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#he’s an asshole and I appreciate that very much
hraesvelg-r · 17 hours
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His favorite
Teacher Joel x f!reader
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Summary: You’re a needy girl who needs to be taken care of, the pressure of studies weighting on your back making you sleep deprived. He is a reserved man in his 40’s thinking his age can’t attract a love interest into his life. And he’s needy too.
Warnings: 18+ MDNI . Unprotected p in v, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, Possessive Joel, reader is in her 20’s, No specific description of reader body except the gender and outfit. Age gap, no outbreak, porn w/plot, very slightly mean Joel ( he just doesn’t show much fluff ), dirty talk, no use of y/n
w/c: 2.1k (this is short, see a/n )
a/n: this is my first smut hence why it’s short !!! PLEASE GIVE CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM, I wanna learn !! Also give ideas if you have any <3 If this gets a few likes and some appreciation I might keep going with this so tell me if you’re intrested !!!
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His eyes makes you shiver every time he looks at you, like thunderbolt sliding along your spine all the way down to your core making it ache so bad for him. Your head hurts like hell, the sound surrounding you feeling like a bell ringing constantly in your ears as the students around you chats in group, thinking about their projects.
“Hey ? Are you okay ? You seem distracted.” The girl next to you interrupting the bell
“Yeah, head hurt that’s all” you feel your heart pumping in your head, and hear your blood stream in your ears.
“ You better focus, I don’t want my art grade to go down just because of you” she spits
You can’t stand the people around you. Ever since you started university a few years back, everybody turned into unfriendly assholes thinking having a second of inattention can ruin their whole year
They’re not wrong, in a way. You’ve been distracted since the start of the year by your art teacher, Mr.Miller, and you can’t think of anything but his brown hair with a pinch of white snow on the roots, his messy beard with a visible growth along the neck and his square glasses makings his jawline stand out more. You want to kiss it, bite it.
There you go again, not paying attention, but at least you forgot about your headache for a second.
You take a box full of pills and a water bottle half empty out of your handbag and put one in your mouth, swallowing it with the mid temperature water making you grin.
“ Is everythin’ okay here ?” He say, him, Mr Miller. “ Noticed you were making faces and didn’t seem to focus too much, need’a hand to the nurse office ?”. You can feel your cheeks turning red, a burning sensation matching with the burning between your thighs. That’s how bad your attraction to him is.
“ I’m okay, I took a pill but thanks” you nod, putting your head back between your hands.
You suddenly feel a large hand on your shoulder, making you lift your face again.
“You’re going to the nurse office, right now” he say with a harsh tone.
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He is now next to you, walking you to the nurse office. You start walking a bit wobbly, feeling his eyes on you making you forget how to walk normally. As you get near the office, his pace speeds up a bit to walk in front of you, reaching for the door to open it. He lets you in with a small gesture of his hand telling you to go in.
“Hi Mr. Miller, what’s the matter ?” The nurse says, giving him a huge smile showing her bright white teeth.
“student here lookin’ sick, I’m worried it might get worse with everybody around her chattin’” he says while putting a hand on your back between your elbows.
“I already took a pill, I’m going to be fine, just need a few minutes” your voice low, trying to avoid your head to hurt even more.
“Well I’d be happy to help but I’m going to close soon and you already took a pill, I’m afraid I can’t do anything else to ease the pain darling” she looks at you with a soft smile
She has always been so nice to you, and other people in general. All the times you came in with a bad migraine after a busy night drinking shots of vodka, or for period cramps, she’s been extremely helpful.
“I could take her in my office for the next 30 minutes. Class is ending in 5 minutes and I don’t have any class for half an hour”
You get taken aback once again from your thoughts, your eyes widening from what he just said. You can’t possibly stay in a room alone with just him, HIM, the man who haunts your day dream. The one who’s looking at you in class silently, while you wished he was touching you, feeling you right here on your desk
You’re out of the nurse office and on your way to your teacher’s office two hallways away. You can’t think straight because of your headaches. The both of you reach his door, he take the keys to his office from his back pocket on in his pants and open the door.
“ You wait here, don’t touch anythin’. You can sit on the couch or the office chair, whatever you prefer”
He leave the office, looking back at you when closing the door behind him, catching your gaze.
His office is well decorated. Plants sitting almost everywhere. A succulent on his desk and a few on some shelves with books; a monstera in the corner next to a small CD reader with a disk already in, and other plants you can’t name. His office is mostly brown with wood furniture. His desk is near the back of the room in front of tall windows with black curtains giving the room a dim light, a leather chair tall enough to support his broad back. The couch is near the door, it’s small but there’s enough space for two. The book shelves are on the left of his desk, on the other side some closed shelves with the CD reader on it and a box filed with disk in it. There’s a Lamp at the far end that is turned off.
After a few minutes of contemplating the room, the door opens up again with a large figure coming in.
“I brought you a hot chocolate, didn’t know if ya liked coffee so I went the safe way”
Your headache went down a bit, probably from scanning the room around you that is weirdly relaxing and cozy.
“Thanks, my head feels better by the way” you sit down on the couch.
“That’s good news” he says, putting the hot chocolate cup down on his desk. “ So uh, I didn’t wanna make this too embarrassing so I wanted to talk to you about the project we’re currently doing in class.” He leans on his desk, his butt on the edge of it.
“ ‘Noticed you didn’t seem to fit in well with your classmates, but this is a group project and you need’a work with them, or I’ll have to grade you down.”
He takes the cup from his desk, stands up and hands it to you. You reach for it when your fingers accidentally brushes his, making the hair on your arms and neck rise. He stands a few inches in front of you, crossing his arms.
“I know, sorry. It’s just that my friends aren’t in the same classes as me and I kinda struggle to make friends.” You sip from the cup.
He hasn’t moved, his eyes scanning your body before he notices his own movement and looks away.
“Still. You need to be careful, this could be bad for your grades” he goes back to his desk and turns your back to you, reaching for something on his desk and stars fidgeting with it. Rays of sun are peaking out from the curtains, highlighting his figure. A minute goes by, the both of you staying silent until-
“I noticed you looking at me during class, and this almost every time. Are you being distracted by me ?” He turns around.
Your eyes meet his, a hint of panic in yours.
“l uh…haven’t noticed” your heart pounding in your chest. You’re sure he can hear it. You stand up, anxiety making your legs feel numb.
He walks to you, standing close to your face.
“I’m warning you, this is not appropriate, you know that right ? “ his eyes on your lips, almost devouring them.
“Well, what if I am ? “ you look in his eyes, hoping that this is going the way you want it to go. If not, you will just keep dreaming about him in class and in your bed with your hand down I’m your panties
“I wouldn’t wanna risk anything if I were you darlin’” his breath hitting your face. You know he wants to touch, feel your whole body against him.
“We can just…be careful” your eyes almost begging
“Yeah, you’d be my little secret huh ?” his hands grips your waist, making you gasp, the burning sensation between your thighs growing bigger.
His lips suddenly crash onto yours, teeth touching as he brings you closer to him making your hips grind against his. Moans escape his mouth and yours between kisses.
He pushes you to the nearest wall keeping his lips on yours, reaching to lock the door with a swift movement.
“I’ve been waiting for this for so fuckin’ long “ he grabs your shirt and takes it off, while you zip off your skirt and toss it away.
“Fuck Mr. Miller…are you sure you wanna do this ?” You say while trying to catch your breath.
“I’m more than sure Angel, as long as you’re down for it I’ll do anything you want”
At this point your headache is long gone and forgotten and all you think about is him, him him him.
“Also please, call me Joel” he say as he grips your left leg and put it around his waist, making it easier for him to slide his hand down your cunt.
“Fuck you’re so fucking wet…Been’ wanting me the whole time huh ? “ he grins as his fingers rub against your clit, slowly building up your arousal.
“Please, please just fuck me already” your moans becoming louder and your breath going faster as your hands try to unbuckle his belt.
“Jesus you’re so needy, but you need to be quite, or else we’re gonna get caught, you don’t want that huh ?” He ask as he slides two fingers into your cunt, making you gasp.
“Fuck Joel, “ hearing you say his name is making him go feral. He lift you up in his arms, your legs around his waist as he turn around to put you on his desk, tossing some of his stuff to the ground including his poor little succulent plant.
“When’s the last time someone fucked your pretty cunt, huh ?” He takes his belt away, unzip his pants and take his hard growth into his hand, then slowly rubs it against your wetness.
“It’s been way too long, that’s why you need to stop waiting and fuck me already “
He obeys and starts grinding against your cunt, until his length slips into your core , stretching you out
“fuck you’re so tight Angel” he pants as his hips starts trusting into you, going deeper and deeper.
Your hands grips to his desk, desperately searching for hold as your body moves up and down.
“Shit Joel I think im gonna cum already” you say as his trust are getting deeper touching your sensitive spot inside.
“I wanna taste ya’ on my tongue” he comes out of you, leaving you empty, pussy clenching around nothing as he comes down on you. His breath hits the inside of your thighs, hot and fast until his tongue finally touches your swollen clit.
You gasp loudly, the fleshy part of your hand in your mouth to cover the filthy sound of you enjoying the tongue of your teacher on yourself.
“You taste so good baby, I’m gonna need this as a dessert every fuckin’ night”
He pushed two digits inside of you moving slowly to build your high until you finally cum, covering his fingers with your slit as he takes them inside of his mouth and licks it off.
“Fuck” you pant, coming down of your high with your heart racing maybe too fast
You know he probably ruined you for any other man, as short as it was, his cock was surely way bigger than you thought.
He stands up, putting his pants and belt back on.
“wait you didn’t finish, maybe I can help you out” you say, grabbing his tie making him come closer to your face, nose almost touching.
“Maybe for next time, sweetheart.”
Next time ? Oh. My. God. Next time.
“You wanna see me again?”
“Why not ? ‘s long as we keep this secret then I’m fine in fucking your here ‘n there in my office” the side of his lips lifting.
“ I’m down but, I’m not sure I just want to be some kind of doll to you.”
Your love for him is growing, there’s no doubt. But you want more than just sex here and there. You take a pen from a cup on his desk and a note from the note pad to write your number down and put it in the pocket of his buttoned up shirt.
“Well, was scared to ask but yeah, maybe we can go further than just some filthy sex” you look in his eyes, a smile showing on your face.
“What about going out to the restaurant just down the street then maybe I’ll let you suck me off ‘til I cum”he say, smiling back at you, exiting the room.
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callsign-joyride · 2 days
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Hot Blooded | Rhett Abbott
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Summary: Rhett to the rescue when a fire alarm in your apartment building goes off and you're taking a shower.
Pairing: firefighter!Rhett x f!reader
Content warnings: One of the other firefighters is an asshole, fluff, I wrote this in like 20 minutes so it's very short
It was late when you got back from having a night out with your friends. You didn’t have much to drink, maybe one or two beers, and you had water when you weren’t drinking, so you were okay to drive home. All you wanted to do was take your makeup off and shower, regardless of how late it was. So, you were standing under the hot water of the shower while listening to a podcast. You were waiting for your hair mask to run its course, and then you’d wash it out. That was the plan until the fire alarm went off. The noise startled you, but it was like you were frozen in fear. You didn’t smell any smoke, which was good. It meant that someone probably burned their food, so it wasn’t anything too serious. 
The only problems were that it was snowing outside and you didn’t have time to layer up enough to avoid freezing. You were mid-thought when someone started pounding on your bathroom door. They announced that they were from the fire department, and by that point, the alarm had been turned off. You quickly turned the water off and wrapped yourself in a towel before slightly opening the door.
”Ma’am, you need to leave the building,” one of the firefighters said. His name tag said Smith, so you assumed that that was his last name.
”I’m sorry, I was in the shower.”
”It doesn’t matter. The fire safety protocol says that-,”
”Calm down, dude. It’s freezing out there and she’s obviously okay. This area is cleared,” someone with Abbott on his name tag chimed in. 
“The chief won’t be happy about this.”
”Radio him and tell him that this room is clear. She doesn’t have to leave the building. Other apartments need to be cleared. This isn’t our biggest concern right now.”
Most of them left, except for Abbott. He closed the bathroom door and gave you time to get decent before speaking to you.
”I’m really sorry about that. A lot of our guys are sticklers about following the rules, but I wasn’t going to make you go outside,” he said.
”Well, thanks. I appreciate it.”
”No problem. Can I ask why you were showering so late?”
”Oh, I went out with a couple of friends and I got back super late. I normally don’t shower at this time, though. It was more of a one-off,” you said, chuckling. 
“Yeah, I understand. I shower at the craziest times when I’m on call. I should probably get back to my team, but can you give me your phone number? You seem really nice, and maybe we could get coffee or something some time.”
”Sure!”
He pulled out a little notepad and a pen, nodding his head as you told him your phone number. When he had finished writing, he showed you to make sure that it was the correct number. Right before he left, he told you that his name was Rhett and that he’d be keeping in touch. Sure enough, when you woke up the next morning, there was a text on your phone from an unfamiliar number.
It’s firefighter Rhett from last night
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@littlebadariell @cycbaby @luckyladycreator2 @idontcare-11 @blue-aconite @maverick-wingman @shawty-fenty @littlemisstopgun @rosiahills22 @katieshook02 @justanothermagicalsara @caitsymichelle13 @smoothdogsgirl @adoringsebstan @cherrycola27 @alexxavicry @mrsjaderogers @mak-32 @thefandomimagines @tallrock35 @caatheeriinee07 @bradshawseresinbabe @rosesvioletshardy @anotherr-fine-mess
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Nine and Ten going absolutely insane every time Rose, Martha, Donna were in danger
vs
River having to break her wrist to get out of the angel’s grasp b/c Eleven wouldn’t help her  😭 😭 😭 😭 😭 😭 😭
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alchemocha · 6 months
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Filled with literally so many feelings about jimbotnik I could burst from the seams
Just… thinking about him, his upbringing, the reasons he is the way he is now, what’s buried beneath the crafted image…
The loneliness he’s likely felt growing up. The depression and anxiety and self loathing I’m sure he’s had since far too young that he buries so deep if it were to escape again it would probably have 3 heads now. But you can only hold so much back before that dam bursts and it all overflows in a flood
He’s so fascinating to analyze and dissect psychologically, and to overlook his whole life. I’d really like to write some pieces touching on those things more directly, I have so many thoughts I couldn’t possibly convey properly just by babbling
Give jimbotnik the love and friendships he deserves!!!
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somuchbetterthanthat · 7 months
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if i was foggy nelson i would punch Matt in the face (it's the one love language he can understand) and then i would kiss him to shut him up until he forgets that he is depressed and sad and self destructive and remembers that, at heart, he's a cocky, impulsive slut.
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manfromtheepa · 1 year
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walter you're so based and babygirl-pilled
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"....I beg your pardon? Am I supposed to know what any of that means? Are you insulting me?!"
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teenagefeeling · 1 year
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watching a netflix show about vacation rentals bc idk im bored and they're doing an episode about modern houses and i feel like i know just slightly too much about that topic for the enthusiam-level of this show. they went to philip johnson's glass house (very neat!) but the one host was like "and there was nothing else even remotely like it at this time!!!" meanwhile i happen to know that mies van der rohe designed the near-identical farnsworth house before that. also charles & ray eames built their los angeles house in the same year, which doesn't look exactly the same but very much is also a rectangular glass house. and those are just 2 i happen to know because i've been to them. like yes johnson's house is very cool and was very influential (and probably is the most famous of the houses i named) but like..... laying it on a liiiiitle thick lmao
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classyrbf · 1 month
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ENEMIES & FUCK BUDDIES! — TOJI FUSHIGURO
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SYNOPSIS...you and toji are both rival assassins who absolutely despise each other, but for some reason can't keep your hands off of one another when you're alone
INFO...toji x assassin fem!reader, hate sex, angry sex, name calling (bitch, asshole, slut), pet names (sweetheart, baby), guns mentioned, fight scenes, knife mentioned, blood mentioned, hair pulling, choking, slapping, spanking, doggy, riding, sweet ending, not proofread
OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated
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"Fuck...you," you manage to grunt out as Toji is plowing your pussy, the sheer force of his hips sending you forward. You hold onto your bedsheets as support, toes curling when the tip of his cock kisses your cervix.
"You're doing that right now, sweetheart," he replies with a snarky tone, landing a harsh smack across your plump ass, watching the way it ripples from the impact. "You're such a fucking bitch." His hand grabs a fistful of your hair, pushing your face down into the mattress as he somehow thrusts into your faster, his pace unrelenting.
You and Toji were rival assassins, always seeming to run into each other when you were both assigned to take out the same target. Of course the morey was on the line, and to get a one up on the other. He'd kill your target and sometimes you'd kill his. It was an ongoing feud between the two of you that never seemed to end. Some of the time it ended in you fighting each other, punches thrown, bullets fired, blood spills on the floor. All that was no use, though considering your target escaped. He'd blame you and you'd blame him.
He's costs you some good paying jobs, ruining your rank. You hated his guts just like he hated yours. But one thing you couldn't deny was how attracted you both were to each other. His eyes scanning over your body while yours stared at his plump limps. The tension was there, both of you were completely aware of that. So thick you could cut it with a knife. It was no surprise when after your very first fight with each other, you guys ended up ripping each others clothes off. As for the target? They escaped. And it went that way every single time no matter if the mission was completed or failed. His lips were on yours every time, fucking you with pure hate.
Though, this mission was different. Toji was assigned to kill you. You already had a hunch, you were one of the best trained assassins. As soon as he came knocking on your door, you knew he wasn't here to have conversation over cup of coffee because he fired shots right through your door before breaking it down. "You still alive, baby?" He laughed, wood creaking under his heavy boots.
"Unfortunately for you, yes." You fired shots right back at him, before running towards him to throw a punch. Your house was left a mess after the fight, a small cut on your cheek as you tried to catch your breath.
"Wanna call it a truce, sweetheart? I'm outta ammo," he chuckled, tossing his gun into the middle of the floor.
"You're a really bad liar, Toji!" You called out from behind the wall, looking at how much ammo you had left. One bullet. You rolled your eyes in annoyance, looking at the bullet holes that littered your wall and the array of useless guns on the floor. Shattered glass from your expensive vases at your feet.
"Awe, come on! You don't trust me?" You could hear the smirk in his voice.
"You literally came here to kill me." You slowly stood up against the wall, peeking out from behind it to see if you could spot where Toji was hiding. You raised your gun, carefully stepping over the glass.
"And? Isn't that our job?" You followed his voice towards the kitchen, playing defensive as you stayed alert of your surroundings.
"It is, baby," you smiled. "Which is why I'm gonna kill you first." You quickly turned the corner to the kitchen, finger on the trigger ready to shoot. Toji wasn't there.
"You put a lot of faith in yourself. I like that," he whispered from behind you. You quickly turned around and pulled the trigger, but he grabbed your wrist to divert your arm, the bullet scraping his arm. "You really just tried to shoot me!" He said in disbelief. He knocked the gun out of your hand, swiftly pinning your arms behind your back and holding a knife to your throat.
"Do it," you demanded. You felt the sharpness of the blade press into your skin, anticipating for the moment he sliced your neck open, but he pulled the blade away, pushing you away from him. Immediately, you turned around and looked at him with furrowed brows. "What are you doing?"
He just stared at you, blood staining his busted lip as he held the knife in his hand. "I can't fucking stand you." He threw the knife down, taking your face in his hands and pulling you in for a rough kiss, tongues moving so messily against each other.
"You're a pussy," you laughed at him for not being able to kill you while simultaneously pulling his shirt off.
"Shut the fuck up already," he growled.
Now, here you were, face mushed into the mattress, his dick reaching deep inside of you. Your eyes clenched shut, teeth clenched as he sweet spot over and over again. Though, you wouldn't let him get the satisfaction of knowing that. "Fuck me right or don't do it at all!" You taunted.
You heard a chuckle leave his lips, his grip on your hair tightening before trailing down to the back of your neck, gripping onto it as he lifted your body, your back now pressed against his sweaty chest. "Repeat that for me?" He snaked his hand around your throat, squeezing it.
"I said fuck me right or don't do it all," you spoke with full confidence. In a split second, he threw you back down on the bed, flipping you over onto your back like a rag doll as he pushed your legs apart, his thick cock slamming into your dripping hole. "Fuck!" You cried out.
"Is that good enough for you, slut?" He trapped your legs against your chest, his shaft dragging against your velvety walls. His heavy balls slapped against your ass, his hand wrapped tightly around your delicate throat. "I fucking hate you," he pummeled your pussy.
"I fucking hate you too," you snarled, the palm of your hand making contact with his cheek. Toji was shocked for a second before a grin began forming at the corner of his lips, his eyes darkening as he stared down at you. He returned the slap, a small whimper leaving your lips. "S-shit...mmmm." You bite down on your bottom lip.
"You hate me but this pussy says otherwise. I think she loves me." His snarky comment makes your eyes narrow, but you can't say that he isn't right. Your cunt squeezes around him, sucking him back in as he threatens to pull out each time. "Ohhh fuck, goddamn you feel so good," he grunted.
You place your hands on Toji's chest, using your strength to push him off of you and put him on his back, straddling him before you sink down onto his cock, aggressively and eagerly slamming your hips onto his. "You don't get to have all the fun, asshole." This time, your hand wraps around his throat, choking him. He can't help but stare up at you with mixture of lust and hate, watching the way your hips fluidly move as you ride him. Your eyes flutter shut as the bliss takes over you, pleasure coursing through your veins as you grow closer nd closer to your orgasm. "Ah, fuck!" You moan.
"Ride me like you mean it. I know you could do better than that." His large hand swats your ass as your pussy glides up and down his cock, a creamy ring forming at the base as it drips down his balls and makes a sticky mess between your thighs.
"Shut...shut the hell up!" Your brows furrow in pleasure, your body heating up as bring yourself closer and closer, teetering on the edge. "Yes! Yes!" Your entire body shudders, broken moans leaving your lips as you ride out your orgasm.
"Fuck, sweetheart," Toji's heavily breaths, his abs tensing up as he feels your cunt pulsating around him. Without warning he cums inside of you, rutting his hips against yours, ropes cum shooting deep inside of you. "Shit! Oh, shit!" He holds onto your waist tightly, eyes rolling back as he buries himself in your pussy.
"You came inside of me?!" You slap his chest.
"Not a big deal, get you a plan b tomorrow." He tries to catch his breath, a small smirk on his face.
"Whatever." You roll your eyes. You let out a small gasp when he pulls you down to his chest, hugging you. "What are you doing?" You asked, slightly confused.
"Just shut up and let me do what I need to do." He sighs. There's a moment of silence between you two as your two sweaty bodies press against each other.
"I had a clear shot on you in the hallway when you first came in," you blurt out, slowly moving your head up to look at him.
His eyes meet yours. "I had a clear shot on you in the living room."
"Why didn't you kill me?" It was a genuine question. The Toji Fushiguro was known to complete his missions—obviously that was before he met you.
"I could ask you the same." His thumb gently graces over the small cut on your cheek.
"Maybe...I like having you around." You admit, tracing circles on his skin.
"Yeah? Well, I've got a soft spot for you too." He has a small smile on his face as he stares at you with half lidded eyes.
"What about your mission?" Your voice is riddled with concern. Knowing how things work with an agency, they'll be after him just like they'll be after you. Both of you being hunted down for money, a large red target on your heads.
"Fuck the mission," he scoffed.
A small laugh erupts from your chest, "you kinda already did."
"Okay, smart ass," he rolls his eyes with a laugh.
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@kodzukein @inayasahin @mxchi-mxxn @vlsquuu @love-4-keum @thirtykiwis @viisgrave @bellefaerie @manifestis @oliviaissocool1 @prettyfacedream @bsi25 @zayn-210 @charbunxxi @nahoye @mistyheart @supernatrualqueen @lem-hhn @mimibesticon @fateisnotafactor @iwanttoberich420 @angelofthorr @honestlywtfisgoingon @araities @vampzity @spicynoodles23 @pinkbunnysblog @nn-hh192 @chrishak @keiva1000 @darkstarlight82 @brownbtch @70cosmo07 @sadmonke @notfancyrebelpaper
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valeskafics · 4 months
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"Heirs of the Dragon" - Dark Prince Regent!Aemond x Septa Twin!Reader
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a/n: a very late bday present to @zae5 - 2 weeks too late im sorry my love!!! inspired by a line from a convo with @officerbrowneyes's prince regent aemond heheheheheh. 🩷
Summary: Aemond writes to you at the Starry Sept, demanding you return home and leave the Faith. You are a fool not to believe his promise that he will come to retrieve you himself if you do not return to King's Landing.
TW: DUBCON, canon typical incest, profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, afab reader, dark/yandere behavior, semi public sex, asshole aemond, fingering, overstim, loss of virginity, p in v sex, breeding kink, degradation, religion kink, corruption kink, mentions of luke's death
Word Count: 2,500 words
Rating: 18+, MDNI
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.
Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷
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Doñus idañitsos, (sweet little twin)
As you have likely heard, I have been named Prince Regent, to rule in our elder brother’s stead as he recovers from his injuries.
I have need of you. Your time in the Faith is done. Return to the Red Keep with haste.
I expect to see you by my side within the fortnight.
Your beloved brother,
Aemond
His letter comes by way of raven and you stare at it for several long moments, mind addled with confusion. Four years ago, when you were first sent away from home, you would have longed for nothing more than to return to your beloved twin’s side. But now? You have grown accustomed to your life in the Starry Sept, and within one moon’s time, you are meant to take your vows and become a full septa rather than a mere novitiate. As much as it pains you, you take your quill in your hand and begin penning a letter to send back to your brother.
Lēkys, (big brother)
How does our dear brother’s health fare? We had been corresponding with some regularity, but I fear his injuries have rendered him unable to write to me any longer. Please tell him that his hāedar sends him all her love and prays that the Mother wraps him in Her healing embrace.
I am sorry, but I cannot come to you at this time, beloved brother. I am to take my vows soon and as such am needed here at the Starry Sept.
May the Warrior give you strength in your new role and may the Father grant you wisdom to lead our people.
Your idaña (twin)
It takes only a few days for Aemond’s reply to arrive, and the contents of it shock you.
Idañitsos,
Do not think that I am going to let you shirk your duties to your family so easily. I require you in King’s Landing immediately. This is not a request. It is a command from your Prince Regent. You do not have a choice in the matter.
I am your older brother and, if you test me any further, I will come to the Starry Sept to collect you myself.
Aemond
You know from the rumors that you have heard that Lucerys’ death, even if accidental, changed Aemond greatly, coupled with his recent rise to power. Never once in your life have you feared your twin. He is the one who dressed your wounds anytime you fell, dried your tears when your nephews and Aegon teased the two of you for not having dragons of your own. He has always been your greatest protector, the greatest source of love in your life.
But as you read his raven, you feel frightened. Surely he would not come all the way to the Reach when the realm is already in such chaos? Surely he would not pull you away from your duties?
It may not have been your choice to go to the Starry Sept, but you have found a love for the Faith here that you did not know before. Your mother sent you here after catching you and Aemond locked in a passionate kiss, exclaiming that she did not wish for more of her children to commit the sin of incest, offering you the choice of either wedding Prince Jacaerys or committing yourself to the Faith. The idea of marrying anyone other than Aemond horrified you, so you chose the latter, sharing a tearful goodbye with your twin before disappearing from his life for the next four years, save for your weekly letters, the only thing that kept him going.
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Days pass and soon, Aemond’s letter lays forgotten in the box where you keep the rest of your correspondence with him. You go about your daily duties, singing hymns in the sept, greeting worshipers, washing the statue of the Maiden. It is not the most exciting existence, but it is comfortable, safe. And it is honest.
However, the night before you are to take your vows, just as you are about to change into your nightclothes and say your evening prayers to the Mother, there is a knock at the door. You fix your habit back on your head and answer the door, seeing a member of the Kingsguard and one of the septons standing at your door. They inform you, with grim faces, that your brother has arrived. You ask if it is Daeron, here to visit you as he often does, living so closeby. But no. When you hear Vhagar’s mighty screech overhead, you know it is not Daeron whom they speak of.
Aemond is here.
They lead you into the sept, near the altar of the Maiden. Your footsteps echo as you cross the marble floor, the sound nearly deafening in your ears with every move you make.
Every move closer to your brother.
When you see him, he nearly takes your breath away. He is just as beautiful as you remember, his long silvery hair pulled back in a braid, the leather eyepatch covering his eye, his scar visible underneath it, his remaining eye boring into you, making you feel as if you are naked under his gaze despite wearing your septa’s robes. He has always had a way of seeing through to the very heart of you, and this is no different. He wears the crown of the Conqueror upon his head, and you must admit, it makes him look all the more handsome, Blackfyre sheathed in his scabbard, hanging on his hip. He looks every bit the king father wished for in a son.
You swallow thickly, trying to catch your breath as you dip into a low curtsy, bowing your head, “Brother. Or must I call you Your Grace now? I am unsure.”
The moment Aemond sees you again, an almost animalistic sense of excitement overtakes him, something very primal deep within him that only you seem to wake. He gives you an appraising look, gazing upon the way your septa’s robes, though modest, do little to hide the curves of your body, your sweet, innocent doe eyes gazing up at him, your beautiful hair that looks so like your mother’s tucked neatly into your habit.
“You may call me what you always have, dear sister,” he says, his voice low and powerful as it echoes through the sept, “I have come to take you back home where you belong. You have been away too long, idañitsos.”
You are taken by surprise when he pulls your hand toward him, pressing his lips to your knuckles and placing a betrothal ring upon your finger. You pull your hand away, staring at it in surprise before meeting his gaze.
“Brother, you cannot be serious. I am meant to take my vows tomorrow.”
Aemond’s eye narrows and he crushes you against his chest, holding you tightly as he whispers in your ear, his breath hot against your skin, “And so what? You are my betrothed. Your place is at my side.”
Your breath catches in your throat at the sheer desire in his eyes, the hunger, as you manage to mumble out, “Aren’t you meant to wed Lady Floris?”
Aemond scoffs, moving to caress your face with the back of his hand, feeling your soft, smooth skin against his, “You think I would prefer her to you? We have been meant to be together since we drew our first breaths, and will remain so until well after we’ve drawn our last.”
You glance around, noticing that the guards and septons have all been dismissed, leaving you and your twin alone in the sept, only the eyes of the Seven watching you as he touches you in the way a brother is not meant to.
“How do Helaena and Aegon fare?”
Your attempt to change the subject is ignored as Aemond moves his hand beneath your robes, resting it on your hip. His thumb draws gentle circles around your soft flesh, a wry grin spreading across his face at the way you shiver against him. He leans in close to you, his lips nearly brushing against yours as he gazes into your eyes. Aemond closes the gap between your lips, kissing you deeply, biting down on your lower lip to gain entrance to your mouth, his hand moving to cup your mound over your smallclothes, his finger pressing down against your pearl.
“You know you want me like I want you. Do not deny the love we share. That we have always shared.”
You try pulling away from him, though every part of your body screams at you to let him touch you, “Aemond, I am your sister, not your wife! You cannot touch me this way! I have dedicated my life in service of the Faith! Mother was right to separate us, love between kin is unnatural. Helaena and Aegon being wed was bad enough! Let us not damn our family any further!”
Aemond growls, pinning you between him and the Maiden’s altar, whispering hoarsely as he pushes the flimsy fabric covering your cunt aside, his fingers sliding inside you, making you cry out his name, both in surprise and pleasure. Gods, it shouldn’t feel so good to have him touch you like this, but his fingers are so long and graceful as they pump in and out of you, reaching spots you never knew existed as your warmth squeezes around him. He brushes against a particularly sensitive spot and smirks at the way you mewl, thrashing against him.
“This is no sinful act. Us being together is the will of the gods. We shall become one. Aegon is likely to die from his injuries and I shall be king. And you and I shall create true Targaryen heirs. Not like the Strong bastards our mother wished you to carry.” Aemond’s smile turns wicked as he leans in, nipping at your ear, “We shall rule together as husband and wife, the way it always should have been.”
Your head falls back against the Maiden’s statue as Aemond tugs open your robes, pushing your thighs further apart as he adds a third finger, stretching you wide, no doubt wanting to prepare you for his cock. He has every intention of breeding you, right here and now in the eyes of the Seven, claiming you as his. As he was always meant to.
“We’re in a place of worship-”
Aemond pays no mind to your protests, ripping your habit off, eyeing your curls as they fall free, tangling his free hand in them as he continues fucking you with his fingers. Your face twists with pleasure as the coil in your stomach tightens, Aemond bringing you closer and closer to your peak.
“You will be mine in every way, doñus zaldrītsos,” he vows, moving faster than before, your eyes rolling back, toes curling as you feel his thumb circling your pearl, “You will come back with me by choice or I will drag you back. Either way, you will take your place at my side and in my bed. After tonight, my seed will quicken in your womb and we will bring forth the next generation of Targaryens, legitimate and true.” (sweet little dragon)
You cry out his name as you reach your peak, feeling as if your entire body is on fire and Aemond is the only one with the power to diffuse it. He removes his fingers from you, licking them clean, a lewd smile on his lips as he promises you that next time, he’ll fuck you with his tongue. He turns you around, landing a hard slap against the bare skin of your ass as he slowly pushes his cock inside you. You whine pitifully, gazing up at the Maiden, begging for her forgiveness as he gropes at your breasts, hips snapping against yours wildly as he whispers the most depraved words in your ear.
“I’m going to fill this pretty little cunny of yours over and over, idañitsos,” he snarls, his stones slapping against you, the noises the two of you make in your joint pleasure echoing in the sept, the sound of your sin, your love, your lust, all of it there for the gods to hear as Aemond finally claims what he has wanted all these years, “You will look radiant when you are with child, your stomach round, your breasts full of milk. I can see it now. You will sit by my side and we shall rule the way we were always meant to. The true heirs of the dragon. Won’t we, sister?”
Too busy focusing on the feeling of his long, thick cock dragging against your walls, you mindlessly babble, “Yes, lēkys, gods, please don’t stop-”
“I’ve turned you into a wanton little whore, haven’t I, my sweet little septa?” Aemond chuckles, relishing in the idea of having corrupted you entirely, “The only god you’ll worship now is my cock. I am your king and you are my queen. Ñuhus dārys, say it for me, little one.” You repeat his words, a choked sob coming from your lips as he rips another climax from you, fucking you through it. (my king)
“Aemond, it’s too much-”
“Nothing is too much for you, ñuhus dārȳs,” he coos, “You are the blood of the dragon, you will take my cock, take my seed every night for the rest of your life and you will thank me for it, won’t you? You’ll thank your lēkia.” (my queen, big brother)
“Yes,” you whimper, as he turns you to face him, capturing your lips in another searing kiss as he fucks you with abandon, holding you close to him, “Thank you, lēkys, my king…”
“Come for me, little one,” he all but purrs against your ear, his hands caressing your breasts as his movements begin to slow, “Soak my cock again while I spill my seed inside you. Let this be the start of our future together. I will marry you here in this sept. The gods have been witness to our bedding ceremony. Fitting for a woman so devout as you.” He laughs, “What am I saying? You do not worship the Seven anymore. Only me.”
You nod, feeling his hand come up to wrap around your throat, the slight pressure bringing your pleasure to new heights as you manage to rasp, “Yes, brother. Only you…”
You know now that this is how it was always meant to be. You and Aemond came into this world together, it was folly to think that the two of you could ever be parted. As he spills himself inside you, his forehead resting against yours, nose brushing against yours as he kisses you again, slowly and with passion, you find yourself praying to the Mother that his seed quickens in your womb and that in nine moons, you will have a babe in your arms.
Aemond helps you back into your clothes, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, cupping your cheeks as he grins, “Come along, sweetling. We have a wedding to attend. Ours.”
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toji-girl · 25 days
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oh brother | r. sukuna
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synopsis: Sukuna has never wanted to be a brother, but that couldn’t be helped when his twin Yuji was born a few moments after him, and when his dad got remarried to your mom his worst nightmare came true, little did he know just how sweet and sinful you’d be, someone he wants to ruin. Thankfully no one will be around to witness it.
wc: 4.3k
tags: dark content (stepcest) + 18+ ONLY content + explicit smut: minors and empty blogs DNI + not beta read + repost & rewrite from a collab and old blog + modern au (no curses) + you’re shorter than him and Megumi + reblogs and comments are appreciated + jealous! Sukuna + he wraps his fingers around your neck but really no choking + unprotected sex + creampie + hard degradation such as whore and slut + public teasing + fingering + praising + he uses two belts for bondage + big bro/little sis used + feminine presenting reader such as wearing skirts and lip gloss + pet names + he won my poll + any missing tag lmk!
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Anger and embarrassment and a small tinge of want bloomed in your chest, flushing warmth through your entire body as you had no choice but to stand in front of your mirror with Sukuna.
Your step-brother who is an asshole of the highest regard, all muscle but lacks the brain in the head that rests between his shoulders, no, that seemed to be between his legs and he couldn’t just let you walk out of the house in a skirt so small. 
He walked around your trembling form, your fingers curled into the fabric of your skirt glaring at him in the mirror.
“My dad put me in charge, ya know the man of the house and what kind of brother would I be if I let you go out in this? If you just wanted a compliment all you have to do is ask.” His voice boarded on teasing and something else that you couldn’t pinpoint. 
Sukuna flicked the bottom hem of your skirt watching it swish giving him a very quick view of your panties, his favorite ones by far, the pink satin felt so good when he used it to jerk himself off, and the thought of you putting them back on after he came on it never failed to make him hard. 
“First of all, I’m twenty-two-” 
You were cut off hearing Sukuna chuckle and shake his head standing behind you again, you could feel the warmth of him roll off and seep into you. “And I’m twenty-three,” he bent down pressing his lips against the shell of your ear, “plus, I’m so much stronger and bigger than you.” 
“What the hell ever, you are not my dad, nor would I even consider you my brother. You’re a fucking pervert.” You spit meeting his gaze in the mirror, he smirked and took a step forward pressing his broad chest to your back and sliding his hand up your body to grasp your cheeks pinching them together knowing you liked that he has power over you like this. 
He ignored your tantrum and your mumbling while walking out of your bedroom chuckling again. “Change your skirt or you won’t be able to go out and have fun with your little friends,” Sukuna called out before heading into his own bedroom. 
You flipped him off knowing he couldn’t see it but it made you feel a bit better as you twirled around in the mirror bending over to see the edge of your panties, with a smirk you grabbed your phone and sat on your bed texting Megumi to come over along with a selfie that you knew would set the tone of why you wanted him over. 
The raven-haired man couldn’t help but get a little hard when your text popped up, the angle gave him a view of down your shirt and your pebbled nipples, the thought of him sucking on the pert buds only made his dick harder making him feel guilt for lusting after his best friends step-sister.
But somehow, it felt so right especially when you opened the door to greet him with open and wide arms with a giggle as you hugged Megumi tightly and pressed your tits against him. “Hi! ‘Gumi! How are you?” You asked letting him inside leading him to the kitchen hand in hand to see Sukuna standing there looking through the fridge. 
Sukuna turned to face you both the moment he honed in on your giggles. His red eyes quickly zoned in on your manicured fingers wrapped around his brother’s friend’s bicep with a sly smile as you looked at your step-brother. “I’m taking Megumi out for some boba and to chill at his apartment for a bit, don’t stay up too late.” 
His eyebrows pinched together in the middle and a frown graced his lips as he shook his head, and bits of pink strands fell from his hair. “Are you serious? You think I’m going to let you go out there dressed like that?” 
“Dressed like what?” You asked innocently batting your eyelashes, you were anything but and Sukuna knew it, and he knew it was a trap you were trying to set, the little game that began two years ago when you two first met is only bound to come to an end sooner or later. 
Sukuna shook his head again and shut the fridge. “I’m going to tag along, it’s not like Megumi asked you on a date or anything.” He said cooly eyeing the other man who stayed silent the entire conversation, he knew better than to get between you both in a conversation like this. 
You wanted to argue and stomp your feet like a petulant child and pout but you knew Sukuna would only find it cute and pat your head like a dog. “Great.” You muttered heading to the front door with Megumi letting Sukuna trail behind you and Megumi keeping an eye on his hand. 
Once you three arrived at the mall Sukuna was sure to stand between you and Megumi earning an elbow in the ribs from you. “Are you serious right now? Go stand on the other side of him.” You hissed annoyed he was trying his hardest to get under your skin. 
Sukuna looked at you raising an eyebrow. “I’m sorry, did you say something?” He asked with a devilish smirk. 
For a brief moment, you thought about stomping on his foot and walking away, but another idea quickly pushed it away, instead, you sidestepped him and slid your hand into Megumi’s tugging him away from Sukuna who stared at the back of your head with a glare. 
He hoped that you could feel it, the blaze of fury that danced in his eyes, dammit he knew that getting jealous of his twin brother’s friend and step-sister holding hands shouldn’t bother him but he’s your big brother and that means he has to protect you no matter the cost even though he hated that title. 
Lava-red eyes followed every movement you made, especially when you clung to Megumi pressing your tits against his arm again and looking up at him with soft eyes that almost watered when he complimented on the new dress you showed him. 
“Sukuna can sit out here and wait, I need help zipping up the back of it.” You told the blonde man once you three entered a clothing store, but little did you know that Sukuna overheard you and shook his head once more, it seemed to be his motion of the day. 
He set his large palm on Megumi’s shoulder and looked at him, a small pout gracing his lips before Sukuna smiled, one that wasn’t tender or warm, but one that spoke of a serious threat. “Actually can you do us a favor and get us some drinks? I’m thirsty from all this walking.” He told the younger man. 
Megumi nodded and glanced over at you with his lips pressed together in a thin line as he headed out of the store, as soon as he was out of sight your step-brother turned to look at you with fire in his eyes as he pointed to the dressing room. 
You looked around for anyone watching before slipping into the small room with Sukuna who followed behind you, his hands coming down on your shoulders as he loomed over you, your chest was pressed against the wall with him molded against you as you gripped your skirt. 
“Are you trying to piss me off?” He asked lowering his head until his lips were pressed against your ear, his chest puffed up with deep ragged breaths trailing his palms to your upper arms hearing you suck in a breath. 
“What do you mean?” You asked and turned your head to look at him, your glossy pink lips shone under the light, and the glitter mixed in made him want to rub it off with his thumb but instead, he chuckled, his red eyes darkening. 
He pushed you more against the wall making sure you felt how hard he was. “Letting Megumi come in here with you so what? He could finger you or something? You’re so filthy.” He sneered with faux disgust. 
His words swirled deep inside you causing every inch of your skin to feel like fire licked at it, the comeback you had ready was shot down, instead, you looked up at him batting your eyelashes, sure people might think you’re a bit of a bimbo but you still knew the game that was at stake. 
“Oh, no, I wasn’t going to let him just finger me, I would suck his cock until he blew his sticky load all over my face and lips then I’d lick it off.” You cooed. 
Sukuna moved one hand to the back of your neck holding you still as the other one slid down your back and into your skirt and panties. “Then you’d be nothing but a nasty whore if you did that, and if you want to be one then get on your knees.” He demanded in a tone that you couldn’t argue with. 
It was a challenge you didn’t want to back down from but still didn’t want him to have all the satisfaction. He watched with a smirk as you kneeled at his feet.  
He sat down on the small chair spreading his long legs, the room was already cramped but with him like this, you truly had nowhere to go, his leg blocked the door. 
You rested the heels of your feet under your ass and palmed his thighs looking at him. He watched you closely, his eyes roamed each inch of you, the gaze lingering on your breasts. 
This was perhaps the most insane thing either of you had ever done before, but you never stopped once as you tugged his shorts down mid-thigh. 
Already there was a wet stain on the front of his boxers, you pulled the hand down letting his cock spring free, the tip leaking. “Mhm, so cute.” You teased and giggled wrapping your manicured nails around the shaft giving it a few pumps of your fist. 
Sukuna felt like he was about to explode the longer you stared at it, your eyes going up and down as you trailed your finger up the seam of his ballsack with a sweet smile, and God those lips of yours, he really wanted to see them wrapped around his dick. 
He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth as he rested his hands on his legs. “Good luck hiding it.” You said as you stood up and smiled, patting his head with a sinister smile now, the good girl performance you play has to be tiring by now Sukuna thought as he watched you with wide eyes. 
You poked your head out and looked both ways before stepping out of the dressing room just in time for Megumi to walk back to the small cluster of changing rooms with three cups in his hand, his eyes roamed over your disheveled shirt but kept quiet especially when Sukuna joined you both. 
The rest of the trip you ignored the daggers Sukuna sent you by cuddling back up to Megumi, even inviting him inside when he pulled his car into the driveway, who was quick to hop out and open your door helping you out.
Before he could follow you into the house Sukuna stopped him, his face twisted with jealousy, the feeling sat like a heavy rock in his stomach, and he knew he shouldn’t be, the relationship between you and him already dipped into taboo and he’s all for pushing the limits. 
“Before you say anything to me about touching your sister, remember she’s only that because your dad married her mom and she is well over the age of twenty, a grown woman who doesn’t need her step-brother to follow her,”  Megumi said matter-of-factly with a titled smile. 
Sukuna stared back at him, his jaw clenched with anger at the pushback his brothers friend was giving him. “A slut like her needs to be well trained before letting her off the leash so I had to go with.” He shot back and rolled his eyes before disappering upstairs for a little alone time. 
This meant he loves to use your panties to jerk himself off, or sometimes he’ll wait until your work before sneaking into your room to lay face first in your pillows, the overly sweet vanilla perfume you use all the time invaded his brain like little bugs festering on it as he humped your bed. 
“Fucking loser.” He mumbled under his breath stopping at your door and leaning in to listen to the hushed whispers exchanged between you and Megumi followed by your annoying giggling, oh how Sukuna wanted to fuck you senseless until you couldn’t even speak a word. 
You squealed and he heard the squeak of your bed, his hand swooped down to the doorhandle gripping it in a tight hold, the flesh on his fingers turning white. He pulled it away and knocked on the door, a lie sitting on the tip of his tongue as he waited for you to open the door. 
“Come in!” You called out sitting up on your elbows to watch it swing open to reveal Sukuna who stood there, his face pinched in anger then he soon relaxed when he saw Megumi standing by your bookshelf fingering the spines of the paperbacks. 
Sukuna glanced at him then you, his eyes drifted down to your thighs, your skirt barely managing to hide anything, even your fishnet stockings couldn’t hide the soft satin of your panties which caused his dick to twitch and he found himself thanking Mother Nature for the warm weather and your short shorts and skirts you always wore. 
“We need to head back to town to help my dad, he just called and said he’s broken down.” 
It was so easy for him to tell the lie because he knew what would happen as soon as Megumi left. “I should head back anyway, I need to do some studying,” He said then looked at you holding a book in his hand, “thank you for inviting me out, I’ll see you Saturday.” 
Silence choked your bedroom once Megumi was gone and the door clicked shut, you or Sukuna didn’t dare to move or even speak until you heard the car door shut, you watched him with bated breath as he walked over to the edge of your bed towering above you. 
He leaned down resting his hands on either side of you, his face only mere inches away from yours, and his eyes blown with lust and desire. “I’m going to make sure you don’t think about another man from now on, all you’re going to want is your big brother.” 
His lips slotted against yours in a hot kiss as he grabbed your nape forcing you to fall on your back, he used his entire weight to pin you down wanting to break you and your bratty behavior. “I think all you need is a good fuck, and you’re not going to get it anywhere else.” He growled against your lips. 
His tongue slid in your mouth after he finished his sentence pressing his whole body against yours leaving not even an inch, you succumbed quickly and slid your hands up his shirt touching him as he was touching you, his free hand was under your shirt cupping your tit over your bra. 
“Does it turn you on knowing that your big brother will take care of your sweet pussy?” He whispered in between nibbling on your bottom lip, it really didn’t take long for you to whine a little seeking his lips on yours again as you nodded wildly, your head thrashing about. 
He pulled away and kneeled between your legs, a smirked tugged his lips up as he looked down at you, with locks of pink hair that framed his handsome face.  
“You turned into such a dumb slut for me with just a bit of kissing.” He mused. Sukuna leaned over you and hooked two fingers in your mouth and pulled on your cheek, his other hand ripped a hole in the crotch of your fishnets to stroke your slick puffy cunt over your panties.
“I hate you!” You whined which was muffled by his fingers still in your mouth as he rubbed tight circles on your clit with a deep chuckle, his cock throbbed at the way you sucked on his digits like it really was his dick, you looked so unashamed that it made him hot and bothered to a point he’s never felt. 
That wasn’t the truth.
You love him more than you should and he fucking knows it.
“You do? Are you sure about that?” He asked, moving your panties to the side. He glided a finger through your pussy lips gathering the pearly essence that accumulated from his teasing and words. 
He brought the digit to his mouth and sucked it. “For someone who hates me so much you sure are wet.”
He thrust two fingers inside of you making your eyes roll into the back of your head. This is the first time in almost two months since you’ve been touched like this, your toes curled as you gripped the sheets gritting your teeth.
“Sukuna!” You cried out in a muffled tone and grabbed his wrist staring at him with lust-blown-pupils. 
“Submit yourself to me. Show me how you beg.” He demanded in a rough tone.
 You ground your hips against his hand and nodded letting yourself slip into submission, as much as you put on a front all you wanted was this; to have your big brother put you in your place. 
“You look so fucking pathetic trying to get more. Is this what you want?” He removed his fingers from your mouth with a sadistic grin. 
“Oh, God, yes! More!” You moaned as he picked up the pace drawing you to your orgasm, but he pulled his fingers out tasting you again.
“Yes, refer to me as your God. Taste how fucking wet you got for me.” He mused running his fingers along your lips.
“Sukuna - wait - we should stop before we cross a line we can’t come back from,” You said feeling some of the fog lift from your mind, but it was way too late now and you knew it but the ‘righteous’ part of you knew it this was wrong, all you needed was a bit of a push. 
“Don’t you think it’s way too late for that, sis?” Sukuna asked, quirking an eyebrow with a huff. 
“We’re related.”
“We’re two consenting adults, right? Unless I’ve mistaken this,” he held up the two fingers that were just knuckle deep inside of you, “for something else? Perhaps you’re just a slut who wants her pussy fucked and filled? And we’re only related through marriage, it might be wrong to some but you still want it, I can feel it.”
You rolled your eyes and glanced at his hand, his fore and middle finger shone under your soft lamp. 
“Man. You’re awfully cocky for someone dripping.” He spread his fingers apart and you could see your arousal strung between the digits.
“What about after?” You asked him wanting to know what’s happening next. 
“Let’s talk about that later.” He pulled you against him, kissing you again. Each stroke of his tongue exploring your mouth made you lose all sense of self-control, when he had you flat on your back again, you didn’t say anything, letting the hidden feelings take over. The consequences of your actions didn’t matter anymore as you wrapped your arms around his neck.
He yanked your shirt up and your bra down, exposing your nipples. He drew the left one in his mouth while he pinched the other. He used his knee to grind it against your cunt as your hands fisted his hair and curled your fingers in the soft locks. 
Sukuna wasn’t acting sweet. He grabbed and groped harshly, leaving indents in the soft skin of your waist and hips for tomorrow, a reminder that you’re his. You whined against him when he removed his finger from your nipple down to your clit where he circled it, his mouth went to your other nipple.
“Tell me how much you hate me.” He growled with your nipple between his teeth.
“I hate you-fuck-I hate you so much!” His movement on your clit became faster, building your orgasm up, but once again he stopped right before you could reach it.
He brought his hand up, closing it around your throat. “I want you to cream on my dick. I’m going to fill you up with so much cum it’s going to leak down your legs.” He warned with an evil smirk. 
“Please, I want you to fill me up.” You begged desperately, switching gears just like that at the promise of being fucked. 
He got off the bed and got naked before he walked over to your dresser grabbing two belts before he joined you back on the bed. “What are you doing with those?” You asked taking your panties off quickly, your whole body felt like it was on fire at this point as you watched him.
Sukuna smiled and helped you to the iron four-poster bedframe before he spread your legs pushing on the back of your thighs until they met your ears, you watched while panting as he looped the belt around each ankle and the bedframe keeping your legs wide open and in place.
Before he did anything else he lifted your arms up and slid them through the belt loop tying your ankles and wrists to the frame with a grin. “So you can’t run away, you’ve been so bitchy lately and I think all you need is a good fuck.” He replied getting back on top of you he rubbed the head up and down your slit teasing you.
“Sukuna!” You whined.
With a sadistic smile, he roughly thrust his hips thrusting inside you, bottoming out. “Damn, you are so fucking wet for me.” He grunted.
For a moment he stayed still, lavishing the feeling of you. Pulling out, he snapped his hips forward then stopped before he grabbed a pillow and shoved it under your ass. 
When he thrust back in and at this angle, he hit the sweet spot over and over, which made stars burst behind your eyes which he took note of and continued to fuck you with slow precise snaps of his hips. 
“The best pussy I’ve ever fucked.” He moaned and moved his hand to your throat squeezing it lightly, just enough pressure to add to the pleasure coursing through you with each thrust, the bliss of his cock throbbing against your walls made you feel dizzy in the best way possible. 
“Who do you belong to?” He asked as he leaned in kissing you again, the soft muscle tangling with yours. 
“You! Just you!” You cried out against his lips. 
He thrust back inside you, his thighs slapping against the back of your legs. “Mine.” He thrust again. “Mine.” Again. “Mine.” and again. Sukuna was now a hundred percent sure that he was in love with you, and he didn’t give a fuck about the marriage between the marriage of your parents or what anyone thought because no other woman could possibly hold a torch to you. 
He grabbed a handful of your hair and pulled you closer to him. You’ve seen Sukuna become primal before when he was mad or trying to fight someone,  but this time was different. The animalistic urge to fuck you until you couldn’t think straight or talk took over him. He wanted to claim you as his entirely.
Drool hung from your mouth. “I’ve fucked you senseless, huh?” Sukuna said laughing deep in his chest followed by a loud moan when you squeezed his cock that pistioned in and out of you, the wet squelching filled your bedroom accompanied by the smell of sex and the bed creaking. 
“Now tell me why I should let you cum?” He asked, slowing his pace to a teasing one making sure to slowly fill up your quivering pussy. 
“I need this. I need you!”
“That’s all you have?” He laughed. 
You growled under your breath wanting to cum. “No other man has made me feel this way, only you can big bro.” You mewled tugging on the belt. 
He didn’t reply instead he fucked you with new vigor at the name, ‘big bro’ and Sukuna knew for sure he was a fucking pervert getting off to you calling him that but again, he was well past the point of caring. “Good girl.” He praised kissing you again. 
Your orgasm finally crashed over you, your pussy fluttering which drew endless moans and incoherent mumbling from you and Sukuna. He snapped his hips forward one last time filling you fully. His orgasm feasted on yours, your walls tightened almost painfully around his cock as he spilled his load into you. 
He sighed in contentment and rested his forehead against yours feeling his cum leak out onto your sheets, Sukuna stayed still for a few minutes before pulling out to see the mess you two created between your thighs. “A sight I will never get tired of looking at, you are such a good little sister. Now say thank you.” He told you patting your head with a smirk. 
Your eyes met with his in an intense stare down, the way he looked at you made your heart and pussy flutter pushing out a glob of cum. “Thank you for fucking me, and I will never forget it.” You replied looking away shyly. 
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soarrenbluejay · 9 days
Text
Supervillains for a community. (Well, except those jerks over in Gotham, insular lot, but they’re they’re one problem) Of course they do- supervillains are a group defined by strong opinions and a willingness to see them through, often with a healthy dash of societal failures and trauma as a catalyst.
The fentons, while not active even on the online message boards, are well known and explosive when they do show up, full of fascinating insights and hours long rants on mad science on hair pin turns courtesy of that ADHD attention span. Bit of the cryptids you feel honored to bump into kind of deal. Besides, like a good quarter of the community as it aged, they’d settled down and had kids (not necessarily in that order) and taken it very seriously! Out in the middle of nowhere, where even the most fearsome government outpost members, the local branch of the IRS, quake before them in fear. Out of the way.
Reveal gone okay-ish, Danny moves to Gotham still to get some air bc now things are Akward and he landed that engineering scholarship which is loads better than any other college would give him with his track record. So- the mysterious Fenton children are finally crawling out of hiding! Everyone is psyched! And roll in to Gotham en masse to witness the fireworks!
Except Danny is Determined To Be Normal. He’s had enough of the throwing himself into harms way shit for a lifetime- he wants to be free to peacefully built Rube Goldberg machines and unintentional increasingly complex bombs to his hearts content. JAZZ, on the other hand- the coveted token Normal One, has finally snapped! She’s watched her baby brother she practically raised throw himself into danger over and over and could do nothing, and now that she’s exposed to this whole network of superheroes outside of small town Amnity, some of those uglier emotions are coming out. And boy is she pissed! And can’t afford to show it much while filing the paperwork to have Arkham legally razed to the ground!
See I love this idea of like, niches in superhero society. A villain the heroes know they can plop their kiddo down with for an exciting afternoon brawl while they take care of a particularly grisly case and come back to a few hours later ranting about some new life lesson and a new move they really want to try. A villain who has a functioning moral compass despite their somewhat batshit long term goal and you can contact to fuck with another villains’s plan so they can laugh at them and you can have an easy afternoon. One who pries up hostile architecture and fills in pot holes, idk man. Get creative here, there’s such potential!
So Jazz becomes a Training villain- someone the heroes know their sidekicks will walk away from in a fight 100% of the time, usually with some new lesson to ponder and only a couple of bruises. Sometimes even snacks!
She also absolutely ambushes mentors to check that they’re worth the kiddo, which they appreciate once they get over being jumped in a dark alley by a 7 foot Amazon trained force of nature. They are not used to being on that side of the jumping, it’s a little unnerving.
(Yes, she low key adopts Shazam upon checking in with him on cursory ‘is the main hero of this city and asshole’ checkin. Yes, the super clones get yoinked out from under Superman’s negligent thumb to go have a blast with Ellie. What about it?)
This however only encourages more assorted weirdos to crawl out of the woodwork. It’s not often one of their own forfeits their potential spot for the running of the coveted Most Normal I Swear prize, but when they do it’s bound to be good! But jazz is off hounding various heroes and punching the faces in of pedophiles and shit whenever there’s no cape within easy reach, and so is a mite bit harder to contact than Danny, who has innocently gotten an apprenticeship under a clockworker for access to their workshop and is gleefully going about doing nerdy shit with great abandon.
Plus this is Gotham. No one gives a shit if someone in the Mad Alchemist uniform and still smoking from their latest experiment pokes their head in a window to bother the local shrimp teen- none of the usual social rules apply, everyone’s crazy here! So everyone drops any and all attempts at masking and just acts their genuine unhinged selves, much to the alarm of the Bats and frustration of Danny.
Bc he cannot get these mfers to go. Away. Even liberal use of the creep stick has little effect when the interloper is calibrated for an opponent with super speed or laser vision or whatever, and he’s trying to maintain his guise as a Normal College Student Do No Investigate.
So he calls in the big guns. He’s not super active in the supervillain kids group chat ever since things in amnity calmed the fuck down post becoming King and then immediately using a loophole that says he will not take the throne until he is grown, as defined by finishing learning his trade a la the medieval standards Pariah set up. So he can just take his sweet ass time with his graduate degree and out of inter dimensional bull shit that much longer! Point is, he hasn’t taken the chance to rant over there in a while, so his Crazy friends are getting a lil worried.
The change to come over and shout at their batshit crazy but (mostly) well meaning parent AND see Danny? Score!
The bats, however, are getting awfully suspicious about this one kid that villains from all over the country are flocking to, especially young and upcoming ones as of recently! And he’s acting his engineering course- all the worst rogues are known to have flown through their PhD studies prior to Cracking. They seem to have a real problem on their hands with this Fenton guy.
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wwilsonbarness · 8 months
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i messed up...
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pairings:  bucky barnes x pregnant!reader
summary: you go against what you and bucky agreed, how will he react?
warnings: angst, pregnant reader, asshole bucky, none more i think?
word count: 1219
a/n: Bucky's a major ass in this but i have part two started if anyone is interested :)
Feedback, likes and reblogs are much appreciated :) 
I do not give permission for my work to be copied, reposted or translated on any other platform.
part 2
masterlist
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You didn’t mean to mess up this bad, you just wanted a normal day, a day where you could leave the tower alone without an Avenger there to protect you. 
You knew what you signed up for when you and Bucky became official. He had told you so many times that being with him put you at risk but you didn’t care, you loved him too much to be without him. He had insisted that since that day you would have someone there to protect you at all times, you knew it was in a loving way it was a lot to handle, and ever since you and Bucky discovered you were pregnant it had only gotten more intense. You knew it was for the better but it was suffocating you, which is why you went to the store alone this morning. It wasn’t far from the tower and you would be back within the hour, surely nothing could happen in that time?
On your walk home your phone started to buzz, and not just once but it kept buzzing until you opened the chat and the messages started loading in. They were from Sam, the first was a picture of you, from just 15 minutes earlier, you were reaching up to the top shelf in the store and your shirt had risen up, making your bump slightly more visible. How someone noticed that you have no idea. The rest of the text messages were fairly calm but the last one made you panic.
Sam
where are you? let me know you’re okay please Y/n are you safe?  He doesn’t know yet. 
Shit. Bucky was going to be furious at you, he had told you so many times not to go out alone because of this very reason. Now everyone was going to know that you and Bucky had a baby coming. You and Bucky had both agreed that you would keep your pregnancy between as few people as possible, for the baby’s safety and now you’ve compromised that. Only the other Avengers, your family and a couple of friends knew about it. 
Unintentionally you slowed your pace for the rest of your walk, sending Sam a quick text to let him know you were safe and on your way back.  You were scared to face Bucky but at least you could tell him yourself before he found out online or by Sam. 
It doesn’t take long even with your slow pace to get back, you hesitantly push the button for your floor, mentally preparing yourself for facing Bucky. He had been especially insistent on keeping your baby away from the public because of his long list of enemies and being a part of the Avengers meant that list was forever growing. 
When the lift dings and the doors open you pause for a second before stepping out, first you check yours and Bucky’s bedroom but it’s empty so you head for the common room. When you walk in Bucky’s there, as well as Sam, Tony, Natasha and Steve. At first glance things look normal, and no one notices you walking in until you speak. “Hi..”
That’s when Bucky turns around, his jaw was clenched together, brows furrowed, anger practically seeping out of him. He knew. You want to apologise but you can’t manage to get any words out. A few seconds pass before Nat’s voice breaks the silence. “Are you okay Y/n?” You nod towards her, fidgeting with your fingers trying to distract yourself from the shouting match you knew was about to begin. You’d seen Bucky angry before but never this much and never because of you. 
“Bucky, I’m so-“ You couldn’t finish your sentence before he interrupted you 
“Did you not listen to anything I said to you? Did you really just ignore everything? I told you this would happen but what? You just did it anyway?“ 
“Buc-“ He wouldn’t listen, his words were spilling out of him. He didn’t even know what he was really saying. He was just so scared and angry at himself for not protecting you and your baby. 
“You’ve seen what the people we deal with can do and you still acted like a complete idiot.” You could hear muffled sounds of Sam and Nat trying to stop him from going any further but all you could focus on was Bucky’s words.  
“No. How could you make such a careless mistake?” 
Your eyes were growing wetter with each word he said but you tried to keep yourself composed. You didn’t feel as if you had any right to be upset, you were the one who messed up. 
“I wasn’t trying to..” You attempt to interrupt him and defend yourself but at this point you knew that was pointless. 
“I mean seriously,” He pauses for a moment, contemplating his next words, “it’s like you don’t care about our baby at all.”
Oh. That one hurt. He had to know you cared right? Your baby was everything to you. Could he really think you didn’t care?
Tony had stayed quiet up until now. “Enough James!” He screeched from behind Bucky, “I won’t let you talk to Y/n like that, either calm down or leave my tower.” 
You knew he was going to be angry at you but you were not prepared for this much of it. Bucky stares at you for a few seconds before he walks out, dropping his head down to your stomach and scoffing as he does so. Now it wasn’t just anger you felt from him, it was disappointment too. 
You can’t bring yourself to move from the spot you’ve been standing in since you arrived, the only thing breaking you out of your trance was someone’s hand on your shoulder. You weren’t sure who until they spoke. “Y/n? Are you alright?” 
It was Sam, you manage to turn to him and stutter out, “I‘m sorry.” 
“It’s okay.” He brings his hand up to your head and pulls you gently towards him for a much needed hug. “He’s not angry with you, he’s just scared. It’s gonna be okay.” 
“I just wanted to do something for myself, I don’t want to have to rely on an Avenger everytime I want to go to the store.” 
“I know, he shouldn’t have gotten angry like that. I’m not making any excuses for him but he’s never felt love like he does for you. You and this baby are everything to him, he’s scared to lose you.” 
“Do you think he’ll forgive me?” Your voice is quiet, almost too quiet but Sam can just hear you.
“I know he will, he just needs some time to cool down.” You nod your head against Sam’s chest, part of you knew Bucky would forgive you but an even bigger part of you believed you had messed up too bad. 
You reach into your bag and take out the small white teddy you bought, when you read the words printed on its tiny outfit you start to cry harder. It read, “Best Dad Ever”, you just hoped Bucky would forgive you so you could give it to him. 
If you could go back to this morning and change your decision you would. You just want things back the way they were. 
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daisynik7 · 6 months
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imma hit you with a twofer: extra smooth by aaliyah with geto...and gimme more by brittany spears with kishibe
Extra Smooth
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Pairing: Suguru Geto x f!reader
Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Word Count: ~3.0k
cw: next-door neighbor Geto who is kind of an asshole, shy reader, smut – PIV sex (doggy style), cunnilingus, sex without a condom, sex toy use
Summary: Your next-door neighbor is loud, inconsiderate, and unfortunately, very hot. No matter how many times you bang on his door with another new noise complaint, he’ll continue to repeat his offenses nearly every weekend. You’re too timid to submit a formal complaint to the landlord, so you shrug it off, hoping that one day, he’ll suddenly become nice. That day comes sooner than you think, when he unexpectedly makes a visit to your apartment, discovering the real reason you need your peace and quiet.
Author’s Note: @demonwoman Mephisto! I LOVE this song and Aaliyah, honestly this was so perfect for Geto. Thank you for requesting a two-fer for the y2k karaoke party! I’ll post the Kishibe one soon. Had a lot of fun writing this, and I hope you have just as much fun reading it! Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciating, thank you for reading! MDNI divider by @/cafekitsune.
part 1 of to all the boys who live next door anthology series
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Even with your headphones in, music on high, you can still hear the loud bass reverberating through the shared wall of your apartment. You remove one of the buds in your ear to press it to the plaster, listening carefully to your neighbor having another party next door. Rolling your eyes, you save the document on your screen before shutting your laptop closed, quickly putting on a pair of mismatched sweatpants and sweater. This isn’t the first time you’ve had to go over to Suguru Geto’s apartment to ask him to lower the volume. You did it last weekend, and the one before that, even twice last month. It isn’t fun for you to be that person, but the intense bass that rattles your bedroom walls really is distracting. You thought that after the first two times you complained, he would be more conscious of it. Nope, still noisy and obnoxious as ever. The problem is you’re too chicken shit to make a formal complaint to your landlord. Of course he isn’t taking it seriously, not from his timid, home-body neighbor next door. Why should he when it’s only you that it’s bothering? 
You slide into your fuzzy slippers and make your way out into the hallway, closing the door shut behind you. A few steps and you’re in front of Geto’s, knocking three times. You can hear people chatting and laughing from inside, not responding. You wait another couple of seconds before forcefully pounding on the door with your fist, finally getting a reaction. The chatter hushes and soon, he reveals himself, answering the door with a tight grin on his face, clearly annoyed. “What can I do for you, neighbor?” he grits through his teeth, still maintaining a forced smile. 
You cross your arms over your chest, suddenly insecure in his presence. There’s no denying it; he’s an attractive man, tall and lean beneath tight-fitting clothes. Long, black hair drapes down his back, a portion of it wrapped in a loose bun, loose strands falling before his handsome face. And sure, maybe sometimes he crosses your mind while you’re in your bedroom, playing with the toys you have currently hidden away in your nightstand. But that’s as far as it goes: fantasy. In reality, your next-door neighbor is an asshole.
“Could you please lower the volume of your music? It’s really loud.” You decide not to bring up the other incidents from the past, not wanting to aggravate the situation any further. 
He grins at you, disingenuous, definitely irritated, but trying not to show it. “Sure. I can do that. Anything else?”
You shake your head, muttering a quiet, “Thanks.” You glance at the people inside, who stare at you, snickering to each other.  
“Nice slippers, by the way,” he taunts, before slamming the door shut. There’s an uproar of laughter from inside, and you retreat back into your home, irked by his attitude. It’s not that hard to be considerate of others, right? So why is he making this so much more difficult than it needs to, making you feel like the asshole? You shake it off, trying not to let it bother you. He actually does lower the volume, so you’re satisfied, despite the unnecessary insults you hear from the other side. God she’s so lame. She’s home alone on a Friday night, what do you expect?
With another roll of your eyes, you open your laptop, resuming where you left off. Your fingers type away at the keys fluidly, your concentration regained, hating yourself a little bit for what you’re about to type, especially after what just happened:
Yeah, you want this cock, don’t you?
Been hungry for it this entire time, huh?
[clothing rustling]
Well, go ahead. Come get it. Use me like you’ve always wanted to. 
[spits into hand, starts stroking his cock]
I’ll be a good neighbor to you from now on. The very best.
~~~
You finish the script past midnight, falling asleep before you get a chance to proofread and edit it. There’s no title yet, though you have a vague idea of what you want it to be. Saturdays, you’re usually out with friends throughout the day, so you decide to finish the rest of it once you’re back home from dinner tonight. Before you leave, you type a quick title at the top of the page: [M4F] Your Hot Asshole Neighbor Finally Decides to Be Nice to You. 
This isn’t the first script you’ve written. Last month, you tried your hand at it and it got picked by one of your favorite nsfw voice actors. The thrill of hearing their deep voice moaning the words you wrote motivated you enough to work on another. The commission payment is an added bonus. With your full-time job occupying your week, weekends are the only free time you have to write, especially Friday nights. That’s why you need your concentration; and that’s why Geto’s loud music bothers you so much. You can’t completely hate him, though. After all, he’s the inspiration behind this latest piece, though you will never admit that to him. Ever. In fact, this entire gig you’re doing is a secret only for you to harbor. Not even your closest friends are aware that you’re doing this as a hobby. 
The document sits temporarily forgotten on your laptop while you galivant with your besties throughout the day. After a delicious dinner together, they drop you off to your apartment, where pour yourself a glass of white wine to sip on in your pajamas while you edit your naughty script at the dining table. 
You’ve read it twice through, starting from the top for a third review when there’s a knock on your door. You check your phone, searching for a text from a friend who might be stopping by, but you see none. Confused, you tip toe in your fuzzy slippers to look through the peephole, surprised to see Geto standing on the other side. 
You open the door, greeting him hesitantly. “Um, hi.”
He nods, hands in his pockets, giving you a quick scan before speaking. “Hey. I, uh, locked myself out. The landlord isn’t going to be back until an hour or so and I’m too cheap to call a locksmith right now. Is it cool if I just hang out in here while I wait?”
You consider this carefully, still in disbelief that this happening. You can’t just kick him to the curb and refuse, especially when it’ll only be for a short while. Deciding to let bygones be bygones, you agree to help him, opening the door wider to let him through. 
“Thank you,” he mutters, stepping inside. “Do you want me to take my shoes off?”
“Yes. I think I have some slippers for you. I’ll be right back.” You rush to your bedroom, searching for a pair of slides that he can use in the meantime. It takes a while to find them, buried under a pile of junk in your closet. Before you head out to meet him, you quickly put a bra on, acutely aware that he might have caught sight of your nipples peeking through the thin layer of your shirt. It doesn’t matter, though; he doesn’t think of you in like that anyways. You’re just his lame, lonely neighbor next door, right?
You return, looking towards the couch, expecting to see him sitting there. To your horror, you catch him at the dining table, seated where you previously were before he arrived, staring at your laptop screen. 
“Hey!” You hustle towards him, slamming it shut with enough force to rattle the table. 
He glances at you, cheeks red, an odd expression on his face. “What was that?” he asks, pointing to the computer. 
You snatch it away, storing it in one of the kitchen drawers, desperate to hide it as if the damage hasn’t already been done. “Nothing. It’s nothing.”
He stands up, lips parted, trying to find the words to say. “That was…I’m pretty sure it said…Is that about me?”
Your skin is sweltering now, beyond freaked out and unsure how to fix this mess. Is it better to lie and try to chalk it up as one big joke? Or should you be honest and hope he’s understanding about it? Either way, there’s no turning the clock back. He’s already read something, and it’s not going to be leaving his mind anytime soon. 
You decide to tell him the truth, as best as you can explain it. “Okay, I know it’s weird, but I write these types of scripts for voice actors to perform. It’s just a little part-time hobby I have, and I even get paid for it. Sure, it’s a little risqué, but it’s nothing illegal, okay?” He continues to stare at you, expression relaxing just the slightest bit. 
“Also, it’s not about you. Maybe it’s a little bit inspired by you, but it’s definitely not about you. Not exactly,” you add, uncertainty laced in your voice. This is even more mortifying than you expected it to be. Is it too late to break the lease on your rent and move across town?
It’s quiet for what seems like forever. He doesn’t respond, contemplating your explanation silently to himself. Eventually, he takes a couple steps towards you, reaching behind to slide the drawer open, pulling your laptop out. You’re frozen, stunned by his close proximity, anticipating his next move. Finally, he says, “I want to read the rest of it.”
“What?”
He smirks, tension easing from his shoulders as he sits down, taking a swig from your wine glass. “I want to finish it. It was getting good before you stopped me.” He opens your laptop screen, the document appearing exactly where he left off. 
You bury your face in your hands, taking the seat beside him, groaning. “I can’t believe this is happening right now.” You refill your glass almost to the brim with wine, taking a large gulp of it before passing it to him. 
“Did you really think you could keep something like this a secret? This is pretty wild,” he chuckles, tipping it into his mouth, at the same spot where you did.
“I didn’t think you’d be the first person to find out, though.” You take a deep breath, preparing yourself for whatever is about to unravel from this. 
“Fair enough.” He scans the words, reading each one meticulously. “So are these lines supposed to be, like, what the voice actor says? It’s just them talking?”
“Yup.”
He giggles, blushing. “Okay, so, we’re pretending that I’m the asshole neighbor. Got it. Are you sure this isn’t about me?”
“It’s inspired by you. Inspired,” you reiterate, swallowing a large gulp of alcohol. 
He bites his lip, hiding his smile. “Okay. Um, so it says here in the bracket that there’s knocking.”
“That’s the cue for sound effects.”
“Got it. So,” Geto knocks thrice on the surface of the dining table, reading, “What can I do for you, neighbor? Oh, you want me to turn the volume down? Is it too loud for you again? This is totally about me!”
You can’t help but laugh, shrugging. “Maybe it’s a little bit about you.”
He hides his smile behind his hand, swearing under his breath. “Shit, okay.” He clears his throat before continuing. “I’m sorry for being so noisy these past few weeks. Do you think you could ever forgive me? Do people really get off on lines like this?” 
“Just keep reading it!” you yell at him, playfully kicking him beneath the table.
“Okay, okay! Ahem. I think I know exactly what I can do to make it up to you. I know you like me, even though I’m such an asshole. Think you can forgive me for just one night?”
You clench your thighs together, concealing the arousal growing between your legs. You’ve always thought he had a sexy voice but paired with the script and knowing what’s about to come, it’s hard to control your desires.
His voice is hushed now, low and sultry. “Yeah? That’s what I thought. You want this cock, don’t you?” Geto swallows thickly, pausing to catch his breath. “Been hungry for it this entire time, huh?” There’s a blush in his cheeks again. He shifts in his seat, hands down at his lap. “Well, go ahead. Come get it. Use me like you’ve always wanted to. Whoa, okay, this is…this is getting a little crazy now,” he chuckles nervously, avoiding your gaze. 
Unable to resist your curiosity, you glimpse at his crotch, an obvious bulge protruding from his sweatpants, stunned that he’s hard right now. Without thinking, you scoot closer to him, placing your hand on his knee. He meets your gaze, eyes wide, lips parted. 
“If you want to, we can stop,” you whisper, fingers trailing his inner thigh delicately. You can’t deny it any longer. You want him. You’ve always wanted him. And if he didn’t feel the same, he would have already been gone by now, too weirded out by your strange hobby to stick around. Yet, here he is, playing along with it, playing along with you. 
You wait for his answer, resting your hand dangerously near his erection strained in his pants. “I don’t want to stop,” he says, spreading his legs wider for you. “l want to be a good neighbor to you from now on. The very best.”
~~~
“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” he pants, stripping his clothes off hastily as you watch him, already naked on your bed. When he’s finished, he hovers over you, relishing the sight of you beneath him. 
You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down for a passionate kiss, tongues swirling around each other’s sloppily. “You’re sure you want to keep going?” you ask between smooches. 
He laughs, sucking on your bottom lip. “I’m not stopping this for anything. Are you sure you want to keep going?”
You nod at him, guiding his hands to your breasts. “Absolutely.”
He pinches your nipples until they’re perky and you’re whining in ecstasy, rutting your hips against him, desperate for friction. He slides down, leaving a trail of kisses along your body until he’s at your arousal, tongue lapping at your clit. You squeeze his head between your thighs, his mouth pressed firmly to your cunt, slurping at your juices. “Fuck, Geto. Feels so good.”
“Suguru,” he muffles, lips latched to your swelling bud. “Call me Suguru.”
You run your fingers through his hair as he eats you out, tugging at the strands when you reach your first orgasm, gushing all over his face. He licks you slowly as you come down from your high, flicking the tip of his tongue on your sensitive bud. He reaches down to stroke his cock, stiff in his fist and leaking with precum. “Fuck, you taste amazing. So fucking pretty when I eat out this sloppy cunt. Can I fuck you now, sweetheart? I want to make you come around my cock.”
You roll over in bed, spreading your ass cheeks for him. “Yeah, fuck me, Suguru. Fuck this wet cunt.”
He wipes the sweat beading on his forehead, jerking his cock feverishly in his other hand. “Fuck, I knew you were a slut, I just knew it,” he huffs, slapping his dick on your ass, rubbing it slowly between the soft flesh of your cheeks. He guides himself inside you, stretching you out little by little until you swallow him up completely. He starts thrusting, his motions extra smooth from your previous orgasm. “All those nights, I listened to you touch yourself with those vibrators. I’d stroke my cock with you, come whenever you did. Your little whimpers are so fucking sexy, especially when you try to hide them. You have no idea what you do to me.”
You’re too fucked out to process his confession, throwing your ass in tandem with his thrusts. His grip is tight on your waist, fucking you like you’ve never been fucked before. Suddenly, he pulls out, pussy fluttering around nothing, eager to be stuffed gain. You whine, craning your neck to glare at him while he gives you a naughty smirk, reaching for your nightstand. “Are they in here? Your toys?” He searches it blindly, retrieving one of your favorites, clicking the button to activate it, buzzing in his hold. “Use it while you use me.” 
You obey his request without question, holding the vibrator against your sensitive clit as he pushes himself back inside you, pounding away at your cunt. You climax twice more around him, completely spent now, brain like mush, letting the toy fall off the bed, slippery with your cum. He laughs at your docile expression, pulling out to bury his face back into your pussy, licking off all the cum smeared over you, determined to make you come again. When you do, he crawls up the bed, a satisfied smile on his face, straddling you while he pumps his cock in his fist. After a couple strokes, he shoots onto your tits, covering them in his pearly cum, moaning your name. 
He helps you clean it off, grabbing several tissues from the nightstand, wiping your chest dry. You scoot closer to the wall to make room for him, snuggling beside you with his mouth grazing your forehead, giving you a smooch. 
Thinking logically again, you recall his confession from earlier. “Can you really hear me through these walls?”
He chuckles. “Yeah. But only if I’m listening really carefully.”
“And did you really…?”
“Yeah. I did,” he admits, blushing. “Sorry. I guess I’m kind of a pervert.”
You giggle, nuzzling into his chest. “Well, what does that make me then? Who’s the one who wrote filthy scenarios about you?”
“I thought you said it was only inspired by me?” he teases, cuddling you closer. 
“It was totally about you, okay? I just never thought it’d actually happen.”
He massages your back lovingly. “Aren’t you glad it did?”
You peer up to smile at him. “Yeah. I am.”
~~~
The following weekend, there’s another noise complaint. This time, however, it’s you receiving it from your neighbor on the other side, complaining about how loud you and Geto are while having sex.  
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spookykoolkat · 6 months
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kinktober | the man in apartment 6a - j.m.
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kinktober day three - dumbification
pairing: older!joel miller x younger!plus size!reader
wc: 9.0k
summary: your older, grumpier yet handy neighbor can hear everything that goes on in the comfort of your pink four walled bedroom, simply because shitty apartment buildings made the walls so thin.
warnings: 18+ ONLY! minors are NEVER welcomed. pervy!joel, creepy!joel, older!joel, JOEL IS WARNING IN HIMSELF LOL, mentions of self loathing, uncomfortable sex (not with joel), marijuana use, alcohol use, fingering, oral (f receiving), manhandling, degradation (slight), creampie/breeding, pet names (sweet girl, sweetheart, pretty girl, baby, dumb, stupid, daddy), a little bit of ass eating (whoops), raw penetration (p in v) *wrap it up pls*, aftercare
reblogs, likes and comments are very very appreciated!
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IT WAS A FRIDAY NIGHT, work was tired, and you needed to take the edge off with a fat blunt and a full glass of wine. it was so quiet in the apartment complex you lived in that you might be the loudest one there, since three of your neighbors are older than 50. 
so after you poured your bottle of wine into a glass, you turned your led lights under your coffee table on and the bulbs that are in your two lamps beside your couch. it was such a colorful scenery, you loved smoking and drinking like this with music or a movie on in the background. making sure to not turn the volume up too loud, or else joel would come knocking on your door asking you to turn it down. 
joel was your neighbor in 6a and to you he always seemed like he had a thorn stuck in his ass cheek. he was a bitter old man who seemed like he hated fun, or maybe he just hated you. 
but you didn’t care much. nothing was going to stop you from being you, being bubbly and optimistic. it makes no sense to you to sit solemnly and think about every wrong turn you’ve ever made, and yet it seems that’s all joel does. 
he was always on edge, noticing the way he would flinch meeting you as the two of you locked your doors and headed off to work. you watched him from your window when he walked into the complex up the stairs, and noticed how he always had his jaw and fists clenched, head whipping in every direction before seemingly slipping inside his apartment and locking up. 
it made you curious as to what made him so tense, so frustrated and even paranoid. you wished you were someone he could go to, to release all of his ugly emotions and thoughts onto you. maybe you were being young and naive, having irrational sex daydreams as you gathered your paraphernalia to roll a blunt. It was delusional, yes you knew that, but you couldn’t help but fantasize about your neighbor.
but you wanted him in every way. you didn’t care he was twice your age, and you didn’t care that he was about as introverted and mean as they come. he’s a real asshole. to you, you felt you were allowed these fantasies given he’d never be the type of man that would want you. i mean, you were young enough to be his daughter, and you weren’t so sure that he even liked bigger women.
shaking your thoughts of him, you hummed along to whatever song that was on your halloween playlist playing loudly. soon after it’s rolled, you spark it up and take hits of it as you throw your body back on the couch.
you feel at ease as you listen to your playlist and smoke your blunt, enjoying peace for a day. your hair was still wet from the shower you took, and your blunt was barely starting to form a good cherry when three bangs hit your door over the music that startled you. 
you take a few more hits trying to get the most out of your blunt and ash it out quickly, yelling a choked out, i’m coming!!, over the music. you get up with your wine glass, walking barefoot to the door and opening it as your eyes meet a broad chest in a button up black and gray flannel, buttoned over a plain white t-shirt. 
joel.
“uh, hey. what’s up?” you say, setting your glass down on your door side table. 
“you told me your toilet wasn’t workin’? didya need me to take a look?” he asked as he unsubtly soaked in your attire. shit. you completely forgot your piece of shit toilet stopped flushing. 
you noticeably had no bra on, and your tank top was resting at the curve of your waist with one strap off of your shoulder, showing off your plush body and midriff. he could almost see the hardening of your nipples when you opened the door. 
“oh, right. i thought you meant you could do it like, monday.” you said, wishing to just relax tonight. he shook his head and looked back over your body, before meeting your eyes. 
“i’m busy monday. it’s now or never,” he bargained with a hard tone and you rolled your eyes.
“of course, right, sorry. come in.” you said and moved out of the way to step inside your girly apartment. you went to your coffee table to grab the remote and turn the volume down a little on your tv. 
“the restroom is-,” you start to say and go towards it until he cuts you off. 
“i know where it is. i’ll be done in a bit,” he said coldly and you pressed your lips into a thin line. he renovated these apartments dumbass. 
“alright.” you said and let him go to the back hall to find the restroom, and you released a breath. 
you felt like you looked messy, you just got out of the shower and had no bra on, and didn’t have panties on either. you were embarrassed. 
it was a free night for you and he had to barge in. of course. you decided to grab your wine and sit down on the couch, eyeing the blunt wishing you could be smoking it right now. instead you sip on your wine and scroll on your phone for maybe thirty minutes until he calls out for you. 
“coming!” you replied a little too cheery, and walked to the back rooms to see him on his hands and knees trying to reach under the toilet with his tools sprawled out on your pink bath rug. 
joel tried to hide the smile that grew when he heard your eager voice.
“yeah?” you asked and blushed at his image. he looked so sexy with his eyebrows furrowed, even sexier looking so manly in such a pink room. His dark colored clothes made an exciting difference in your bathroom. 
joel quickly scaled you over, from your bare feet with black toenails up to your week old shaven legs, up your wide thighs, to the fat of your tummy and the curves of your breasts. 
“you think i can have me a water bottle?” he asked, and you smiled, completely unaware he was thinking of bending you over the sink and making you watch yourself take all of him.
joel had a teensy crush on you the second he saw you at his doorstep. 
you mustered up the strength to knock on two doors to be greeted by two elderly ladies, and introduce yourself as their neighbors while giving them cookies you baked for them. 
you figured it was the best way to gain their trust and familiarity as you were going to be living here for a while. and while it worked on them, you weren’t so sure about your last neighbor. you were nervous. you hated socializing and to introduce yourself as the new person in the area, but the last door you knocked on was one that truly ruined your day. 
the door swung open ferociously to present a tall broad figure with tan skin, eyes tired and hair all ruffled. you could tell he just woke up, and you instantly regretted it. the force of the door opening made you feel a gust of wind, and chills. 
you were taught it was common courtesy to introduce yourself when you’re new somewhere, though it didn’t seem he was happy to see you at his doorstep all cheery and energized.
“uh, hi, i’m your neighbor in 6C, i just moved in and i just wanted to introduce myself,” you said and told him your name, with a small smile. he kind of just looked at you blankly, adjusting his eyes to your figure and face. 
“i, uh i made cookies for everyone so, i thought i’d bring them by cus i just like to bake and i thought maybe it’d be a peace offering... it’s okay if not i just wanted to be nice,” you rambled looking into his brown eyes as you held the plate covered in foil out with your hands. he looked between the plate, you and next to him to look at the clock on his doorway table.  
you were nervous, tapping your fingers on the plate and biting the inside of your cheek. he was so handsome. so manly. 
“you’re knockin at my door at eight thirty in the morning ona saturday to give me some cookies?” he asked, making sure what was happening was real. it was a little comical to him, only seeing shit like this in the movies. but to him, you were cute. he knew he didn’t carry southern hospitality and kindness like most, like you.
“you don’t have to take them. just tryna be nice,” you mumbled and pulled your arms back, your texan accent almost as thick as his. 
“Mmhmm, well i don’t need no cookies this mornin’,” he said surely. it kind of pissed you off honestly. 
“forget about it,” you said and turned your head down, moving to the door next to his and opening it right before mumbling, “asshole,” and slamming your door shut.
you were just so cute, so lively that he was drawn to you. it was odd because joel’s taste in women usually ranged, but he’d never been so drawn to a woman who seemed so eager to take on the world everyday. joel wasn’t used to seeing people so happy to leave the comfort of their homes to go into the city and interact with people, he wasn’t used to people making small talk as you fetch the mail at the same time. but that was you. 
he would just shake you off, mumble words to get you to stop being so cheerful and kind. he didn’t want you to waste your time on him, he didn’t deserve your kindness. you heard the small comments. 
“so damn pink,” 
“ya have to hum all the way down four flights of stairs?”
“you ever not dressed in glitter and ponies?” 
which he over exaggerated, you just liked pink. you would ignore the mean comments, and you would force yourself to remember that he is a man of cutting down trees and building houses with his bare hands. whatever you think is manly, he is. he wore nothing but dark colors, denim, work boots, and still had the iphone eight which seemed like it was forced on him. 
but this is the first time he spoke to you remotely nice, and asked you for anything. 
“yeah, uh do you want like, ice or just room temp?” you asked a bit embarrassed, wondering if that was a dumb question to ask. and a small, very small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth but it was so slight you almost gaslit yourself into seeing it. 
“don’t matter sweetheart, whatever ya wanna get me,” he said and went back to doing whatever it was he was doing. 
your tummy just fluttered at the small pet name as you pushed yourself off the door frame and moved to the kitchen.
never did you ever think you would hear a word like that come out of his mouth when referring to you.
you grabbed a water bottle and grabbed some ice chips with a scoop to pour it into a tall thermos. you took it straight to joel, and he faced you as you leaned down a bit to hand him the cup. from your stance, he could practically see down your shirt but only stole a small glance. 
you couldn’t notice, you were just excited to do something nice for him. 
“you need anything else?” you asked with your hands behind your back, your chest poking out a bit more and the light made it easy to see your nipples against the cloth. 
“nah, i got all i need, you can go relax.” he said and went back to work as you walked off. 
you wondered if there was a softness to his voice as you sat back down on the couch, turning your music up a little bit but not loud enough to get bitched at by joel. you figured he’d might be here for a bit given his outbursts of cursing because something wasn’t working with him, so you grabbed your blunt and lit it again. this was your apartment. 
joel was frustrated enough from the stupid toilet. a bolt kept untightening every time he tried to flush, and it pissed him off enough but kept him busy as he smelled the scent of strong weed filling his nose. he knew he smelled it when he walked in, but now he can smell the smoke and hear your muffled coughs every once and a while.
he was actually a bit surprised, for some reason you didn’t seem like the type to partake. he knows in his days he did, so he wasn’t judging you at all, it just didn’t seem like something a girl like you would do. you seemed so… behaved.
he ended up managing to find the bolt he was looking for because it fell somewhere and skidded across the restroom floor. 
joel didn’t mind working on things for the neighbors in his complex, he was really the only one that was able to fix almost everything in sight. he was never bothered by it either, in the back of his mind he wanted to feel like he was needed. like he could do some type of good for people even if he was closed off and cold. his hands were godsend, and in many ways. 
but he’d always see things maybe the resident wouldn’t want him to see, like a box of condoms or a sex toy. it didn’t bother him, he’d just ignore it.
but here he was, still and frozen as he finally found the bolt laying on a pair of red panties that were laid on your floor like you just had these on. and you did. 
you managed to get all of your clothes in the hamper except the pair of panties you had on, you actually thought maybe it was in the tangles of your clothes. but no. there they were, and he was on his way to losing his mind. he couldn’t move, he just stared at the red high cut panties that even had a black bow on the trim. 
he couldn’t stop himself. before he knew it, he grabbed your underwear and almost inspected them quickly before taking them, pushing the fabric into his nose and breathing in your musk, and folding them to put in his back pocket. he felt drunk on you already. he knew it was wrong, he knew he was probably a sick man. but he needed something from you, anything. 
the opportunity showed itself, he just took it. 
now, he still smelled you lingering on his nose, and imagined what your pussy looked like puffy and red for him. he wanted to fill you up completely and fuck you until you were sore and throbbing, he wanted to see those cute little glossy lips of yours kissing the tip of his cock and taking it in your throat like a fleshlight. 
you were just perfect. so much for him to grab, kiss, and mark. he wanted your eyes to watch him devour you whole, and he craved to watch you break for him.
he knew he was a creep. he didn’t care. joel never acted on his desires and his pervy ways, until now, when really he wanted to do it all. whenever you came out to the mailboxes the same time as he did, he wanted to get his phone and sneak pictures of you, under your skirts more specifically. 
he was thinking of if you’ve ever fucked yourself here in this very restroom he’s crouched in, thinking of the way your leg would lift to rest on some vantage point, fingering your hole until you fought to stand upright again. he imagined you walking in a little white towel back to your room, drying off and getting dressed in front of him. his cock was throbbing at the image, pairing it with the image of the red panties he stole. 
he couldn’t work like this, not thinking of all of the ways he wanted to make you whine, make you squirm, make you cum. 
he finally managed to fix the problem after 30 minutes and flushing once to test, smiling at his success. it was always satisfying seeing something broken be fixed, he was a problem solver, he loved the challenge. he cleaned up his area and picked up his tools, putting them in the bag and fixing himself before he washed his hands and wiped them down with a towel, leaving the restroom to see you puffing a small roach of your blunt. 
“y’know you shouldn’t be smokin in here,” he said and you jumped a bit, exhaling the last bit of smoke and ashing it out in your ashtray. you just looked at him with a small smile, but realizing this is your apartment. he can’t tell you what to do. 
“oh, well i mean, i thought… i mean it’s my apartment, so,” you said as you blushed, feeling like you’re in trouble now. 
“don’t worry yourself, darlin’. i ain’t gonna tell on you,” he suggested and you blushed, somehow even more. 
“would you want like, a drink? the least i can do,” you said as you grabbed a dos equis from your fridge and walked up to him, handing it to him. he was hesitant at first, really in deep thought about whether he should accept this or not. was it opening a door? he hoped so. 
“thanks,” he said and took it from you, not looking at the green bottle at all. he put his tools down on the small table you had in your kitchen and followed you to sit on the loveseat on the right side of the living room. 
“it’s joel by the way, no one calls me mr. miller,” he said as he took a swig. you nodded and responded ohh, moving to drink more of your wine. you ended up changing your music to a horror movie and kept your eyes trained on that instead of his eyes. you felt him watching you, every breath you took, every blink, every lip bite. 
“so who lived here before me?” you asked to break the silence, looking to him from the movie. his eyes were already on you, you just met them. you figured you’d make some sort of conversation if he was going to sit there and drink a beer. who drinks together silently? 
“nother’ older lady, she was a good neighbor,” he trailed and drank from his beer. you quirked your eyebrows, drinking from the wine glass and keeping it by your side. 
“am i not a good neighbor?” you asked sweetly, genuinely curious. he refrained himself from getting up from his seat and showing how good of a neighbor you really were to him. 
“you are, just a little loud from time to time.” he admitted, more so talking about your unsatisfying experiences with the men you bring him. 
“am i? i’m sorry, i’ll try to keep it down,” you said softly, almost embarrassed and you looked at your fingers tapping on the rim of the wine glass. 
“s’alright, it ain’t too distracting.” he lied. of course it was distracting. he was begging to know what you sounded like when you were really enjoying yourself, how you looked under him and on top of him. how he imagined you in his room instead. 
“still, i don’t wanna be that neighbor that’s annoying,” you said and looked back up at him to where he’s sitting. “i feel like you hate me.” you finished. 
he doesn't blame you. he doesn't make it easy for people to know him, or make a nice impression firsthand. he kind of feels bad for making you feel like that. but he was just not that friendly honestly, not that nice and not that comforting. at least he felt he was. he didn’t know how to be. 
“it’s nothin’ personal,” he said and drank from his bottle again, letting his eyes trail over your body. you felt it, hell you saw it, and you still squirmed. 
“i prefer to be by myself.” he said and you nodded, but he was still watching you. 
“i see. i understand now, sorry for imposing most of the time.” you say with an apologetic smile, and he kind of smiled. it shocked you really to see any emotion other than anger and discomfort displayed on his face.
“you don’t bother me, not one bit.” he said to reassure you, but he wanted you to know you did far more than “bothering” him. you just smiled, blushing a bit at his confession.
“so is it just you living here?” you asked and saw his face look a little pained, and again you regret opening your mouth. 
“uh, no actually. i have a sixteen year old i sort of adopted. just me and my daughter.” he said and you were a little shocked. how did you never manage to see her? or hear her?
“she goes on her own a lot, friends places, parties. i know she can handle herself so, she has my number if anything happens.” he answered your internal questions. 
“that’s really sweet. i wished my parents did that. i kind of had to move away from them’ after i graduated. m’ not really on speaking’ terms with any of my family.” you admitted a little sadly, even though he didn’t ask.  you seemed as though you could talk for hours if no one shut you up. 
“i’m sorry to hear that,darlin’,” he said and continued to drink his beer until he finished it. 
“it’s fine, i’m a lot happier now than i was before.” you said with a small smile, and drank from your wine glass. joel was glad you took the attention off of him and his daughter, not asking any questions about his situation. he appreciated it. 
he just nodded, finishing his beer as you finished your wine and suddenly you were nervous. again. it was just you and him, in this colorfully lit room. you looked at him as he got up, and walked to the kitchen to grab his tools. no no wait wait you can’t leave, not yet. 
“thank ya for the hospitality, i should go,” he said coldly and you almost scrambled to your feet to step in front of him. 
“um, wait uh,” you tried to think of an excuse. anything. something to keep him here a little longer. he looked down at you, how flustered you were, how you looked like you were trying to come up with an excuse. you really even didn’t think it through, you were just acting on the pulsing in your shorts.
but suddenly, you got a bit insecure. you didn’t know joel’s type, and you wondered what the outcome would be of throwing yourself at him. 
“yeah?” he asked and tilted his head, curious as to what you had to say. truth is, he didn’t wanna leave either. how could he wanna leave when you looked so desirable right now? he couldn’t even feel bad that he was practically 20 years older than you, he wanted to ruin you. 
“um, nothing, m’ sorry.” you said. you admitted defeat. there was nothing you could’ve said or done to make him stay, at least that's what you thought. 
“have a good night,” you said and he repeated it to you. you walked him out, shutting the door behind him. 
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joel was still awake after his shower. not by choice. he was laying in his bed, checking the time on his clock that flashes at 2:30am, and back at the wall that connects the two of you. were you seriously this unaware at how loud you were? 
he was thanking god that ellie wasn’t home, so she wouldn’t be hearing any of this either. but he was also wondering if you were even enjoying yourself in the first place. 
after joel left, you felt this aching feeling that you couldn’t satisfy yourself so you just called a friend over. one that you really don’t know, and you don’t care about, but one that wanted to have sex with you just as bad as you wanted to have sex with joel. 
one thing led to another and there you are once again, laying in bed as this guy poorly ate you out and uncomfortably fingered you. it just didn’t feel right, and at this point you were hoping he was done. your fake moans rang through the apartment again, wondering if you were over or under selling it. to the lanky guy between your legs, you were selling it just fine. 
you even tried thinking of joel being the one sliding into you as this guy did, but you doubted he'd be this painfully terrible at sex. it didn’t feel enjoyable, it just felt like blindly jabbing at your cervix. not even 10 minutes later, that man is out your door and you're back in bed, feeling miserable with yourself. 
you wanted for once to have a good sexual encounter, constantly feeling ugly and used. these men didn’t even care about you and didn’t care if you were satisfied, and you hated yourself for it. the physical intimacy you wanted seemed like it was something you wouldn’t be able to find. 
you craved a man’s touch even if you hated it or not, maybe blaming it on your daddy issues or just blaming the fact that you looked for the wrong things in the wrong thing. you wanted comfort and protection and looked for it in sex. 
you wanted joel. you wanted him since you moved in despite him being a dick. you wanted to know how it felt to be protected by him, to be held by him, to be wanted by him. and you wanted it so bad, you started crying. loudly, at that. 
in the moment, joel felt like he was imposing on your privacy. he felt bad listening to your muffled cries like this, and he wanted to do everything he could to help you. he knew so little about your family situation, but to him you had no family. he never saw you with friends, he only saw you with a new man every week. he wanted to comfort you, to show you that he and you were more alike than you thought.
he heard it stop for about twenty minutes all of the sudden, and then something bump into the wall he was staring at. then, it started again.  
you just laid there after your shower, now softly crying and sniffling as you heard a soft knocking on your front door. you got a little scared, so you wiped your tears fast and slipped on the shorts you had on to go open your door. it was dark in the main room, only a small orange lighting shining in front of your windows. you even noticed finally that it was actually pouring rain outside.
“who is it?” you said a little loudly, too nervous to peek through the hole. you fiddled with your polished black nails before the person answered. 
“it’s joel,” he said and you paused. 
“joel?” you asked. 
 you quickly unlocked your door to open it enough to peek your head out. 
“what are you doing here?” you asked, looking up at him. you scanned over his attire, now barefoot and in a simple black shirt and pajama pants. his head was whipping right and left, seeing if anyone else was in the hall to see him. 
now, he was the one that was nervous. what was he doing here? what did he think was going to happen? if he played it right, everything he ever wanted. 
“can i come in?” he asks, rubbing the back of his neck and you gulp, opening the door wider to allow his broad figure in your home. your eyes were trained down, refusing to let him look at you. 
“can i get you something? water?” you asked, still not facing him and turning a lamp on next to your couch and moving past him until he grabs your wrist firmly. you still, and you have no choice but to look at him with your bloodshot eyes. 
“i can hear, y’know,” he said, paying attention to your tear stained face as you slowly looked up to him. 
“hear? hear what?” you said unknowingly. 
“everything. i can hear the guys you bring home, i can hear you moanin’, i can hear you cryin’,” he said, pulling you closer to him. by now you were almost to his chest as he grabbed your other wrist and held you tight. 
“i-,” you began but you felt humiliated. you didn’t realize he could really hear everything, that he heard everything that transpired in your room tonight. 
“did he make you cry?” he asked grimly, his eyes dark and his stare serious.
he wasn’t squeezing hard enough to hurt you, your breath just caught in your throat because you were nervous. nervous to admit to anything. 
“no, he didn’t, he didn’t do anything to me,” you said and looked down at his hands gripping your flesh. 
“it doesn’t matter. i’m just really sorry, i didn’t know that’s what you meant earlier. i’m sorry it won’t happen again.” you apologized with tears in your eyes. the guy who you fucked wasn’t even worth all of this embarrassment that flooded you. 
“then why’re you cryin, sweet girl?” he asked, moving his hand to your chin so you can look up at him. 
“i, it’s nothing, i’m sorry for waking you up,” you said and blinked your tears away, your hands falling to your side when he released you. you just stood there though, his hand on your cheek while his thumb rubbed circles into your face. 
“it ain’t nothin. he wasn’t makin’ you feel good? made you feel bad?” his southern accent was thick in this tone, but for some reason you felt at ease. better now that he was here. 
“he made me feel bad,” you were too nervous to lie, he already heard you through the wall. 
“i know, baby, i know,” he said. you really couldn’t move, the words coming from his mouth were insane to you. you couldn’t fathom the fact that he was talking like this, to you. his hands slid to grip your hips, to feel the way they curve into your waist, resting at the small of your back so that now you’re pressed against his body. 
“i never hated ya,” he said, his face getting closer to yours to where you could feel his breath on your lips. while your breathing was faltered and shaky, his was calm and collected. he wasn’t nervous anymore, he was determined. 
“actually, i think i like you more than i’d like t’ admit,” he whispered, moving his lips to your ear and your neck. 
“what are you talkin’ about?” you breathed. your arms just went slack, you didn’t know what to do with them, if you should finally touch him and feel his hard chest, feel his body the way he feels yours, or if you just want to accept that this is a dream. 
you finally move your hands to his waist and grip tightly onto his shirt, almost like if you let go you’ll fall. 
“i know you feel the same, darlin’. i can hear you, remember? i can hear you callin’ for me, moanin’ for me when you touch yourself.” your breath shook slightly and he smiled against your neck, moving his hands up your back. 
and the only thing you can say, that your brain can think of, is to apologize. 
“none of that, don’t do that. tell me sweetheart, do ya want me to make you feel good?” he asked, and you pulled his body closer to yours. 
“do, um, do you want to do that?” you were so unsure of all this. did he truly like you? did he truly find you attractive? you never failed to question men’s sincerity, was this just for pleasure or was this emotional? 
“my sweet baby, if i ever say no to you like that, i’ve gone fuckin’ senile,” he groaned against your neck. 
“y’know how many times i've thought about being between these legs of yours?” there was nothing else that could’ve made you as wet as you were right now, you heard the roughness of his texas accent, the lust mixing with desire. he wanted nothing but you. 
“been wantin’ t’ ruin those little skirts you wear. jus’ wanna watch you fall apart on my cock,” your eyes widened and you felt a pool of arousal coat your cunt. you’d never been talked to like this, the crudeness of his words sliced whatever tension there was, and you gave in.
his lips moved down your neck and to your chest as you pant against him, your body pressed into a wall near the hallway that leads to your bedroom and restroom. he pressed against you enough so you could feel the hardening bulge on your thigh and he could feel the softness of your breasts pushed into him. while kissing your neck and shoulder, he moved your hand to feel his hardness while grunting a bit into your skin. 
“you feel what ya do to me? you see how i get for ya?” he asked, and you whimpered a bit feeling how large he really was through his pajama pants. he pulled away from you a bit and looked down at his hand on top of yours, your own hand voluntarily softly massaging his cock. 
“fuck, sweetheart, you know,” he cooed, smoothing your hair down and grabbing the nape of your neck to crane it back, “you know exactly what that pretty face does to me,” 
he tilted your head to look at him, to be close enough to his face to feel his breath on your face. 
“tell me you want me, honey,” he said sweetly, looking between your eyes and your lips. you just kept your eyes on his while he examined you. 
“i, i want you,” you said in a whisper and blushed. joel smiled to himself, another smile you’d never seen, and slid down against your body and grabbed the back of your thighs, urging you to jump and instinctively you did. 
only he made you forget you were three times the size of a skinny woman. 
“joel, wait i’m too heavy for this wait,” you said but he stayed put, didn’t move, didn’t talk. he just stared at you. 
“ain’t no such thing as too heavy, princess, i’ll still pick you up and fuck you stupid,” he assured, playfully tapping your ass as he carried you all the way to your room, laying you on your back. you swore he could feel the pulsing of your cunt against his abdomen. 
he brought you to your room, dark and quiet with the help of your small lamp illuminating your face as he laid you down on your back, falling with you. 
“gonna let me see you, baby? let me see all of this,” he said lowly, crawling to straddle you and put his hands on your tummy, groping and massaging. 
“i-,” you said, out of breath already and joel smirked. he was loving you like this. so dumb and innocent for him. 
“you’re jus’ the sweetest little thing, baby,” he said as his eyes roamed your body. “gotta use your words, baby, let me hear that pretty voice, tell me what you want,” he said again. 
“touch me, anywhere, p-please,” you whimpered out enough and he hummed in satisfaction. 
his fingers creeped up your stomach, leaving a burn with their trail and acted like he was going to help you out of it, but instead he bends down and grips the center of your tank top with two hands and careful to not hurt you, but fast and swift, he rips the weak cloth in half. 
“what, joel oh-” you said and joel’s fingers wrapped around your throat with no pressure, and held you in place as his eyes trailed over your body again, his other hand roughly moved the two halves of your tank to either side. 
“what did he do that you didn’t like, baby?” he asked you as he stayed on top, playing with your breasts by squeezing and pushing them together, only thinking impurely about you. 
you couldn’t think of anything as he felt you up as he pleased, his calloused hands rubbing your smooth skin, tugging and pinching your nipples to watch them harden and extend just for him. 
“just,” 
“he, ugh,” 
he laughs. “can’t even talk while i play with these pretty titties? goin’ dumb already baby?” 
“mmmph,” you couldn’t muster any words. it was a new feeling, feeling lightheaded and only drunk off of joel. 
“please, fuck me,” you whimpered, moving your hands to play with his waistband and try to tug at it. but he stopped you quickly, never letting you even grab a hold of the fabric when he grabs your wrists. 
“need you to tell me exactly what you want, can you do that?” he asked you and you whined, squirming with his hands still locking you in place. 
you looked up at him, his eyes only on yours and his cock straining against his pajama pants. “fingers,” 
it’s all you mustered and he accepted it, moving down a little to move his fingers down into your panties and spreading your legs with his. his fingers immediately felt heat when he spread your cunt and moved down to your hole, teasing and prodding in your arousal. 
“baby’s so wet for me, yeah? you ever thought about me, honey?” he asked you as he looked between you and where his fingers hid in your shorts, waiting for an answer. you were a whimpering mess, soft breaths and pants falling from your lips with every touch. 
“mhm,” you mustered, clenching your eyes shut when his middle finger circled your hole and pushed his palm against your clit, “always wanted you,” 
if you weren’t so dizzy, you probably would’ve scorned yourself for saying that. but he was amused, moving his scruffy cheek to glide against yours and leave kissing on your neck. 
“thought about you too, pretty girl. just so damn cute all the fuckin’ time, couldn’t stop thinkin’ about how you’d look taking my cock,” you whined at his words, trying to shut your legs to stop the pressure but he just shook his head and pried them apart. your hands were tight on his wrist, begging him to let up as he fucks you with two fingers and uses your slick to rub circles over your clit. 
“r-really?” you asked through choked moans, your body lifting up to watch him finger you. he chuckled softly, “yeah, sweetheart. can’t stop thinkin’ about ya,” 
he pauses before taking your shorts and panties off quickly, spreading your legs further and throwing them over his own spread thighs you went back to gripping at your sheets, your body responding to every touch as he spread your cunt even more and spit on it. 
“you want me to fuck this pretty hole, baby?” he asked, watching your slick cover his hand as he curled his fingers inside of you. you were a mess, incoherent, making sounds and guttural noises as he brought you closer to your edge. all you could do was nod erratically and try to close your legs. 
“i’m gonna need you to cum for me then, sweetheart. needa’ see this little cunt cum for me,” he growled, his other hand pulling his pajama pants down, easily taking them off. 
“i, i-,” you choked, your chest tight as you watched him abuse your pussy and watched as his eyes flashed quickly. he managed to lift your lower half up in the air by your ass cheeks, bringing your core to his mouth and pulling you closer to him so he could taste you. 
“daddy,” you moaned as he pulled away with a harsh breath. 
“‘s that right? that’s what you like, baby? want daddy to make you feel real good? go fuckin’ stupid on my cock?” he taunted, his words making your stomach flutter and your clit throb. 
you whimpered a small yes, but you couldn’t think. you’d say yes to anything he offered. you’d take anything he gave you. he didn’t even have to ask, you wanted him to give you anything he wanted. he went back to lapping at your cunt, slurping up any of your juices that ran down your crack, licking at your unused hole that puckered for him. 
it was a new feeling, something no one had done but the way he lapped at both holes made your orgasm build ten times faster, and soon you felt it creeping down your shoulders and sending a cold chill down to your toes. it was blinding, the noises you made were yelps and gasps as if the air had been knocked out of you. 
your entire body shook within his grasp and his mouth never let go of your overstimulated bud, sending more of your juices to leak out of you nonstop. joel wasted no time to lick you all up and manage to strip naked, watching your body go through aftershocks of your orgasm and smiling. 
“pretty girl, such a fuckin’ pretty girl,” he cooed, crawling between your legs again and grabbing you by your waist, flipping you onto tour tummy and chest as he helps you move to steady yourself on your knees. 
“you’d let me do whatever i want to ya, ain’t that right princess?” his voice was like velvet, making you feel warm all over as you pushed your ass into his groin. you whimpered as you felt his hardness against your cunt and you wiggled your hips, making joel laugh a little and slap your ass. 
“so eager too, huh?” all you could do was nod into the pillow, using your forearms to fold under it and hold your head up. the arch in your back was exaggerated, but you wanted him to be able to get the best leverage on you. 
he gripped your hips tight like you were going to leave him, and spread your asscheeks to see both holes shining for him. 
“tell me you want me, can you do that for me?” he asked condescendingly and you hummed, drunk off him grabbing your ass to pull your cheeks apart and watch as they jiggle. 
“i want you,” you muffled, your voice not sounding recognizable. it was hoarse, from moaning and crying and was about to get even more raspy. 
“good girl, you tell me if you want me to stop yeah?” 
“no! please,” you clung onto whatever he was giving you, “i want it, all of it, please,” you cried for him. 
he spits down on your asshole and watches it slip down to your cunt, and he positioned himself at your hole as he keeps your ass spread apart for him. 
“so fuckin’ messy, such a sweet cunt for me,” he moaned as he pushed the head of his cock inside, making you whimper at the small stretch. you didn’t think he could stretch you anymore, until he sunk deeper into your hole and made you start gasping for air. 
“what baby? is it too much? can’t take daddy’s cock?” he taunted behind you as your weak arms went from under the pillow to trying to push his thighs back. unfortunately with your strength, it was no use and only gave him incentive to pin both your arms behind your back, right where your back arched. 
you could feel your drool leaking onto the pillow as he slid slowly into you, not stopping until you felt his balls hit against your cunt. your legs were already trembling from his sheer size, making joel put one hand on the fat of your hip to steady you and one hand on your wrists. 
he started to pull out again, just to slide back in and repeat the movement as he slowly started to speed up the pace. you could hear faint groaning and the sound of your slick gathering on his cock, the wetness being the only noise that was distinct. 
it was pain and pleasure balled into one as he kept gliding in and out of you, feeling your walls tighten and release around him the faster he went. you felt each thrust make your body lurch forward, pushing your face into the pillow as he kept his relentlessness up. 
“oh, baby you feel so fuckin’ good, so good for me,” he groaned. he grabbed both your wrists with his hands and yanked your body up off the mattress so that your breasts are exposed for him. he takes advantage of the space between you and bed, and pulls you even further up to press you against his chest. 
“keep makin’ those pretty sounds for me, makes me wanna ruin this little pussy even more,” he grinned against your shoulder as he wrapped his arms around your waist, and you threw your arms back to grab onto his hair and head. you needed something to balance yourself now that you were standing on your knees, and being fucked into like you weighed absolutely nothing. 
“d-, fuck, i can’t,” you choked through a loud moan, one that made joel grunt as he fucked into you harder. he wasn’t doing small strokes, he was pulling out almost all the way and slamming back into you in a way that sent pain to your cervix, but pressure on your clit begging to be released. 
“can’t what princess? can’t think? i know baby, gettin’ fucked so good you can’t even talk,” he chuckled, moving his hand to grab at your breast and knead your flesh. his hands molded onto your body like they were made to fit you, but all your mind could focus on was the sound of his skin slapping against yours. 
joel knew you were going dumb already, not expecting answers from you as that would just be cruel. he wanted to make you feel good, and the way your spit covered your chin and your mouth fell open but hardly any noise was making its way out, he knew he was doing a damn good job. 
“hear that, baby? such a fuckin’ pretty mess, you like soakin’ my cock like that? so damn wet, so fuckin’ tight,” you couldn’t get enough of his words when he plucked at your nipple, teasing and pinching to get you closer and closer. 
“s-so big, m’ so full,” you cried and he smiled again, holding you closer than ever as he wallowed in your voice. 
“my baby’s full of me, full of my cock,” he repeated, never slowing down as he pulled out just to push all of him back into you at once. he was in love with how you felt, he even felt like he was losing his train of thought at you let out deep moans that made his cock jerk inside of you. 
“‘s okay baby, you look so cute all fucked out like this, can’t even fuckin’ breathe can ya?” he asked and you shook your head no, reminding yourself to unclench your chest so you could let in a good breath. he heard it, and rubbed up your chest to grip your throat, which elicited a harsh whimper. 
his other hand traveled down your body, past your larger stomach and reached down to your cunt. he used the slick between your lips after stuffing them in your mouth and started to rub circles over your nub, making you squirm and wiggle against his body. 
“uhn-uh, thought you liked takin’ my cock like a slut? take it, baby.” you couldn’t even move if you wanted to, wanting to fuck back on his cock and meet his thrusts. you were almost empty headed, words sounding like words but not being able to form them yourself. 
“there you go, take it all baby it’s yours,” he repeated as he watched you grab onto his arm that held you by the neck and let him ravage you like no other. he was the animal, and you were his prey. 
the feeling of his thick cock ramming you, splitting you open while he fingers worked your clit makes you throw your head back on his shoulder and shut your eyes strongly. it was blinding, the pleasure you felt that he inflicted, and you felt yourself clenching your entire body as your orgasm reached its peak. it’s all you focused on. his hands grabbing you everywhere, soaking you in as he pushed your thick body into his chest and managed to lay on his back. he let our body fall onto his and held you up like that, his hands spreading your legs as you tried to sit up on your hands. 
you couldn’t, of course, couldn’t even think about how he changed positions so quickly, or if you were too heavy for him. your body was limp as he held you open, his thrusts becoming harsher and faster as he fucked into you. 
“m gonna, j-joel, gonna cum, gonna cum, m’ gonna cum,” you chanted in a strained whine, one that sounded needy for him. one of his hands lets go of your leg and rests his palm on your forehead, pulling you back to his shoulder so he can kiss along your jaw and neck. 
“cum for me baby, such a dumb fuckin' slut, taking my cock like you were made f’ it,” he was so insulting, so degrading, but the feeling of losing your autonomy so he can fuck you like you deserved made it even sexier for you. you didn’t know your neighbor felt this way for you, that he’d been wanting to feel you and have you like this. it was exhilarating and when you finally let go, when the ringing in your ears started and every muscle in your body tightened just to go slack again, you realized how much you’d been missing. 
you’d never been fucked to the point of silence, nothing but quiet moans and strained breathing falling out of your lips because you couldn’t think, and as joel holds you by wrapping an arm around the thickness of your tummy and letting you close your legs to alleviate the intensity, he whispers nothing but dirty things in your ear. the shaking never stopped, even as joel started to reach his peak. 
“such a pretty girl,”
“love watchin’ you go dumb on my cock,” 
“gonna fill this cunt with my cum, ya want that sweetheart?”
“can’t even talk, such a dirty fuckin’ whore,”
you were mumbling, blabbering, making noises that couldn’t even be registered as noises as his hips slammed against your ass lazily. you feel it the minute he empties inside of you because he holds you even closer than before, stilling your moving hips and you feel the heat of the white ropes that cover your walls. it was so dirty, so messy, so filthy that you wouldn’t be surprised if you were embarrassed after this. you were still mindlessly groaning, humming as your orgasm buzzed through your body and the feeling of his cum trying to push its way out. 
you both lay there, breathless, sticky and with joel still buried inside of you.
“i have… i have to get off,” you breathed out, coming back to the sense of reality. the air in your room felt cold, pricking at your skin like needles. the sweat didn’t help either. 
“no ya don’t,” he said, only to hold you tighter. 
“joel, i’m like crushing you,” you tried to wiggle out of his grasp and he just gave a quick slap to your cunt, making you jolt and still. 
“don’t be ridiculous, ya need me to show you exactly how strong i am or are ya gonna take my word for it?” he warned and you swallowed, blinking at the ceiling before you turn your head to look at the side of his face before he turns his head to look at you. still, the back of your head rested on his shoulder and your legs were between his.
“i can’t even move, joel,” you said in a smile and he laughed, leaning in to kiss your forehead and over your face. 
“i’ll help ya with that.” 
joel proved once again that he was strong enough to pick you up, because he carried you bridal style to the restroom and got a bath ready for you, joining in to help clean you up and massage your muscles. you were dazed, so entirely fucked out that you let him do whatever he needed to do with you to get you into bed. and he didn’t seem to mind, because after taking care of you he got to snuggle in the same bed he made you drool in. 
he let you cuddle into him all you wanted, wrapping your arms and legs around him to bury your face in the shirt he put on. even though it was your bedsheets and your body wash he used, he still smelled like joel. and it was all you needed, ironically the man you longed for to make you feel good was the man who stayed in 6a.
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The Rain is Always Gonna Come if You're Standing With Me | Bucky Barnes x Reader
Hi, friends. This one took me approximately 100 years to finish because school is eating me alive. This one is based on Peace from folklore, which is an underrated song, in my opinion.
Word count: 12.3k
Warnings: Bucky's negative self image, harassment, slight reader injury, people being assholes
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"But I'm a fire, and I'll keep your brittle heart warm If your cascade ocean wave blues come All these people think love's for show But I would die for you in secret The devil's in the details, but you got a friend in me Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?"
“Oh, you don’t have to do that, doll-” Bucky said as you swiped the dirty dishes from the table. He made a grab for them, but his enhanced speed was no match for you. You expertly evaded his capture, slipping away from his grasp with almost no effort. You knew him too well, knew his movement patterns and habits. Anticipating his every move was easy. With a cocky laugh, you turned on your heel and headed for the sink. 
“Sweetheart, really,” he called after you, “I’ll clean up.”
“But you made breakfast.” You set the two bowls that once held yogurt, fruit, and granola in the sink and turned on the water. “It’s only fair that I do the dishes.”
Bucky rolled his eyes and gave a laugh, “that wasn’t breakfast, baby. It was just a… a morning snack.” In only a few long strides, he met you at the sink. His large hands snatched yours and pulled them to his broad chest, halting your efforts to clean.
You cocked your head to the side, “A morning snack, huh?”
“Yeah. I mean, I know we’re going out for breakfast, but I didn’t want you to be hungry.” He added a fraction of extra pressure to your hands, pulling them closer against his body. “I gotta take care of my girl.”
“Well, that’s very thoughtful of you,” you placed a quick peck to his lips. “And because you are so thoughtful and sweet, let me do the dishes.” With a playful tug, you tried to free your hands from his grasp. But Bucky held firm. 
He shook his head, “Nope. Not gonna happen.” Suddenly, he released your hands, spun you around, and landed a light slap to your ass; it happened so fast it left you giggling. “You go get dressed, I’ll take care of it.”
Your giggly “sir, yes, sir” floated down the hall as you marched toward the bedroom. This was to be the perfect day. A trip to your favorite bookstore, followed by what you swore was the best chicken and waffles the city had to offer. After breakfast, the two of you were set to visit the new shark exhibit at the science museum, eat lunch in the park, and grab an ice cream from your favorite spot. 
Bucky planned it all out, ensuring a flawless blueprint. And while you appreciated his attention to detail, you would’ve been happy with a day at home. All you wanted- all you needed- was to spend time with him. 
And time with Bucky was lacking as of late.
He stood at the sink, drying the now clean dishes as emotion overcame him. He couldn’t believe he was here- home- with you. He waited for this day. He hungered and ached for a day without danger, without bloodshed. He waited for a day spent with you. And only you. 
He’d just been so busy lately- too busy. Over the past few months, he’d been dragged around the world more times than he could count. His missions only seemed to grow longer. And each time he got the call from Hill, she sent him farther and farther away. 
He found himself struggling under the weight of severe, mind-numbing exhaustion. Anxiety. His body threatened to give out with each new wound he received, each drop of blood he lost. But he didn’t mind the constant paint or fatigue. What upset him most was spending so much time away from you.
The two of you lived together now. You shared an address, a roof, a bedroom. The universe somehow allowed Bucky to have a home- a safe, comfortable home- with the person he loved most. But he’d spent so little time there lately that he feared it wasn’t his anymore. That he had no claim to the space. He always felt like a mere passerby upon arriving home, like more of a wanderer than a resident. He always had to stop himself from knocking, had to force himself to use his key. 
But who was he to waltz through the front door after being gone for so long? Who was he to act like he owned the place? He thought maybe he didn’t deserve it, this home you shared. And he knew he didn’t deserve you.  
Over the past few months, he spent only a handful of nights at home while you held down the fort. You kept things together. He missed out on so much of your life; what if you didn’t want him to be a part of it anymore?
When Bucky did come home, he always showed up in the middle of the night. Sore. Exhausted. He’d drag his body into the bed you shared and pass out before he even got the chance to pull you close. He’d sleep late, his body too fatigued to wake before the afternoon. When he finally stirred, the two of you did your best to catch up. He wanted to hear every detail of your life, and you his. But without fail, the emotion won. You’d cry together, wrapped in the other’s arms, whispering “I love yous” over and over. 
And without fail, some world ending threat would interrupt. Danger always found a way to force the two of you apart, isolating you from one another. And only twenty-four hours after arriving home, Bucky would leave. Again. 
But over the last few weeks, things started quieting down. It was slow at first. Subtle. But Bucky sensed a shift in the air. He could almost feel the world settling. At first, he thought he’d lost his mind. But Sam, too, felt the earth calming. As did Hill. Whatever sweeping, overwhelming chaos that sent the entire planet into disaster so many months ago seemed to finally lose steam. Fewer calls came in, fewer alerts woke Bucky in the middle of the night. 
And three nights ago, Bucky came home for good. 
The adrenaline that kept him going for so long evaporated as soon as he made it through the front door. The anxiety melted from his body. It was the only thing, he realized, that kept him upright. And with it gone, his body gave out. He crumbled and collapsed to the floor as sweet relief flooded his every cell. He didn’t care that he was hurt, that he was worn out; he was just happy to be home.
But a sharp shriek flooded his system with fear once again. 
You stood frozen in the doorway of your bedroom, just a few feet away, with your hands clasped over your mouth. Tears welled in your eyes. Your chest rose and fell as sharp breaths dragged into your lungs. The sight of his limp body sent you jumping to the worst, most tragic conclusions. 
“No, I’m- I’m okay, baby.”  With great effort, Bucky pulled himself to his feet. 
It was then that you snapped out of your horrified trance. You rushed to Bucky’s side, throwing your arms around his neck, and pressing your body to his. You needed to be as close to him as possible, needed your souls to touch. His arms wound around you and pulled you closer still, desperate for you.
“You’re okay…” you whispered against his neck. It wasn’t a question, but an affirmation.
“I’m okay,” he said. “I’m home.” 
That night, after he took a shower and let you clean his wounds, he planned this perfect day. And though you told him it wasn’t necessary, he wanted to make things up to you. He wanted to apologize for being gone so long. For breaking your heart over and over and over again. For disappearing. 
He knew how his absences affected you. Knew you worried about him constantly when he was gone. He noticed the way you bit your nails down to the quick. How you picked at your cuticles till they bled. Your tired eyes looked bloodshot, and your bottom lip chewed raw. He knew your anxiety gave you stomach pain and headaches. Knew that you could barely eat or sleep when he was away. 
His constant disappearing act put you through hell. And he hated himself for it. All he wanted- all he ever wanted- was to make you happy. To bring you calm and ease and tranquility. And now that he was home, he swore to himself that he’d give you peace. 
Bucky finished with the dishes and headed into the bedroom, hoping to soak up as much time with you as possible. But just as he made his way into the en suite bathroom, your grumbled, aggravated voice caught his attention.
“Oh, what the fuck?” You let out a deep huff, staring down at your phone with a sharp seriousness.
Bucky popped his head into the bathroom, “Everything okay?” 
A look of surprise splashed across your face; you hadn’t heard him come in. “Oh- hey. Yeah. Everything is-” you gestured to your phone, “everything’s fine. My friend just sent me a stupid gossip article.”
“Anything good?” Bucky shot you a wink, knowing damn well he was clueless about the latest reality tv drama. 
“No.” The word carried a hefty weight and fell to the ground with finality.
Bucky clocked your tone, your expression- both struck him as too serious for a gossip rag. His muscles stiffened ever so slightly at sight of your displeasure. 
“Just dumb shit. People writing whole articles over things they have no idea about.” You rolled your eyes and slipped your phone into your pocket. A deep breath acted as a reset to your system, clearing the fog of frustration from your mind. “And it doesn’t even matter, cause we have a perfect day planned.” 
Bucky, too, took a deep breath. He relaxed into a smile and leaned against the door jam. “We sure do, doll.”
He was too accustomed to disaster. Always prepared for the worst. The slightest change in your demeanor sent him hurdling toward the worst possible conclusion. His body was home, but his mind remained stuck in a never-ending battle. 
“I’m just gonna put my shoes on- I’ll be ready when you are.” Bucky stepped away and did his best to shake it off. ‘Everything’s fine, it’s all good’, he said to himself as he laced up his boots. ‘It was just an article about Vanderpump Rules or whatever.’ His palms dragged up and down his thighs, his chest rose and fell rhythmically. He learned how to self-regulate, to talk himself down, long ago- before he ever met you. It was his only option back then.
The sound of your footsteps bounding down the hall commanded Bucky’s attention. He snapped out his dimly lit world and stepped into your technicolor atmosphere. A comforting sigh of relief spread though his body as he noticed the bright smile on your face. Any evidence of the upset your gossip rag caused was long gone, replaced by an all-encompassing warmth. 
“Alright, Barnes,” you grabbed your purse from the hook by the door and slung it over your shoulder,  “let’s do this.” 
The warm summer air greeted the two of you as stepped out of your apartment building. The busy city pulsed with the possibilities of a perfect Saturday. People passed by with dogs in tow. Cars honked. Birds sang. And finally, things felt right. Everything fell off its axis when Bucky was gone. The world turned in the wrong direction, the sun set on the opposite side. And only his return could set things properly in motion.
“Okay, to the bookstore,” Bucky weaved his fingers with yours and gave you a gentle tug in the right direction, “here we go!” 
Bucky never had an affinity for going out in public. He didn’t particularly enjoy the crowded sidewalks or busy subways. Throngs of strangers surrounding him from every angle only ever served to put him on edge. But he’d improved. He’d worked through his anxiety and his fears- all to be with you. It seemed, though, that his paranoia threatened to creep in again. After so much time away, surrounded by danger, he found himself scanning every face on the street, assessing possible threats. 
He always experienced some level of recognition in public, sure, but today felt different. Every pair of eyes seemed to bore through him, every mouth whispered his name. His muscles tensed, his jaw locked. 
“You okay?” you pulled Bucky to the side, out of the flow of people, “you seem a little on edge.”
“Oh-” Bucky snaked his hand out of yours, realizing all at once the force of his grip. He watched you rub at the sore spots he created and silently cursed himself. “No, I’m good, I’m okay. I think I’m just-” He eyed the area once more, “I think I’m just being paranoid. Is it me or is everyone staring at me?”
Your heart stopped. “Um, no, I don’t think everyone’s staring,” A casual shrug and a shake of your head punctuated your thought. “I think you’ve got some residual adrenaline or something, you know?”
Bucky nodded. “Must be it. I’m sorry about your hand, baby.” He pressed his lips to the indentations his fingers left behind. 
“I’ll survive,” you threw him a wink, “but the kisses help.”
The two of you continued your journey with Bucky’s worries only slightly assuaged. It seemed to him that hundreds of eyes raked over him with each passing second, but he forced his anxiety behind a wall. He wasn’t going to mess up this day with you- he couldn’t. He didn’t know how many chances he had left, and if this was the last one, he couldn’t afford to ruin it.
Block after block passed as you and Bucky got closer to the bookstore. Sure, there was a similar shop only a few minutes from the apartment- but it wasn’t as cute or as special as the one in the village. And Bucky wanted this day perfect. He’d do anything to make you happy. And so, he sucked it up and vowed to make the trek with you, no matter how nervous the public made him. 
But with only a few blocks to go, you pulled him to the side once again.
“Hang on, shoe’s untied,” you attempted to bend down and tie your loose lace, but Bucky refused to let you. He, instead, knelt on the sidewalk and gave your shoe a proper double-knot. 
He stared up at you with adoration in his eyes and a warm smile on his face, “this is almost like a Cinderella moment,” he joked. “Except I-” 
Something caught his eye. 
And before you had the chance to intervene, he was gone. He forced his way past cyclists and families with children, his body seemingly drawn in by a magnet toward whatever grabbed his attention. He stood with his back to you, examining a newspaper box. 
“Come on, Buck, no one reads the paper anymore,” you laughed, attempting to sway his focus. But he didn’t move. 
His gaze remained on the grainy photo of the two of you holding hands outside your building. For the second time that day, you scanned the headline: ‘SERIAL KILLER’S PR RELATIONSHIP: The Winter Soldier’s Attempt to Win Over the American Public’.
“What- what is this?” Bucky looked to you for help, for context. “Why did someone wrote about us?”
A haunting sense of hopelessness filled his eyes, leaving you gutted. And though he wanted to look away, he couldn’t seem to pull his eyes from the page. Each second spent examining the harsh headline caused him more pain, more anguish. 
He truly couldn’t believe what he saw. And he couldn’t believe he’d dragged you into the crossfire. 
“Hey, don’t pay it any mind, okay?” You fought to meet his eyeline, “It’s just stupid gossip-”
A realization flashed across his face, “is this what you were reading this morning?”
A slow nod confirmed his fears. “I wasn’t trying to hide it from you, I just-”
Bucky snatched a paper from the box and began reading at lightning speed. With each sentence, the dread filling his chest grew heavier. “Hydra’s deadliest weapon has a new victim,” Bucky read aloud. “though she hasn’t been bloodied or brutalized…yet. We’ll see just how long Barnes’s new PR ‘girlfriend’ survives.”
The words cut him deep. They wormed their way into his brain and unearthed the fears he’d long tried to put to rest. He knew he was wrong to be with you. He was wrong to indulge in his feelings for you. Dating you meant putting you in danger, and he’d known that all along. But you were never scared of him- and if you were, you didn’t show it. This article, however, cemented his belief: your relationship was a ticking time bomb; being Bucky’s girlfriend meant signing your I love you’s in blood. 
“Wait-” he dragged his eyes upward and met your anxious stare. “What does this mean- what’s a ‘PR relationship’?”
You rolled your eyes at the phrase, just like you had earlier that morning, “’public relations relationship’. It’s a fake relationship that’s been arranged by a PR firm. People usually do it to get publicity or fix their public image after a scandal.”
Bucky knew there was more to your answer, and he had enough questions to last till dinner. But the article was long- too long. He knew it had to be full to the brim with the most brutal, vile rhetoric possible. Reading it would hurt, yes. But he needed to know exactly what the article said about him, about you. 
He buried his face in the paper once more, only surfacing to share a line or two with you. “They think you’re being paid to date me? That we’ve been doing something called-” he double checked the article, “‘pap walks’? What’s a pap walk?”
Even in times of crisis, Bucky’s lack of modern knowledge still managed to pull a smile from you. “It’s where you call the paparazzi so they can take pictures of you, but you pretend it was spontaneous.”
Bucky looked stunned, “Why would anyone do that?”
You shrugged, “you’d be surprised.”
People took pictures of Bucky without his permission constantly- it happened all the time. They snapped photos at the grocery store and on the subway. And no matter how subtle they tried to be, Bucky always clocked it. He could almost feel the lenses on him. But he didn’t notice the person taking this picture on the front page. Maybe if he had, he could’ve stopped it. Maybe he could’ve saved you from being exposed like this.
He shook his head and disappeared once again into the disgusting story written about the two of you. He didn’t care much what they said about him. People hated him- that wasn’t knew information. And though he didn’t love being one of the most reviled men in history, he’d come to terms with it. But now that someone dragged you into the fray, the fire within him reignited.
“His new ‘girlfriend’ functions as a means of improving the public’s opinion of Barnes and humanizing the ex-Winter Soldier. It’s a PR strategy we’ve seen a million times- one that could possibly salvage Barnes’s reputation,” Bucky read aloud. He eyed the people who passed, waiting until they crossed the street to continue. 
“But what if she herself is no angel?” He rolled his eyes at the thought. “Surely, no one in their right mind would risk their life to date a proven serial killer. So, it’s entirely possible that she herself may not be in her right mind. Maybe she, too, is a criminal. Acting as Barnes’s new love interest could possibly knock time off her sentence or hours off her court mandated community service.” 
Bucky stared at you, aghast. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I- I can’t believe they’d say that about you…”
“Buck, it’s okay,” you shrugged. “We both know I’m actually in love with you for real. I don’t have a prison sentence to shorten or community service hours to perform. And the last time I checked, no one is paying me to date you.” You cut a glance to the newspaper box, full of papers with front page coverage about you and Bucky, “I’m not worried about their bullshit.”
Bucky’s grip on the paper tightened, crinkling the edges. “But why’d they have to drag you into it? You haven’t done anything wrong-”
“Neither have you,” your tone was insistent, steadfast.
“We both know that’s not true…” Bucky loved your support, your assertions that he was an innocent man. But he never believed them. He knew he had blood on his hands even if you couldn’t- or refused to- see it.
“We both know you had no choice,” your rebuttal didn’t waver. “But, speaking of things that aren’t true,” you gestured toward the paper, “they also dropped Sam’s name.”
Bucky scanned through the article until he found the paragraph in question. “Why put in the effort to clean the blood from Barnes’s tarnished reputation? Two words: Sam Wilson,” Bucky paused his reading and stared up at you with wide eyes. All you could do was nod. 
“Barnes and Wilson have been seen together on many occasions and have even been photographed on Wilson’s family boat in Louisiana. But Barnes’s association with Sam Wilson, AKA the New Captain America, only hurts the Captain America brand. Even if the two did take down the Flag Smashers as a team, Barnes is a bloodstain on the brilliant red, white, and blue of Wilson’s Cap.” 
Hearing the words aloud twisted the knife. Sure, skimming the article hurt, but listening to Bucky read every last disgusting word hurt you in ways you never imagined. He deserved better. He deserved a world that loved him. A world that welcomed him home and celebrated his life. He deserved a fucking medal of honor for simply surviving what Hydra put him through. But he didn’t get medals or high praise; he, instead, got spit on by people on the subway. 
“But if this new woman improves Barnes’s image in the public eye, his destruction of Wilson’s mantle may be mitigated.” 
Bucky balled up the paper and crushed it into the nearest garbage can. His hands shook with anger, with anxiety. 
“I hadn’t even- I didn’t even think of that…” he leaned against the newspaper box, dejected. “I didn’t realize I was ruining Sam's reputation just by being friends with him.” Despair darkened his expression. He knew getting close to people was selfish- he just never realized how selfish. And in one fell swoop, he ruined the lives of the two people he cared about most.
“You’re not- you’re not ruining anything,” you took Bucky’s face in your hands, cradling his cheeks. “These kinds of stories are all made up, baby. There’s no sources or actual information for them to work from, so they just write whatever will get them the most attention.”
Bucky’s gaze fell downward. “I don’t know, doll…”
“But I do. I know.” Your words came out desperate, pleading. Something inside of you shook with a frantic need to mend Bucky’s broken heart. You’d never seen him this despondent, this torn apart. “And I’m not gonna let you doubt yourself because of some low budget, piece of shit gossip article.” Regardless of the emotion holding you hostage, your voice didn’t waver. You stood firm in your conviction, determined to help Bucky find his way out of the spiral. “I love you. I love being with you. I missed you so much- I hate when you’re gone. And Sam- Sam loves you, too. I mean, not as much as me…” you shot him a wink. “But he is your best friend. He cares about you. And I can guarantee that he’s never- even for a second- thought that you were ruining his reputation.”
Bucky gave a shake of his head.
“Hey, you know Sam doesn’t care about that kind of stuff- he doesn’t give a shit what people think.” Sam knew Bucky as the ruthless assassin, the broken fugitive, and the rehabilitated man seeking amends. He’d seen the darkest, most twisted version of Bucky created by Hydra- even fought against him. But he didn’t see Bucky as a villain anymore. He saw only his friend, the tortured soul who tried his best every day.
Bucky lifted your hands from his face and held them to his chest instead. He gave a deep, heavy sigh that vibrated under your palms. He didn’t know what to do, what to say. Part of him wished to go back into cryo and escape the stares of the world. 
You could see him crumbling, collapsing in on himself like a dying star. He was drowning in his own mind, and you offered him a life preserver. “Hey, I know it must feel fucking awful to see a story like this about yourself. And I know you hate that Sam and I are involved. But it’s not your fault.” You gripped his t-shirt in your fists, desperate to get your point across. “This whole thing is so predatory and evil- it’s killing me to see you hurting like this. But I swear to you that this does not matter to the rest of the world. they won’t even notice.” Bucky’s stare sliced through you. Something in his eyes appeared hopeful- but only for a moment. The brightness died suddenly, replaced by despair.
“Seriously, Buck, people these days don’t even have the attention span to read an article this long.” Bucky didn’t laugh at your attempted levity. You dropped your joking tone and grew serious. “I don’t want you to think that this changes anything- it doesn’t. This will not have any ramifications. It will all blow over. The news cycle moves so fast now- by tomorrow, this same shitty paper will publish something that’s, like, ‘Elton John is secretly an alien.’”
Bucky didn’t answer. He simply rested his shoulders against the cool, brick wall and let his head fall back. He wondered if the fear people held for him would ever subside, if he’d ever be seen as anything other than a monster. His legacy was soaked in blood. It hung over his head every day, dripping crimson onto his skin. No shower could undo the stains- no matter how hard he scrubbed, he’d always be the stuff of nightmares.
“Okay, hey, how about this,” you reeled Bucky back in, saving him from the dark recesses of his mind. “Let’s just go home, alright? We can hole up and hide out. Watch movies, order takeout. We’ll just stay out of the public eye until this bullshit blows over.”
The offer enticed him. Escaping the stares of strangers, their horrified expressions- it sounded idyllic. The thought of just the two of you snuggled together on the couch, marathoning all of What We Do in the Shadows with Chinese takeout in hand was tempting. Bucky could feel the ‘yes’ forming on his lips. But at the last second, he refused with a shake of his head.
Bucky made a promise to you. After being an absentee boyfriend for months, he planned out the perfect day and swore on his life to deliver. He couldn’t break any more promises- not after he was gone for so long. And he had so much to make up for. So many date nights and lazy weekends fell by the wayside while he was away. He racked up a stack of debt in your relationship, and if he didn’t start paying it off soon, he feared you’d cancel his account.
But he knew you- knew you didn’t care about these things. You didn’t consider him accountable for the time he missed or hold a grudge against him. You were gracious- too gracious- of him. And if he rattled off his reasons for refusing your offer, he knew you’d sweep them aside. He knew you’d lead him home without hesitation and stay cooped up inside until the world eased up on him. And you’d miss out on your perfect day. 
Bucky wasn’t going to let that happen.
“I think it’s actually better if…” he eyed the people passing, certain they were shooting the two of you dirty looks. “I think it’s better if I just go about my day. If we go home and hide, I’ll obsess, you know? I’ll get trapped in my own head.” He quickly tacked on an addendum, “but if you’re not okay being out in public right now, I understand. They involved you in this mess, too.”
You shrugged, “it doesn’t bother me. I know our relationship is real. That’s all that matters.” 
And for a split second, Bucky’s worries disappeared. You were so sure of your love for him. So unbothered by what everyone else had to say. You didn’t let the opinions of others get to you; you loved Bucky, end of story. You adapted to every hurdle and challenge brought on by dating the ex- Winter Soldier. And you did so with a smile.
“Okay, good. Then I guess our next stop is the bookstore,” he said with a small smile. You tried to turn and head in that direction, but Bucky caught your hand, stopping you. “And hey- if anyone on the way there gives you trouble, you just say the word, okay?” 
But no one gave you any trouble. The walk to the bookstore was quiet. Unremarkable. No one hollered close-minded comments at Bucky. No one gave either of you venomous glares. The calm shocked Bucky. He’d been so sure that this day would fall apart. That everyone who read that article would converge on the two of you all at once, harassing and degrading you until you retreated home. But no one said a word. The two of you simply strolled hand in hand, soaking in the warm summer sun. And Bucky’s hope for a perfect day renewed.
“I thought it would be in this section…” Bucky scanned the ‘fantasy’ section of the bookstore, searching for a specific novel. He took the high shelves, and you took the low, meeting in the middle after a fruitless search. 
“Yeah, I didn’t see it, babe,” you rose from your squatted position, two mystery novels under your arm. “Maybe you should ask an employee? I can stay here and keep looking, just in case we missed it.”
“Yeah…” Bucky gave the area another cursory glance, to no avail. “That’s a good idea. I’ll be right back.” He dotted a kiss to your forehead and set off in search of a clerk, leaving you behind to double check the shelves. 
The hundreds of books lined up in perfect rows put you at ease. This shop was the coziest place in the city, a peaceful paradise free from the noise. And spending a Saturday morning with Bucky, wandering amongst the many titles, felt like home. Your fingertips brushed over a few of the spines, tracing the ornate lettering in search of Bucky’s book. 
“Excuse me?” An unfamiliar voice brought you back to reality, halting your hunt. 
“Oh, sorry,” you took a few steps out of the stranger’s way and continued your search, only for her to interrupt once again. 
“No, I want to talk to you!” her intense energy was out of place in the small, quiet bookshop. The eagerness in her voice rubbed you the wrong way. “Is it true?”
You stared at her, a blank expression on your face. “Is what true?”
“The whole PR relationship thing!” She pulled out her phone and shoved the article in your face, “I read about you two this morning.”
Your hands tightened into fists. Your jaw tensed. And though you wanted to wring this woman’s neck, you kept your cool; Bucky wouldn’t want you to get into a fight on his behalf. With a deep breath, you quelled the rage building inside you. You set down your books and relaxed your shoulders, forcing your breathing to steady.
This stranger had no right to ask invasive questions about your relationship, and no right to ruin your favorite bookstore. “Our relationship is none of your business,” you said, and turned back toward the bookshelves. This stranger didn’t deserve your eye contact, your attention, or your mental space. “Please, leave me alone.”
“Oh, duh! I bet they made you sign an NDA, didn’t they? I get it,” she threw an all too friendly chuckle in your direction. “Can you at least tell me what they’re paying you?”
With that, you brushed past her and attempted an escape. All you wanted was to find Bucky and put this whole interaction behind you. But she followed, phone in hand, recording the whole thing. 
“Are you a criminal, too? Are you getting time off your sentence or something?” she called after you. 
You let it go.
“How’d they get you to agree to this arrangement?”
You ignored her.
“Aren’t you scared? I could never do what you’re doing,” she said. “No amount of money could ever get me to be near that man- he’s a serial killer. He’s a monster!”
Something inside you snapped. You whipped around, rage burning behind your eyes. She crossed the line. She didn’t know anything about Bucky, only what the papers and tabloids said about him. And she
deserved to pay the price for speaking about him so harshly. But just as you opened your mouth to tear her to shreds, a large hand rested on your shoulder. 
“Hey, doll,” Bucky stared down at you, “What’s-”
Your harasser’s eyes widened. “Oh my god,” pure terror rendered her white as a sheet. “It- it’s him…” Clumsy steps carried her backward as her phone slipped from her hand. She scrambled for it, desperate to run in the opposite direction. Breathless, horrified sounds fell from her lips. Her hands shook. You watched with a smile as she snatched her phone from the floor and tripped over herself as she high tailed it for the door.
Bucky eyed the woman as she knocked over displays and ran into other customers. “What was that about?”
You gave a shake of your head, “nothing. She was just hounding me about the article.” 
Bucky’s shoulders slumped forward ever so slightly. Hit brow grew furrowed. “Oh, baby…” he sighed, “I’m sorry.”
“Why are you sorry? You didn’t follow me around and ask me invasive questions.” You stretched up on your toes, planting a kiss to his cheek. “It’s not a big deal. I just hope I don’t end up on her Tik Tok.”
Bucky’s mouth fell open, “she was filming you?” 
You nodded. Bucky’s face fell. 
A rushed “Don’t worry about it, though” pushed its way past your lips. It had an over-the-top cheery tone and a thick affectation of reassurance. You could practically hear Bucky’s heart splintering and shattering with each passing second, and you had to stop it. “I’m sure she’s gonna watch it back later and delete it when she hears her own panicked panting,” you shot him a wink.
And you waited. Waited for the gears in Bucky’s mind to turn. To grind. The devil and angel on his shoulders fought one another, bare knuckled, to convince him of their arguments. The devil told him to spiral, to jump headfirst into a dark sea. He told Bucky this was all his fault, that you’d been harassed, followed, and filmed all because of him. The angel, however, urged him to listen to you. To take a deep breath. To hold your hand. To understand that the article wasn’t his fault- none of this was his fault. 
And after a long moment, he slipped his hand into yours. The gesture was a bit reluctant, sure, but you didn’t care. He’d resisted the urge to plummet into guilt and shame. And that’s all that mattered. 
You let loose a deep sigh as relief spread through your every cell. “Let’s get outta here, okay? We can head back home and-”
“What about breakfast?”
You eyed Bucky for a moment. “You still wanna go?”
“Yeah, absolutely,” he gave you a small smile. “I know how excited you were about it.”
Of course, all he cared about was you. Your happiness. Your enjoyment. Your love for this diner’s chicken and waffles.
“We can just go another time,” you assured him. “It’s no big deal.”
Bucky sensed the disappointment, no matter how slight in your voice. He couldn’t ruin this day for you. He couldn’t let you down again.
But he thought about the walk to the diner, the hordes of people you’d encounter on the way. And just like that, he felt his manufactured mask of optimism slip.
A sudden rush of what if’s pummeled his psyche. He imagined more harassers filming you, more unhinged strangers following you. He heard them yelling the most despicable things in your direction, hurling insult after insult your way. The voices grew into a loud, almost violent cacophony that rattled inside Bucky’s skull. 
He couldn’t let you be exposed to the cruel world like this. He couldn’t take you to breakfast when an angry mob threatened you at every turn. You didn’t deserve to be yelled at, to be disrespected. And what if they turned violent? What if someone followed the two of you home? He couldn’t risk your safety like that.
But he still had to make up for all his time away. All the lonely nights you spent awake, wondering if he was still alive. All the weekends you spent alone, missing him until it hurt. And he’d made a promise- to himself and to you- that he’d rectify the pain his absence caused. 
Plus, he had to be over-reacting, right? Assuming the worst out of people he didn’t even know- it wasn’t fair. Sure, a stranger followed you around and gave you a hard time. But she didn’t hurt you. She didn’t even try to get violent. It was all in Bucky’s head- he was sure of it. He made a conscious effort to release his shoulders from their tension-locked position and forced a deep breath into his chest. 
“No, doll, really. It’s okay,” he gave your hand a squeeze. “I can tolerate a few dirty looks.”
The second the two of you stepped out of the bookstore and onto the busy sidewalk, you clocked the way hung his head. The way he hid from the eyes of the city. He tried to shrink himself, to protect himself. The confidence, the self-esteem he’d worked so hard to build came crumbling down in an instant. This wasn’t your Bucky, but the Bucky of years before. The Bucky who hated every fiber of his being. The Bucky who took every harsh word spoken about him as gospel. The Bucky who punished his innocent body to make up for his tortured mind. 
The reemergence of this Bucky twisted the knife with which the article stabbed you and rubbed salt in the wound.
The walk to the diner brought out your chatty side. Filling the air with lighthearted anecdotes and silly jokes seemed to you like the only way to keep Bucky afloat. If you could distract him from the pain, from the potentially hateful onlookers, maybe this day could be salvaged. But, much to your surprise, not one person harassed the two of you. No one asked questions or followed you around. Not a single errant camera flash dotted the street. Hope rose in Bucky’s chest. Maybe this perfect day could still go as planned. Maybe he could still keep his promise.
When you arrived at the diner without issue, Bucky found himself almost laughing at his own dramatics. He knew he worried too much, that he always considered the worst possible outcomes. He saw the world through a dark and stormy filter, always casting shadows over reality. But to his delight, he’d been wrong this time.
The bell atop the diner door gave a delicate jingle as the two of you made your way inside. The place had an old-timey feel that brought Bucky a sense of comfort, a sense of home. Large families sat packed like sardines in every booth. Tray after tray of French toast and eggs benedict passed by. The smell of bacon and golden-brown pancakes instantly pulled his lips into a smile. It seemed to Bucky that this joint was the real deal. He couldn’t wait to try the chicken and waffles you raved about. Couldn’t wait for a syrup-sweetened kiss. 
“For two?” the hostess asked when you made your way to the front of the line. You gave her a nod. 
She eyed the section to her left, appraising the area for an opening as a busboy waved in her direction. “Okay, this way,” she grabbed two menus from the host stand and gestured for you to follow. 
But just as you attempted to trail her through the sea of tables, a booming voice caught your attention. 
“Hey!” 
The restaurant quieted. Heads turned in the direction of the outcry.
A large, gray-haired man with a soiled apron stepped into the hostess’s path, blocking her way. A deep crease formed between his furrowed brows. Sweat dotted his bright pink cheeks. This was the face of a man who stood over a hot grill for twenty-five years. He was familiar, but only vaguely so. You could’ve sworn you’d heard that voice before- though with a kinder intonation. And then it hit you.
During your last visit to the diner, he stopped by your table to ask how you liked the food. He was so kind, so even tempered. He thanked you for choosing to spend your Sunday morning at what used to be his father’s restaurant. He was so proud of the old place. So compassionate for its time-worn booths and outdated wallpaper. He told you how he worked in the kitchen for so long that now, even as the new owner and manager, he couldn’t stay away from the griddles. 
But the kind-hearted man you met last time was long gone.
“Not in my restaurant!” He ripped the menus from the hostess and dismissed her with a sharp wave of his hand. He glared at Bucky, his eyes brimming with hate. “We don’t serve murderers here!” 
The lighthearted chatter died out altogether. Forks stopped clinking against plates. Children halted their laughter. Hundreds of eyes locked on Bucky as his cheeks burst into a red flush.
“Get out before I call the police!” The man took a step toward the two of you, “You’re not welcome here, you psycho.”
“You can’t talk to him like that!” you barked back. “He isn’t-” 
“Baby, don’t,” Bucky cupped a hand around your upper arm and tried to gently pull you toward the door. “Let’s just go.”
“No,” you cut your gaze back to the manage, “not until he apologizes.”
Bucky gave your arm another tug, “please.”
The desperation in his voice nearly made you crack. His eyes swept across the room and back again, taking in each and every horrified stare. With each taunt the manager threw his way, the weight of the public eye grew heavier. More suffocating. Their stares pushed Bucky’s shoulders forward and his head down. He was crumbling.
Not one person stood up for Bucky. No one- aside from you- called the manager out. No patron even gave a disapproving shake of their head. It sickened you.
With a small nod, you obliged Bucky’s request, and let him lead you out of the restaurant. The stares followed him the entire way.
Bucky wanted to disintegrate. He wished to, once again, turn to dust and evaporate into the breeze. If he ran, he could put a few miles between himself and this godforsaken diner in minutes. But he found his feet rooted into the ground. He was frozen. Trapped. Running wasn’t an option.
He leaned against the cool glass window of the diner and let himself process. He heard you talking a mile a minute, reassuring him until you ran out of breath. But he couldn’t pick out more than a few words. It wasn’t until a defeated apology fell from your lips that he snapped out of his trance.
“Wait- you’re sorry?” 
You nodded. “I’m so sorry, Buck. You didn’t deserve that.”
“Baby, you don’t have anything to be sorry for.” His gaze fell into a strange middle distance, landing on everything and nothing all at once. “I should apologize. That article… it ruined everything. I feel like I-” His eyes met yours, “your life is never gonna be the same after this.” 
You gave him a shrug, “who says I want it to be?”
His eyes met yours as an exasperated laugh left his chest, “You’re kidding, right? This is going to affect everything for you: jobs, housing, friendships. When people look you up online, all they’re gonna see is that article. They’re gonna see me.”
“Good. I want them to see you,” you said with a wink. “If I’m gonna date the hottest guy in the universe, I want everyone to know about it.” Bucky didn’t laugh. “Babe, I’m not worried about that kind of stuff right now. I’m worried about you.”
He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he let his gaze fall to the sidewalk below. “I’ve been through worse.” 
The worn-out, beaten down quality of his voice was enough to make you weep. Bucky didn’t deserve more pain. He didn’t deserve to be treated like a monster. But society cast him out and labelled him a vicious predator. They abandoned him, left him in a corner to rot and wither. All alone. 
And you weren’t going to let them do it again.
“Fuck that article and fuck all these people who wanna disrespect you.” You tilted his chin upward until his eyes met yours, “we’re gonna go home and order take out. We’re gonna watch some movies. And we’re gonna get through this bullshit together.”
Without another word, you slipped your hand into his and started off in the direction of home. But Bucky didn’t move. 
You turned back to him, an expectant look on your face. “You coming?”
“But…” he gave the diner another look, “You didn’t get your chicken and waffles.”
“What?”
“You should go back inside and eat,” Bucky pulled his hand from yours. “I’ll head home and-”
“Buck, I say this with love, but-” you cupped his face, “are you nuts?”
He let out a deep, genuine laugh. 
“I’m not gonna eat here ever again,” you spied the manager through the window, “fuck that guy.”
Bucky just wanted you to enjoy the breakfast you’d been dreaming of. He hated that you were willing to deprive yourself. That he’d ruined your special breakfast spot. But your fierce loyalty filled him with warmth. In that moment, he made a mental note. He planned to scour the internet and find the best chicken and waffles in the city to make up for today’s mess.  
“I don’t know why I’m surprised,” Bucky said. “You were ready to fist fight that guy.”
You put up your dukes and landed a few faux punches to Bucky’s chest, “hell yeah I was. No one is allowed to treat you like that.” Your hands fell to your sides. A sudden seriousness eclipsed your joking tone. “Ever.”
Bucky pulled you in for a hug, holding you close to his chest. He never thought he’d have someone like you in his life. Someone who loved him. Cared for him. Supported him. But, without fail, you had his back every time. You were his safe harbor, his soft place to land. 
Sometimes, he thought that maybe you were with him by accident. Maybe he was never meant to experience your gentle kind of love. Maybe he interrupted you on your path to someone else. Maybe he somehow got tangled in fate’s thread. But he didn’t care. 
You took Bucky’s hand once again, prepared to lead him in the direction of home, “Ready?” 
Bucky gave you a cheery nod, “let’s-”
“Fuck you, murderer!” a passerby shouted. He disappeared in a flash, bold enough to insult Bucky but cowardly enough not to hang around for the consequences. 
Bucky thought the man might’ve said something else as he bolted from the scene, but he didn’t quite catch it. He was too distracted by the vague sounds of discomfort grumbling out of your chest. 
“Doll? You alright?” 
Slowly, carefully, you turned to him. A look of shock yanked his features upward as he came face to face with the massive coffee stain covering your body. It splashed over the entirety of your chest, streaking down the front of your shirt. Steam still wafted from the drips running down your neck. Rogue droplets dotted your arms.  
“Oh my god…” Bucky didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to help you. 
The boiling tidal wave seared through your skin, setting each nerve alight. You could’ve sworn it hit bone. The sudden rush of pain forced a trembling into your hands, an unsteadiness into your voice. A stinging rush of tears brimmed against your lash line, but you wouldn’t dare let them fall. Not when you could practically see Bucky choking on his guilt.
“Wow, I wish that asshole was more of a cold brew guy,” you joked. “And he ruined my favorite shirt with his shitty aim.”
Bucky’s chest seemed to fold in on itself. It shuddered and shrank, collapsing against his thundering heart. Each inhale was shallower, greedier than the last. Oxygen leeched from his lungs as the crushing panic set it. An ever-darkening shadow clouded the edges of his vision- but he couldn’t succumb. Not when you needed him. 
Before he knew what was happening, he used his body to form a protective shell around you. He ushered you toward the diner door, scanning the area for oncoming threats. No one else was going to get to you- not today, not ever. 
A deep sigh of relief left Bucky’s chest as he ushered you inside. Sure, it was only coffee. And you weren’t even the target. But every passing second brought a new, horrifying ‘what if’ to the forefront of Bucky’s mind. 
What if you’d been thrown to the ground? 
What if you’d been shot? 
What if vengeful people wanted to spill your blood as payment for Bucky’s crimes?
He thought he might throw up. 
But the second he made it to the hostess stand, his nausea dissipated. The fog clouding his mind cleared. You were his priority- everything else could wait. 
“Someone just threw hot coffee on her,” Bucky said to the hostess. His words came out quick, firm. “She needs ice now.”
The hostess’s features sunk with a heavy guilt. “Oh, shit. I-” She glanced across the room at the manager and watched him with narrowed eyes as he schmoozed with the regulars. “I’ll go grab some right now, give me one second.”
The seconds dragged. Anxiety coursed through Bucky, prickling at his every cell. He clenched and unclenched his fists. Bit down on the inside of his cheek. Anything to calm the worry. But he couldn’t help it; you were attacked- because of him. And he needed to remedy it as quickly as possible. 
“You doing okay?” He stared down at you, worry creasing his features.
You nodded, “yeah. Doesn’t hurt that bad anymore. I think all of my nerves have gone numb, ya know?” You attempt at humor sunk like lead. 
“Baby, I’m so-”
“What the fuck did I say?!” the manager stomped over to Bucky, his wrath on full display. “I’m calling the cops! I already kicked you out once-”
Bucky held up a hand in surrender, “We just need some ice- the hostess went to get it. As soon as she gets back, I’ll go.”
The manager rolled his eyes, “No- you don’t get anything from us. Leave! I’m calling the police!”
It was then that the hostess appeared with a large plastic bag full of ice. She looked at you with kind eyes, apologizing silently for her manager’s behavior. “Here you go. Is this enough? I can get more-”
“It’s plenty, really,” you hastily grabbed for the bag and pressed it to your scorched skin. The cool sensation flooded your senses, doing away with any remaining discomfort. “Thank you.”
“Great, you got your ice,” the manager spat, “now get out.”
Bucky thanked the hostess a hundred times over as guilt settled in his stomach. He knew she’d get in trouble for helping him. He knew the manager would scream at her- most likely in front of everyone. But she’d shown the two of you kindness. She did her best to help you in a moment of need, regardless of what others said. And it renewed Bucky’s faith in strangers- if only for a moment.
“How does that feel? Is it okay?” Bucky eyed the dripping bag of ice, the shivering in your fingers. “I can ask her for-”
“Hey! Do you speak English, or just Russian?” The manager yelled, “GET. THE FUCK. OUT. You understand?”
Part of Bucky wanted to disappear into a cave for a while. Wanted to hide from the ridicule. But he couldn’t check out. He couldn’t evaporate and leave you to fend for yourself. No, he’d made a promise to himself the day he met you; he swore he’d always protect you. And though he couldn’t stop the public from treating you with malice, he could at least get you home safely.
“Woah, hey- where are you going?” Bucky put a hand over yours, halting your attempt to open the diner door.
“Well, I don’t know if you heard the lovely manager of this fine establishment,” you said, “but he wants us to, and I quote, ‘get the fuck out’. So that’s what I’m doing.”
Bucky gave a fervent shake of his head, “No. You wait in here. I’m gonna get us a cab, and-”
“It’s okay, I’ll come with you.” You gave the door a tug, but Bucky kept it from budging.
“Don’t,” a dark seriousness clung to Bucky’s words. “I don’t want anything else happening to you.”
Bucky’s protective nature was always sweet. Always made you feel special. You couldn’t help the tiny grin that pulled at your features. “Babe, it was just coffee-” 
“This time,” a grave look ghosted over his face. “It was just coffee this time.”
Bucky let his eyes drift to the busy sidewalk outside. Every stranger, every passing face posed a threat to your safety. Anyone could have a knife. A gun. And while Bucky was certain that the hot coffee had been meant for him- that you were simply collateral damage, an unintended target- he feared how the city might treat you. You’d already been followed, harassed, filmed, attacked. People saw you as fair game, as a token of retribution. An eye for an eye that made the city blind with hate.
“Can you just-” He dragged his gaze back to you, “will you please wait inside?”
Bucky couldn’t remember ever being this scared. Not on the train, not at Hydra. This was different; this was your life at stake. Your vulnerabilities exposed to the world. It was as if a magnifying glass sat posed above you, giving anyone and everyone a detailed look into your life. Bucky knew there wasn’t much time before the rays of the sun burned you alive.
“Okay, yeah,” you released the door handle, “I’ll stay in here.” It was the least you could do. 
He was deathly pale, his hand shaking with anxiety. He worried about you so intensely that you sometimes feared he’d get sick. And though no part of you wanted to send Bucky out there alone, you agreed. 
His shoulders relaxed ever so slightly; the whisper of a smile crossed his face. “Thank you,” he dropped a kiss to your forehead and headed outside to the world that hated him.
And hate him they did. You watched from the diner window, the scene that played out filling you with anguish. Not a single cab even slowed down for him. Vacant taxis turned off their lights as they approached- only to turn them back on once they’d passed. Bucky’s shoulders grew more slumped with each unsuccessful attempt at hailing a cab. His head drooped; his expression grew pained. This wasn’t fair. After his pardon, he’d worked so hard to earn the public’s trust, to reenter their good graces. He made his amends, went to therapy, even did a few interviews at Sam’s suggestion. 
One poorly written article in a shit-rag paper, however, was enough to send him back to square one.
All Bucky wanted was to get you home safely, and he couldn’t. He couldn’t even provide something that basic, that simple. He cursed himself relentlessly as taxi after taxi flew by. He was supposed to protect you, to take care of you. And yet, he was the reason for your pain. Your peril. It made him nauseous.
After countless failed attempts at securing a ride, Bucky turned to face you. He stared at you through the dirty glass, shame and disappointment dragging his features downward. For a long moment, he just stood there. Completely still. Passersby bumped into him every now and again. People muttered under their breath about him being in the way. But he didn’t move. He just looked at you, the person he loved most. You, the person he cared for above all else. You, the person he couldn’t protect. Couldn’t provide for. 
Part of him thought it best to just walk away. His absence would make your life easier, less chaotic. Safer. If he left you alone, maybe you’d find someone else. Someone normal. Someone better. Someone who could take you out to breakfast without putting you in harm’s way. Someone whose mere existence didn’t prompt strangers to scream at you in public. 
But he couldn’t leave you- ever. He was bound to you from day one. 
One last fruitless attempt at catching a cab sent his heart sinking down, down, down to the soles of his feet. And as he approached the diner with his tail between his legs, he felt himself stepping on it with each pace. He was so embarrassed, so ashamed. With a quick wave of his hand, he beckoned you to the door and popped his head inside. 
“Baby, could you…” he was almost too downtrodden to speak. “Could you get us a cab? No one will-” he cleared his throat, “No one will stop for me.”
The look on his face hurt worse than your scorched skin.
“Of course, Buck. Yeah. Don’t worry about it.”
It wasn’t lost on Bucky how quickly a cab stopped for you. It took less than a minute, maybe less thirty seconds. He stood on the sidelines, as far away from you as he could possibly get without leaving you defenseless. You looked good out there on your own, free from his burden. 
The cab ride home was quiet. Uncomfortable. The driver eyed Bucky in the rearview as though appraising a threat. He gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles lost all color. You swore you heard the gas pedal hit the floorboards more than once. The car sliced through traffic and screeched to a halt outside your building, throwing you forward in your seat. The seatbelt tightened against your scalded skin, pulling a groan from your throat.
“Thanks. Um,” Bucky handed the driver a wad of cash, “keep the change.” He kept his focus trained on you but couldn’t pretend he didn’t notice the way the driver flinched. The way his muscles yanked his body in the opposite direction. The way his hands shook as he took the money. Bucky wished to evaporate.
But he couldn’t, not yet. Not when you needed him. And so, he walked you upstairs and ushered you into the small apartment you shared. He double and triple checked the deadbolt, even pulled on the door to ensure your safety. He couldn’t let anything else happen to you- he’d rather die. 
“Alright, well, I’m gonna go take a shower,” you broke the tense silence. “I reek of cinnamon soy latte.” The laugh that punctuated your sentence did nothing to brighten Bucky’s stormy expression. 
“Sounds good, doll,” he nodded. “You can just drop your clothes in the hall, I’ll throw them in the laundry for you.”
“You don’t have to do that,” you frowned down at your coffee-stained shirt, appraising the damage done. “I don’t think this thing can be saved.”
Bucky shrugged, “It couldn’t hurt. I’ll give it a try.” He dropped a kiss to the top of your head, “it’s the least I could do.” And with a light tap to your ass, he sent you off to shower. The gesture wasn’t as lighthearted as it was just a few hours earlier, but he was trying. Trying to appear less dejected. Less broken.
But you saw through the façade.
When you emerged, free from the smell of coffee, you found Bucky in the kitchen standing over the kettle. He stared down at it, his hands resting on either side of the stove top, his shoulders nearly reaching his ears. You knew that look- he was lost inside his own head. 
“You know, I don’t think you’re supposed to watch that thing…” you said, snapping him out of his train of thought. “Otherwise, it’ll never boil.” 
His head snapped up. The darkness clouding his eyes parted. He smiled at your lame joke, letting your lighthearted tone lift his spirits. “I was just gonna make you a tea, I know you haven’t had the easiest day.” He just wanted to right the ship, to steer the two of you out of the dark, choppy waters in which you found yourselves. Maybe, this small, kind gesture could make up for your ruined Saturday. Maybe, it would keep you from leaving. 
“How was your shower?”
Just thinking about it made you wince. “It was fine, I guess. I had to use the coldest water possible- any warmth at all made my skin hurt.” 
Bucky’s eyes flicked from your face to the kettle and back. Worry creased his brow. “Should I not…” He sighed, “Are hot beverages out of the question?” He couldn’t believe how absentminded he’d been. 
“No! Definitely not,” you pressed a kiss to his cheek, “you know I’ll always take a tea. Thanks, babe.”
A small, proud smile spread across Bucky’s face. For once, he didn’t disappoint you. For once, he didn’t ruin the moment. After such a nightmarish day, he finally breathed easy, knowing that he’d done one thing right.
“I was thinking I could run out and grab us something to eat,” Bucky said when he got you settled on the couch with your tea and a fresh ice pack. “I know you’re probably starving. And I could-”
“Baby, no,” you shook your head. “I don’t want you out there- I don’t want you getting harassed or attacked. We’re in hermit mode for a few days until this whole thing blows over. Okay?”
Bucky barely mustered a nod. 
“Let’s just order some take out. What sounds good?” You dropped your ice pack to the side, grimacing at the loss of the cool sensation. But comfort could wait. You opened your laptop and sat up, poised to take Bucky’s order. But he didn’t answer. 
He remained silent for a long while, eyeing the floor with a blank stare. His nails dug into the palm of his hand; his jaw tensed. Something deep within him fought tooth and nail to claw its way out. It scratched at his insides, screaming for release. Bucky didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to even chance upsetting you. But the words slipped out of his mouth before he had a chance to stop them.
“Do you ever regret this?”
You cocked your head to the side, “Regret what?”
“This-” Bucky gestured to himself, and then you. “Us.”
The words hurt worse than your scorched chest. “No. Why would you even say that?”
Bucky shrugged, “Because you’re covered in second degree burns and it’s my fault.” Never before had he ever sounded this broken, this hopeless. Not even after Steve left. 
“Buck, it’s not your fault,” you shut your computer and inched closer to him. “You’re not the one who threw hot coffee on me-”
“But the person who did was aiming for me, and you got caught in the crossfire,” he choked out. “That’s my fault.”
“It’s not-”
He stood suddenly, his anxiety forcing him to move. “Can you deal with this for the rest of your life? All the staring and the harassment? And the hiding at home because everyone hates me? Is that the kind of life you want?” He paced with a fervent drive, fearing that if he didn’t burn through the nervous energy, he’d suffocate under it.
But, even in the face of his frantic movements, you remained seated, remained calm. Talking to Bucky in this state was like coaxing an injured animal into your home. One wrong move, and he’d bolt. Every move, ever word, had to be slow, measured. With an even tone and soft words, you refuted his sentiments. “I want whatever kind of life lets me be with you-”
“You want people throwing coffee on you forever? You want-” He paused, only to place your icepack on your chest once again. “You want to be kicked out of restaurants and denied cabs? Just to be with me?”
One small nod. “Yes.”
Bucky stopped in his tracks. He turned to you, his expression blank. “People used to vandalize my apartment, you know…”
“What?”
He nodded. “After I finally came back to New York and tried to settle in…” The memories of those uncomfortable, disjointed days filled Bucky with dread. He’d never been so lonely, so lost. He pulled away from you, fearing he’d complicated your life. He forced himself into isolation. And to make matters worse, his community turned their back on him. They didn’t welcome him home or celebrate his survival. They made him wish he’d never made it back. “They broke my windows, filled my mailbox with pictures of my victims, used animal blood to write ‘KILLER’ across my front door-” He let out a heavy sigh, one that came from deep within his bones. “That’s why I moved so often. My landlords- no matter how sketchy they were, no matter how much illegal shit they did to their tenants- kept kicking me out. I was too much of a liability, even for those shithole places.”
It left you reeling. Images of Bucky coming home to find his place completely trashed hurt you in a way you didn’t know was possible. You could see him, covered in blood, scrubbing his front door in the middle of the night. Wiping tears from his eyes as he looked through piles of photos of the people he hurt. Taping pieces of cardboard over his broken windows in the hopes of keeping out the severe, violent winters. He didn’t deserve any of it.
With a deep breath, you forced yourself back to the present. “Buck, I don’t care about things like that. They can vandalize our place if they want. They can throw coffee at me.” Slowly, carefully, you rose from the couch. “As long as nothing happens to you, I’m happy.”
A rough scoff launched out of Bucky’s throat, “Come on-”
“No, you come on,” Your words came out too intense, too hard. But you couldn’t maintain your even keel anymore. Not when Bucky was moments from unraveling. “I have been in this with you since the day we met. I knew- almost immediately- that you were the person I wanted to be with. Even when you didn’t know where- or who- you were. Even when you went back into cryo. Even when you turned to dust and disappeared for five years.” Dredging up the past hurt. It sliced you open and tore your heart into pieces. But you didn’t dare fall apart- not yet. “Even when you pushed me away,” your voice wavered, “I have been with you- and I always will be. Because I know who you are. I know you’re a good person.” A few tears dripped down your cheeks, “I don’t want anyone else. I want you.“
“Why?” Bucky shook his head, “I don’t- I can’t understand that.”
“Because you’re just- you’re you, baby,” you couldn’t help but smile at the thought of Bucky’s existence. “You’re kind. And you’re thoughtful. And you’re compassionate. You care about everything. Everyone. I’ve never met anyone with a heart like yours…” You shrugged, “I love you. So much.”
“I know you do. And I love you, but…” His eyes dropped to the floor, “I feel like being with me is a waste of your time. A waste of your love. You know? You should be with someone good. Someone with less baggage, whose hands aren’t stained with the blood of innocent people.” He dragged his gaze up to meet yours, desperation in his eyes. “I want to give you everything- I want to give you the world. But I can’t. I can’t give you what other people can. I can’t give you what you deserve.”
“I don’t want any of that- I don’t want the world,” you shrugged. “I want you.” To you, it was simple. Completely uncomplicated. But Bucky didn’t see it that way.
“Is that- am I enough, though? I mean, the quality of life I’ve given you so far has been…” He thought back on all the terrors and trials you’d face together. All the disasters to which he subjected you. He shuddered. “Everything I put you through is so fucking messed up. And scary. And painful. And-” 
He shook his head. Since the day he fell for you, he knew one simple truth. And for years, he did his best to deny it. Hide it. Run from it. But it came spilling forward all at once.
“There’s always gonna be something with me. Some problem, some mess. I’m either gone for weeks, fighting god knows who, completely unable to talk to you until I show up at home covered in blood,” he said. “Or I’m here with you while strangers to accost you on the street because they hate me.” He shook his head, disappointed in himself. Why did he allow you into his dumpster fire of a life? Why would he subject you to the heartache and the misery he knew lurked around every corner?
He fought the tears gathering in his eyes, the emotion that attempted to block his airway. “The waters are never going to be smooth. Not with me. And I don’t want you to have to deal with the fucking tidal wave of bullshit that is my life. You deserve better- you deserve better than me.”
“Buck-”
“I want your life to be safe. Peaceful. Comfortable. Not-” he gestured to the icepack on your chest, “whatever it is now.”
Without a word, you took him by the hand and led him to the couch. And for a long moment, he refused to sit with you. He didn’t want to give in, to lower his defenses and allow himself to get comfortable. But your red-rimmed eyes, glassy with tears, forced him to take a seat.
And when he finally rested beside you, you ditched your icepack and took his face in your hands. “Everything you said that you want for me? I already have it. I have all of that.”
He shook his head, “Doll-” 
“You make me feel safer and more comfortable than I ever have. Being with you is like being wrapped in a warm blanket made of bullet proof bubble wrap.”
Bucky couldn’t stop himself from letting out a quiet laugh. 
“I’m serious. You can talk about how the life I lead with you isn’t enough and how you’re not enough, but this,” you gestured to yourself and then him, “is everything I’ve ever wanted. Being here with you in our home is… it’s the most peace I’ve ever known. Even when we’re just sitting in silence, it’s- it’s warm. It’s comforting.” You inched closer to him and rested your head on his shoulder, “It’s like we’re the only two people on the planet. And we can just exist in the other’s atmosphere without pressure or fear. We understand each other. And it’s perfect.”
A rush of pink colored Bucky’s cheeks. Sometimes, even after all the years he’d spent with you, he didn’t know how to handle such loving sentiments. But there was no pressure to perfectly articulate his thoughts or express himself without flaws. A simple “I love you” did the trick. He leaned into you, allowing your warmth to soothe his aching soul.
“All that shit that happened today didn’t even bother me much,” you told him. “The lady in the bookstore, and the staring, and the coffee thing- I can deal with that kind of stuff. I can take that every day as long as I get to be with you.”
He pressed a kiss to your hair and caught a vague whiff off coffee but didn’t bring it up. 
“The only part that really upset me,” you continued, “was seeing people be so mean to you. And watching you get so down on yourself.” Reliving Bucky’s heartbroken expression at the diner almost made you tear up. “I can handle a rogue Starbucks, but I’ll never accept anyone treating you like that. You're everything to me- you always will be.”
Bucky handed you your icepack, begging you to put it back on your scalded skin where it belonged. “Well, I appreciate your support," he smiled to himself, "and your fierce loyalty.”
A mischievous laugh rumbled out of your chest. “Good. Just remember than when I call you from the county jail after I get arrested for burning that fucking newspaper to the ground.”
---------------
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just a little something for the darling @yournowheregirl to wake up to! it sounds kinda dumb and insignificant, but i always appreciate your tags in the fun tag games that come across your dash and for always being one of the first that ask something from those ‘ask me’ posts i reblog! it makes me feel appreciated and i am super grateful every time 🥰🫶🥹
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There was meant to be two beds.
Steve specifically got a double king room for the goblins, and another room with two queens for him and Eddie.
So of course as soon as they got into Milwaukee the night before the D&D themed nerd fest, the (actually very nice) woman at the front desk says: “We had to swap around the rooms, but the two will still sleep all you boys, don’t worry!”
Whatever. That’s fine, right? They’ll all have a spot to sleep the next two nights they’re here for the kids’ (and Eddie’s) dragon game convention.
He gets back to their rented minivan and passes the key cards to Eddie in the passenger seat.
The van was just the first point of contention between him and the kids’ beloved Dragon Meister, followed closely by…everything else.
The first thing Eddie said when Steve showed up in the rented van was “King Steve is coming along on our journey?”, to which Steve could only respond with “This ‘super cool’ guy you assholes have been going on about this whole time is Eddie “The Freak” Munson? Really?”
Following closely behind are: the tapes and tapes of loud garbled ‘music’ Eddie insists on playing, his absolutely tragic way of unwrapping Steve’s burgers for him when they stop for lunch, the wariness Steve has in the first place about this being the guy Dustin wouldn’t stop talking so highly about…this nerdy, obnoxious, third-time senior…great.
“204 is the Hellions’ room, 207 is us.”
Eddie bends an arm backwards into the feral beast enclosure the second two rows have become over the last six hours and Steve’s surprised he still has his hand when it returns to the front.
Steve gets the van parked in the hotel’s garage, and they head up to their rooms.
“Alright, assholes,” he says to the somehow still rambunctious masses, “This is you guys, Make sure you’re up by eight so we—“
“Yeah Steve, we got it,” Dustin scoffs, “As if we’d risk being late to this.”
Steve rolls his eyes with a “Fine, goodnight.” and shuffles the few steps across the hall to his and Eddie’s door, leaving the troops to file into theirs.
The only thought in his head is of laying down and getting the fuck to sleep. It wasn’t even that late but—
“Oh you’ve got to be shitting me.”
So that’s what brings them here. To their one barely queen sized bed.
“I guess I’m on the floor then, huh?”
“I’m not about to let you sleep on the floor.”
“Oh, the King has chivalry does he?” Eddie rolls his eyes and throws his duffle onto the armchair in the corner.
“As much as you, asshole; I just want you to have the energy to corral the gremlins tomorrow.” Steve scrubs a hand down his face. “Look, we’ll just deal with it tonight and I’ll get another room tomorrow.” he lies. As if he’s got the cash for that.
Eddie looks him over, and seems to come to whatever conclusion he needs to because he says “Fine, but you better not be a blanket hog.”
Eddie’s the worst blanket hog Steve’s ever had the displeasure of knowing.
He thought Robin was bad, but this is something else.
Eddie’s fully a burrito within an hour of laying down. After a hearty, but silent, game of tug of war over the worn duvet.
Steve falls asleep angry and cold, and wakes up on a cloud.
He’s so warm and so entangled in the comforter, he can’t help but snuggle deeper into the pillow he’s clutched onto.
The pillow hums back at him and scoots itself under his chin with a sigh.
Steve squeezes tighter onto the pillow momentarily, but his curiosity of why his pillow’s making noise gets the better of him.
He cracks his eyes open, looking down at the thing in his arms.
It shifts as well, and Eddie Munson blinks up at him with those (holy shit…beautiful, deep, dark) doe eyes of his.
“Hi.” Steve breathes.
Eddie’s eyes flutter shut, and shuffles himself back into Steve’s neck.
Steve chooses to blame the still sleepy bit of him for curving himself back around Eddie.
“How’d you sleep?” Steve whispers into the now-bared hairline under the other man’s bangs.
“Fucking amazing…” Eddie mumbles, snaking an arm over Steve’s waist and settling a hand in the middle of his back. “How ‘bout you, Stevie?”
“Stevie, huh?” Steve chuckles.
It’s only then that Eddie seems to come to his senses, his head shooting up before he scrambles away, falling straight onto his back between the opposite side of the bed and the wall with an “Oof!” and a “Fuck!”
“Oh shit!” Steve shuffles off the bed and helps Eddie back up, ”You alright, Eds?”
“Yeah..yeah, I’m fine..” Steve gets Eddie back on his own two feet and (reluctantly) lets him go once he’s stable.
‘Reluctantly? Why reluctantly? What the hell??’
“Sorry I was all over you, not the greatest thing to wake up to, huh?” Eddie says, huffing a sardonic laugh under his breath.
Steve hums nonchalantly, “It wasn’t all bad, I slept pretty fucking amazing too.”
Eddie hums an acknowledgment, then: “I wouldn’t—“ Eddie starts at the same time Steve says “I should—“
“You go ahead,”
Eddie’s hands come up between them, spinning the rings on his fingers nervously. “I was going to say that…I.. Iwouldn’tmindifyoustayedtonight..too.”
Steve blinks. “Good thing I was going to say that I really should save my money.”
Eddie’s smile is slightly nervous, but there’s a hopeful tinge to it that Steve can only assume means what he thinks it does (hopes it does).
“Leaves me with more to spend on the Gremlins, right?” he shrugs.
Eddie beams. “Glad to know we’re on the same page, Harrington.”
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also, if you haven’t heard it recently: Alice, YOU’RE DOING AMAZING SWEETIE 🤩
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