As soon as you start to cry, you feel a palm moving your hair out of your face.

“No! We have to get the bullet out first. Fucking hell! I still think she should be at a hospital. We don’t even know if you can heal a wound like this!”

“You can yell at me fucking later! Do whatever you have to do!”

“Eddie?” The vampire kneels beside you as he tries to dry the tears that are falling down your face. “I-I don’t think… you’re a monster.”

“Baby, don’t worry about that right now, okay?”

“I’m sorry. I like you both a lot…fuck…I think I could have been…a-a good Mina to your stream.”, you laugh weakly.

“STEVEN!”

“I’m coming! Ok, shit. Roll her on to her side and hold her still. I need her still, Eddie. Y/N, bite down on this ok, honey. I’m not going to lie; this is really going to fucking hurt.”

You take the wooden spoon he hands you and place it between your teeth as the long-haired boy holds you firmly in his grasp. You had never felt anything this bad before. As Steve dug into your wound, you bit down so hard on the material in your mouth you thought it would break.

“I know. I know, baby. You’re almost through this!”, he soothed through gritted teeth as he focused on the task in front of him.

You tried so hard to stay still but every synapse in your brain was telling you to run from the thing causing you this much pain. Eddie’s grip tightened as he held you in place while he squeezed his eyes shut. The truth was he could feel your hurt and Steve’s panic which was tearing him apart. That mixed with the delicious smell of your blood on their table was making things even harder for him.

“Got it! Go, Ed.”

He released you from his hold, quickly yanked off his shirt, and reached for the butcher knife to cut a line along his chest. Steve placed you gently on his lap as the vampire positioned your head towards the wound.

“Come on, sweetheart. I need you to drink.”

A little bit of his blood dripped onto your lower lip and your eyes widened at the taste. It was the most delicious thing you had ever had in your life. Your mouth opened wider as your limp arm tangled around his neck, bringing him closer to you as you did what he commanded.

“Fuck…is…is it working, Steve?”, Eddie moaned.

The man nodded as his eyes remained studiously on your back as he watched it gradually begin to heal. The metalhead’s fingers threaded through your hair as he held you to him.

“Baby, you-you may have to pull her…away when its time because…fuck this feels so fucking good.”

“Ok…Ok, Y/N. You’re good. Let’s not push it.” As Steve reached for you, the metalhead growled like a dog with you try to take away its toy. “Eddie…I have to take her. We don’t know what too much of your blood can do.”

To his surprise, it was his partner that pull your hair, tugging you back so his lips could mingle with your now stained ones. Your own palms cupped his cheek as his tongue invaded your mouth making you moan at the feeling. You didn’t think anything of it when his kisses travelled to your neck.

“Eddie. No.”, Steve warned but his boyfriend didn’t hear. He was so wrapped in your taste and smell as he continued to move.

Abruptly, he hissed and dropped you to the floor as he ran out of the house.

“Wh-What happened?”

“Come on, honey. Let’s get you into the shower.”, Steve deflects as he put the little silver cross in his pocket and lifts you into his arms.

##########

With your knees under your chin, you sat in the warm water and allowed Steve to clean you. He originally planned on leaving you alone but you begged him to sit with you. Rolling up his sleeves, he placed himself on the floor facing you as he washed the blood from your skin.

“Are you alright, Y/N?” As you nod your head, his fingers gently reach under your chin, and turn you to look at him. “Can you verbally answer me?”

“I’m ok. I’m… No, you won’t believe me.”

“Baby, I’m in love with a vampire. You’d be surprised what I believe.”, he jokes; softly grinning when you laugh.

“I’m…more in shock that…Arthur tried to kill me. I… I knew John was….you know…John but. I just never thought either of them would hurt me like that. I-If it wasn’t for you two…I wouldn’t be here.”

“Shhh, hey, everything’s alright. You’re safe now. Nothing like that is ever going to happen to you again. I’m sorry I couldn’t…protect you…but thankfully Eddie got there in time to keep things from getting worse.”

“Steve, what are you taking about? You did protect me. I was so scared but I felt safer when you showed up. You also just kept me from dying so I’d say you did more than protect.” Your eyes scanned him over as you politely smiled before getting to his feet and helping you out of the tub. “I feel like I should tell you something.”

“Some other time, pretty girl.”

After pulling one of their shirts over your head, he goes on the hunt for shorts so you would feel less exposed.

“Steve Harrington.” The man freezes in place as he listens to you speak. “Eddie Munson. Two boys from Indiana who went missing. One around March 2003 and the other a few months later.”

“Steve?” Eddie was suddenly in their bedroom doorway with a concerned look on his face. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong? I felt you in pain.”

“Wanted for murder of three kids including a high school cheerleader.” The vampire swiveled his head in your direction as his eyes narrowed. “I-I found some articles online. There were also two boys murdered outside of…Wayne Munson’s trailer the night Steve disappeared.”

“I know you didn’t kill those kids—”

“The first 3, no. The two a few months later—”

“Shut up, Eddie.”, Steve huffs. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Then leave and I’ll tell her.”

“No.”, the man responds curtly as he kicks back into gear and finds a pair of boxers, tossing them in your direction. “I don’t feel comfortable leaving you alone with her right now.”

“Excuse me?”, the vampire snarled as his posture straightened. “I just helped save her life.”

“You also were about to drain her and I’m not going to let you do that! She deserves better!”

“You keep saying that like living with me is a chore, Steven. Like you’re in prison or hell.”

“We’re both in fucking hell, Edward. That’s what this is.”, he gestures around him.

“You can leave any time you want to, babe.”

“Don’t you do that! After everything I do for you and everything we’ve been through, don’t condescend to me!”

“What do you want from me?! Do you want me to go back where I came from? Act like I didn’t fucking crawl to get back to you.”

Steve’s fist raised and you gasped as he smacked the vampire in the face.

“You don’t get to do that. I was there to, Eddie.”, he sighs as he comes to sit on the edge of the bed. “I’m tired. All the running, hiding, and fighting…worrying. If you bite her, all of that becomes her burden to. And god forbid we ever need to run again, I don’t want her to experience what I did. To know that empty feeling I experienced when I thought you were gone.”

Dropping the shorts he handed you to the floor, you went to sit beside him and tenderly ran your fingers through his hair.

“Even before we began talking, I watched you take care of him. I’ve never seen a love like that before. My parents hated each other and all my exes were trash. Steve… you deserve to feel good to. You deserve to have a good life. Let me…help you.”

With your hand on his cheek, you turned him to face you, bringing his lips back to yours.

“It’s ok, baby. You can use me. Let go.”, you whispered when you felt him holding back.

Steve glanced towards Eddie who smiled in return before grabbing the desk chair and placing himself in front of you both.

“Go ahead, sweetheart. Daddy can take care of himself tonight. Take control. Show Y/N what King Steve Harrington could do.”

Something flashed in the boy’s gaze when it shifted back to you; something more dominate you had never seen from him before in their previous streams. Pushing you back towards the pillows, his kisses came at a much more hectic and stronger pace.

Your fingers tugged at his shirt and he quickly pulled it off, groaning into your lips as your palm ran down his chest. His own hand caressed your thighs, slowly tracing your skin till his digits found their way between your folds.

“Please. Touch me, Steve. Can you feel how wet I am for you?”

Heavily sighing, his eyes locked with yours as his middle finger slid into your entrance.

“Fuck me. Honey, your so fucking tight.” As he slowly moved his finger, his thumb began circling your clit causing your eyes to roll as you moaned. “She’s just fucking clinging to me, Daddy. Shit.”

Eddie stifled a groan of his own as he palmed the bulge in his jeans.

“Yeah? Why don’t you put another finger in there? Give her taste of what she’s in for.”

“Can I taste you?”, you plead.

Watching with eager eyes, you wait as he leans back to push off his pants and hastily gets to his knees, pumping his cock in his hand as he brings it to your lips.

“Jesus, Steve. You’re so fucking big.” Your tongue darts out to lick the precum from his tip and the whimper he makes has you clenching, desperately needing him to put his fingers back into your needy hole.

“Say it again.”

“Your cock is so big. It’s gonna stretch me open.”

“Fuck—yeah I am, baby. Open your mouth.” You do as he instructs, opening your mouth wide as you stick out your tongue. “Good girl, Y/N.”

Thrusting his hips, his length moves between the opening making him mewl as he lifts up your shirt and kneads your breast with his hand. Hearing someone spit, he glances towards Eddie right as he was bending over his dick, allowing a glob of drool to land on the tip before stroking it along himself.

Steve couldn’t take it anymore as he turned your head towards him and fully pushed his cock down your throat. While one hand petted your hair, the other returned to your cunt as he slid two of his fingers inside of you and pumped them at a fast pace. You were barely able to catch any form of breath as you whimpered and your throat constricted around him.

“Goddamn it. Yes! Come on, baby. Cum. Cum for me.”

As his fingers curled inside of you, you moaned loudly as he held your head still while the dam broke and you came.

Steve’s eyes were wild with lust as he pulled back and passionately kisses your lips as you gradually came down from your high.

“Come on, Y/N.”, he murmured. “Let’s give Daddy a good show.”

You allowed him to take control as he moved you around till you both were facing Eddie with you on your hands and knees. The wheels of the desk chair rumbled along the floor as the vampire scooted till he was level with your face. His cold fingers grazed you skin as he helped you take of your shirt before caressing your cheek.

“You both look so beautiful like this. God, I wish you two could smell and feel how I do. You’re right, princess. He needed this. All that fucking testosterone of being in control just radiating from him and the scent of your cunt just begging for him. Fuck me.”

While Eddie talked Steve positioned himself behind your body, mewling as he guided himself into you. The metalhead grinned as he watched your eyebrows scrunch together as he began stroking his cock again at the sight.

“I know, baby. You can take it. G-Good girl. Look at Daddy, sweetheart. Fuck, you’re so pretty. How does she feel, Steve?” The man had both eyes closed while his hands took hold of your waist as he did small thrusts inside you. “Steve Harrington, I asked you something.”

“Tight…warm…fuck…”, he grunted.

“What about you, baby girl?”

“Full. He-He’s so deep. Agh!”, you whine as Steve roughly smacks his hips against yours. “Can I kiss you, please?”

Nodding his head, his fingers tangle in your hair as he leans forward allowing you to taste his lips. You groan as the man behind picks up his rhythm at the sight, thrusting into you with purpose as he hits your sensitive spot over and over.

“Don’t take your eyes of me.”, Eddie commands as he leans back and continues stroking his dick in front you.

Steve leaned his chest onto you to your back, reaching under your body to play with your nipples and massage your tits in his large palms.

“You feel so good, Y/N. So fucking wet and tight. Fuck. You take me so well, pretty girl. I knew—mmm—I knew from the first moment we talked to you…”

“W-What, baby? What did you know? Tell me, please.”

“You’re different.”, he grunted in your ear. “You don’t deserve the bullshit you’ve been through.”

Your arm reached around his neck and tilted his head so you could kiss his lips.

“I don’t ever have to worry about that again right, Steve? I’m safe with you two.”

“Fuck.”, the man growled as he pushed up onto his knees, tugging back on your hair to bring you with him. “Yeah, honey. You’re safe.”

“Jesus, it’s been—mmph—its been awhile since I’ve seen dominate Steve.”

You don’t see it but the man smirks at his vampire boyfriend as he thrusts faster into you, clinging to your body as his fingers come down to rub your clit.

“Cum, baby. Please. I need to feel you squeeze my dick the way you squeezed my fingers. Make sure y-you keep your eyes on Daddy when you do, pretty girl.”

You did as you were told, staring into Eddie’s beautiful brown eyes as you moaned Steve’s name till you were blinded by white and nearly collapsed in his arms.

“Yes! Good girl. Such a good, beautiful girl. Where can I cum, honey?”

“In-Inside. Please.”, you mumbled.

Steve glanced towards Eddie who nodded in approval and with a few more rough pumps you felt him coat your insides.

“Shit. Come here, big boy.”

After carefully pulling out of you, you watched with half lidded eyes as Steve dutifully jumped down in front of him and took his partners cock into his mouth. Eddie groaned as his movements began choppy and he came down the boy’s throat.

***

Eddie coughs before his eyes shoot open and he sits up from his spot on the cold concrete.

“Dustin? Henderson?!” Panic sets in as the silence around him become deafening. “S-Steve?”

Slowly, he wobbled to his feet taking in the upside down around him. All the bats were dead and there was none of the thunder or rumbles that had been there before. He groaned as his arms gripped his stomach. He was in an immense amount of pain. It wasn’t like a physical pain but something could almost feel in his soul.

“Eddie…”

“Steve?” The metalhead turned in every direction but didn’t see the man he loved anywhere.

“I miss you so much. I feel so lost without you, baby.”

“Steve!? I’m here! I’m right here!” Hobbling towards his trailer, he began to hear faint music.

“And all I can taste is this moment And all I can breathe is your life And sooner or later, it's over I just don't wanna miss you tonight.”

Something in the atmosphere changed and Eddie felt it immediately.

Danger.

The man’s eyes went black, his mind filling with Steve as he ran almost violently through the wall of his home and jumped through the gate in the roof onto the floor of the dark trailer below.

Your eyes shot open as you gasped awake.

“Well, that’s new.”, Eddie said sarcastically as he scanned you over.

“Hey, honey. You’re okay. Here drink this.”, Steve cooed as he hurried back into the bedroom with a bottle of water. “You’re safe, remember. It was just a nightmare.”

“No…it wasn’t.” Your eyes met with the vampires as he sighed and turned towards Steve. “She just experienced one of my memories.”

“How do you know that?”, he asked.

“I felt it. It was the same way I felt…when I woke up and…”

The other man held up his hand to silence him. “Maybe she drank enough of your blood for that to happen? I mean I’m not surprised if drinking your blood can heal, who knows what else it can do.”

“Or your dick is just that amazing.”

Steve rolled his eyes as he smirked in his boyfriend’s direction. It took them a moment to realize you had started crying as you wrapped your arms around Eddie’s neck.

“I’m so sorry you went through that. Waking up alone like that in that scary place and then feeling what you felt.” After you let him go, he kissed your forehead and Steve climbed in beside you. “There’s a lot I don’t know, huh.”

They both nodded and you did that same before laying down flat in their bed once more.

“While you were asleep I cleaned you but I wasn’t sure if you needed anything else. Do you need anything?”

“No, Steve. Thank you.”

Turning off the light beside the bed, he rolled back over to be met with your awaiting arms as you circled them around his waist and rested your head on his chest. When you absently raised your arm in the air, they both seemed confused until you found Eddie’s wrist and tugged his own limbs around your hip.

“Thank you both for what you did today.”

“Of course, sweetheart.”

As your eyes drift shut again, you feel the vampire move as he reaches over to caress Steve’s cheek and in return the man leans into it as he kisses his palm.

“I’m sorry for what I said about how you could leave if you wanted to. Sometimes I forget that pain you went through without me since I was knocked out for most of it. Feeling her dream…my memory…when I woke up, Steve, it was the first thing I felt…your grief. I can understand you not wanting her to feel that.”

“Taking care of you isn’t chore for me. I like looking out for you but I know a lot of that is panic. I work so hard to keep things the same because if they are then I know the outcome. Honestly, she scares me. Like you I like Y/N a lot but it’s been a while since we’ve been vulnerable like this, Eddie. Tonight, we got lucky but what if other bad things happen?”

“Then like tonight, I’ll handle it. You’re not alone anymore, sweetheart. We can do anything together right?” Steve’s exhales before he nods. “One day at a time, baby. Let’s just focus on the positive…like me getting to watch my two beautiful babes go at it.”

Eddie sticks out his tongue making the man chuckle.

“The three of us will have to talk about that part more but IS it ok if I’m her Daddy to?”

“Yeah, yeah of course, honey. As long as you and she are comfortable with it. Baby girl doesn’t know what she’s in for when it comes to you.”

“Well, she’ll find out soon enough.”

##############

Part 1 Here

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