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#if I continue it would only be a second part
caraphernellie · 1 day
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can you write something about reader and ellie being in a new relationship! they’ve only had sex a few times and in this particular instance, ellie finds out reader has a praise kink. soft dom!ellie pls<3333
MEOWWWWWW this 😭 is 😭 the cutest 😭 idea 😭 ever 😭😭😭 softdom!ellie my favouritest ever. you will almost always find me writing softdom!ellie. um also this ended up being way longer than i intended! so... this was meant to be like, a blurb. a few paragraphs. it's over 900 words. yeah
cw: softdom!ellie, sub!reader, oral (r!receiving), finger sucking, overstim, looooots of sappy praise !!
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     mdni  ,  nsfw  under  the  cut  ౨ৎ
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"shh shh shh."
soft coos echo in the room, ellie trailing tender kisses up your stomach. the love is so fresh that the two of you can't help but be a little shy still, though, you more than ellie. the girl was glad to get her hands on you the very first time you'd let her. 
weeks later and she's just as enthusiastic, though reminding herself to steer things slower and gentler. you're still learning so much about each other, like what sets or ruins a mood, what's strange but stimulating, and especially for ellie – she's paying close attention to learning just how much you can take.
slicked fingers prod at your lips and without a second thought you part them. the fingers flatten on your tongue, and ellie's lips curl upwards when you accept it with a pleased hum.
"you can taste yourself, can't you?" she whispers, nipping at the skin of your jawline. the room's almost dead silent, aside from honeyed words and the lewd sounds of you sucking her fingers. "doesn't it taste good, babe? uh-huh… i know."
eager with her hands, ellie's had no issue with the physical aspect of sex. but this is the first time she's been so verbal in the moment, and she's already picking up on the difference it's making. what an effect it's having. and all it does is go straight to her head. a steep boost to that ego of hers, which to be fair, could use one.
ellie slides her fingers out of your lips and chuckles to herself, smearing spit over them, thinking about how pliable and docile you are three orgasms deep into her bed.
"just gotta have a taste," she murmurs, so close to your ear that you can feel her breath fan against you. it's so warm, as is the rest of the room, the scent of sex ruminating in the air. she dips down, resting back between your legs.
she's so focused until your hand paws at her head, taking grip of her hair, and you mumble the tiniest, "too sensitive, don't think it's a good idea, so–"
"oh, no baby, you can take it," ellie encourages, a less cocky and more reassuring smile left on her face now. "you're so good at taking what i give you, i think you can handle this. just one more for me, yeah?"
holy shit. the reassurance has such an effect– you feel it hard as you attempt to let go and let ellie continue. she pays no mind at first, hands languidly pushing apart your thighs, handfuls squishing at your skin. and yet your mind is still lost over her words. she's been borderline worshipping you all night and yet you're beginning to realise that what is setting tonight apart from all the others is her being so verbose. the praising of your body and your submission – the voice in which she says it and you can tell she means it.
first, she tucks that one temperamental strand of hair back behind her ear, and then she licks a tentative stripe down your soaked pussy. 
before your shaking hand takes leisure in ellie's hair – which she knows would end in fruitless tugging – she catches your hand in hers. "that's it, pretty girl. mmh, i know it's so intense, but you're gonna lay here and take it all, ain't that right?"
you nod so fervently, squeezing ellie's hand. she's definitely been beginning to notice this sudden affinity for her praises. it's amusing, yet at the same time, so rousing. 
a soft kiss against your clit has you bucking your hips closer, yet your hips want to wriggle away. you can't tell what you even want. but that's okay, isn't it? ellie's already decided for you.
thumbing at your clit now, ellie gives you a wide grin, watching you struggle and writhe. "oh, is that too much?" she watches you shake your head, admiring the look of sweet determination on your face. "no? good girl."
she all but dives into your cunt, lapping and sucking your cum like she's starving. she won't stop until you've covered her face in it. she's making careful, very intentional use of words now– rasping them against your hot skin so that you truly, physically feel her praise. feeling your hand squeeze hers so tight eggs her on, her eyes boring into your own. ellie watches you try at anything to ease the overstimulation, your free hand grasping and squeezing your tit. she listens to your mewls and moans over the sounds of her slurping your pussy.
"that's it, baby," ellie coos, "i know, i know. you're being so fuckin' good for me."
"ellie," you sigh, she can see it clearly, how fast your breathing picks up and how your legs threaten closure around her head. "ellie, oh, oh my god."
"you taste too sweet, baby," ellie muses, watching it all go right to your head. the way your eyelids droop, you're close. 
this has been her greatest bedroom discovery yet. with you teetering on the edge of orgasm, she makes her next words count, her voice reverberating against you. "be a good girl now, cum for me."
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ktgoodmorning · 3 days
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"I'm scared"
Alexia Putellas x reader
Part 3 of that awkward smile but also can stand on it's own in my opinion, just kinda in that same universe.
You get injured during the chelsea match and Alexia steps up to comfort you
I Part 1 I Part 2 I
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To say you were stressed about the upcoming Chelsea match would have been an understatement. Champions league matches always held more weight to them so you’d always be the first to put an immense amount of pressure on yourself. You were similar to Alexia in that way, always expecting the absolute best from yourself and willing to push yourself to any length necessary to get there, no matter what it took. 
But you were ready. That’s what everyone told you. Barça was incredible and you all knew exactly what you needed to do. You had trained for this and knew how to handle the pressure. 
You did all your pre game rituals, even getting a quick kiss on the forehead from Alexia once the others had left the locker room. They still had no idea the two of you had gotten back together and at the moment you wanted to keep it that way, knowing Mapi would be fiercely protective over both of you, scared to see her best friends hurt each other once again. 
Before you knew it, you were lined up in the tunnel, ready to take the pitch. Mapi was working her way through everyone, giving plenty of pep talks and words of wisdom asshe did so, being sure to make a long stop in front of you.
You were a center back, working hard to fill her shoes in her absence and trying your absolute best. Everyone knew it was a difficult job but you continued to improve and put in the extra hours to make sure you could make her proud. She was always sure to give you some extra advice and hype you up to make sure you knew that she believed in you. You had known Mapi for most of your life and as much as you’d never admit it, her faith in you worked wonders for your confidence and skills on the field. Especially with you still settling in at Barcelona, knowing that she trusted you in her absence made you step up to the plate in a way you hadn’t been able to before. 
As she approached you, Mapi took both your hands in hers, looking at you with a rare sense of seriousness that she often didn’t show. “You’re ready for this, amiga. Just do what you do best, quit thinking about anything else, just go play and be the footballer that you are.” She gave you a short nod which you returned to her before pulling her in for a short hug. Soon afterwards, you were being led onto the pitch for the game to begin. 
As the game got started, you settled into a pace that was much faster than most of the games you were used to. There was much more back and forth, more speed, and more physicality than you normally played with, both teams hungry for a win which only heightened the intensity further.
It was around the 60th minute when a Chelsea player sent a long ball down the field in your direction, hoping to reach Mayra Ramirez. You, being the closest to her, took off running towards her the second the ball started your way, pushing yourself to catch up with her and using your speed to your advantage. You were able to reach the ball just as it was about to arrive at its intended target, immediately jumping up in an attempt to head it away before Mayra could take control of it. 
However just as your feet left the ground, you felt a mind-numbing crack to your temple, clearly coming into contact with something that wasn’t the ball, before immediately collapsing onto the pitch. What you didn’t realize when you tried to take the header, was how close you were to the opposing player who, like you, was jumping up in hopes of getting control over the ball, leading to her head smashing into the side of yours. 
You had little to no awareness of the things going on around you as you layed there, curled in a ball, groaning in pain, wishing you didn’t exist. Pain was shooting through your skull with an intensity that made it hard to even pinpoint its origin. All you knew was that it hurt. 
Everything hurt. The sunlight in your eyes hurt, making you keep them squeezed shut as tightly as possible. Squeezing your eyes shut caused pain too, but not quite as bad as if you had opened them. You didn’t even have the energy or mental capacity to fully react to the amount of pain you were feeling at that moment, just bringing your hands up to your face as if they would somehow shield you from the pain you were feeling, exhausted, tears unknowingly running down your face. 
 Game play stopped almost immediately as you and Mayra had both hit the ground hard, her seeming to be in better shape than you currently were. The second she saw your heads make contact, Alexia felt like her whole world came to a screeching halt. It did. You were her world. You had slowly become ingrained in everything she did as over the last couple months you had been together and now here you were, curled up motionless on the grass. 
She didn’t even realize it but the blonde had begun sprinting towards you the second you went down, not even waiting for the whistle or giving it a second thought. It was automatic for her, the need to protect you outweighing everything else. 
Normally if a teammate went down, Alexia would be the one to argue with the referee about whatever had happened and allow someone else to go comfort the injured player. It’s not like the captain had a reputation for being warm and fuzzy and good with handling people’s emotions. She’d leave that to the others so she could be the stone faced captain she preferred being. But not with you. You were different. 
Alexia was by your side in an instant, suddenly no longer caring who knew about your relationship. Keeping things a secret wasn’t even a thought that crossed her mind as she slid to her knees next to you, instantly grabbing your hand in an attempt to provide you some comfort until the medical staff could reach you. Her hands shook as she brushed some hair off your face and wiped your tears, genuinely terrified of what was going on with you. The blank stare in your eyes, paired with your silence and lack of reaction was eerie to say the least. 
“You’ll be okay, amor, I’ve got you. The physios are almost here.” It’s like time was moving in slow motion, feeling like they were taking forever even though they were just as prompt as they always were. Your girlfriend’s words were almost more for herself than they were for you. The way you still were yet to react, didn’t call for words of comfort, however she needed to say it out loud, just to hear it for herself. You would be okay. You had to be. She was thinking so many things at once that she couldn’t fully process it all, just fully in survival mode on your behalf. 
When the physios reached your side, Alexia moved over to give them some space, still refusing to let go of your hand as they did so. She didn’t notice, but plenty of teammates had given her some weird looks, confused by her sudden concern over you and the way she was expressing it so openly. The look of fear in her eyes was new to everyone, even those she had known her entire life. Nobody had seen the captain looking so unsure of things when she was on the football pitch, normally that was the place where she came across as the most confident no matter what was going on. 
The physios did their job, asking you a million questions and trying to examine you as best they could in your current state. Alexia could hardly pay attention to anything they said, far too caught up in her thoughts about what could be going on with you. 
You were hardly answering any of the questions, just mumbling soft responses here and there, struggling to focus on their words. Because of your continued lack of coherency, the medical staff decided to stretcher you off- something that didn’t help Alexia’s mental state, doing her best to hide the tears that were welling up in her own eyes. She was still yet to let go of your hand, squeezing it tightly as if her hold on your hand alone could keep you safe as she helplessly watched the medical staff load you onto the stretcher.
The blonde stayed by your side as the staff wheeled you off, only stopping when they reached the sideline where Mapi had come down from the stands to wait for you to take Alexia’s place by your side. Alexia knew that she wouldn’t be allowed to come off yet. It was the Champion’s League and everyone knew there wasn’t the wiggle room to mess with the subs more than absolutely necessary. As much as it killed her to see you go without her, she knew she didn’t have another option and at the very least, she was grateful to know Mapi would be by your side the whole time. 
When they paused at the sidelines with you, Alexia took the opportunity to give your hand a tight squeeze before bringing it to her lips to leave a kiss on the back of it. “You’ll be okay amor, I’ll see you as soon as this is over. I love you, okay?” She didn’t expect a response given your current state but appreciated the weak attempt at returning a squeeze of the hand to her. Mapi froze for a second, giving her a look of confusion over what she had just seen from her best friend before giving the captain a reassuring pat on the shoulder and taking Alexia’s spot by your side. 
Everything after that was a blur for you, only knowing that the medical staff were busy performing tests on you, doing what they could to make sure you were okay. You became more and more aware of your surroundings as they did so, feeling the shock of the incident slowly starting to wear off. They decided you wouldn’t need to go to the hospital and that it appeared to be a grade two concussion, paired with the sudden shock of the injury. While you’d still spend longer than you’d like on the sidelines, it was a much better outcome than anyone was expecting given the state you had been in when it happened. 
Once the physios had finished their tests, they gave you some medication for the pain and let you doze off on one of the treatment tables, snuggled into Mapi’s side while the game ended. The second the final whistle blew, Alexia was sprinting off the pitch with the sole intention of finding you, ignoring any other responsibilities that might have been awaiting her. 
She burst through the door to the training room, expecting to be told that they took you to the hospital, stopping herself only when she saw you sleeping peacefully against Mapi. For the first time since you went down, the blonde was able to take a deep breath and calm down now that she had seen you looking relatively okay. 
“Ssshhh, Ale, she’s asleep. But she’s okay. Grade two concussion, and plenty of shock but she’ll be okay, that’s all it is.” 
“Gracias a Dios,” Alexia’s shoulders visibility relaxed as she let out a heavy sigh, having assumed the absolute worst for the last half hour. 
“What’s going on between you two? Are you back together or something? Cause I really don’t think-” 
“Si, Mapi,” The blonde rolled her eyes at Mapi’s reaction, knowing it was exactly what had prevented you from telling her earlier. “I know you’re worried about her but I promise it’s different this time. We’re both in a completely different place now, and we’ve talked about it a lot, and it’s going amazing, Mapi. I promise you. I will not do anything to hurt her.” 
“You better not, juro por Dios. I’m so serious, Alexia, if you do anything-”
“I won’t! I swear, Mapi. I could never do that to her again. It kills me that I even did it the first time. This time is completely different, I love her more than I’ve ever loved anyone before.” 
The defender only responded with a very pointed look, clearly not too pleased with the current situation. It didn’t help matters that you were still passed out against her, unable to help your girlfriend reassure her that things were going well between you. 
Not wanting to discuss it any further, Mapi slid out from underneath you, carefully allowing Alexia to slide into her place. It was clear you knew who it was, snuggling into her further and grabbing the top of her kit tightly to make sure she couldn’t leave. It didn’t matter to you that she was drenched in sweat and smelling rough, you just needed her close to you, even if you weren’t awake enough to consciously decide that. 
Alexia took your movement as an opportunity to wake you up, gently rubbing your shoulder, and speaking softly as she did so. “Hola, amor. I think we should get you home so you can keep sleeping there, get you more comfortable. Si? You’ll stay at mine so I can make sure you’re okay.”
You nodded weakly, mumbling a somewhat incoherent agreement. The idea of going home with her sounded great but the idea of moving sounded like the worst thing you could imagine at the moment. 
She smiled softly at your reaction, knowing that there were few things you loved more than cuddling and that she knew she would have a hard time getting you to agree to get up right now. “You’re so cute when you’re tired and barely making sense, amor. I’ll carry you if you want.” 
She sat up further in an attempt to encourage you to join her, hoping to get a better idea of how you were feeling, but wasn’t expecting to see tears pooling in your eyes as soon as she did so. “Ale, I feel horrible.” Your voice was wobbly as you tried to hold in your emotions, suddenly overcome with pain in your head once again. 
“I know sweetheart, I know. I’ve got you though, okay? I’ve just gotta get you home and then I’ll take good care of you and let you rest more. Is that alright?” 
You nodded, looking and feeling more broken than you ever had before. “Could I please just hug you, first? Then we can go.” 
Your words made her melt, suddenly aware of how much you needed her support right now, allowing you to collapse into her arms. “Shh, I’ve got you. It’ll be okay, I promise. You’ll be alright, mi amor, you’ll be alright.” She rocked you gently in a way that almost seemed to dull the pain you were feeling. This moment in her arms was the best you had felt since you hit the ground, and it did more than you ever could’ve guessed. Something about being in her arms seemed to work better than any prescription ever could.
When you pulled away from her, she gently wiped away your tears, once again pushing your hair back away from your face. “I’ll see if Mapi can grab our stuff and then we’ll meet her at the car okay? Do you want a sweatshirt or anything?” You were both in your kits still and Alexia knew you enough to know that you always ran cold and preferred being snuggled up in a big sweatshirt. Your only response  was a pouty face, sticking your bottom lip out at her with your best puppy dog eyes as she gave you a smile and shake of her head in return. Of course Alexia knew exactly what you were implying with that face. It was your subtle (or not so subtle) way of requesting a sweatshirt of hers instead of your own. “I’ll get you a sweatshirt and let Mapi know that we’re ready to leave. Then I’ll come get you. Okay?” You nodded at her which she acknowledged with a quick peck on the lips before leaving the room, giving you the opportunity to lay down for a few more minutes while you waited. 
You must have slightly dozed off by the time Alexia returned to you because you awoke to the sound of the door opening once again. “Feeling any better?” 
You squinted slightly, trying to let your head adjust to the lights in the room. “Ale, you were gone for like five minutes, why would I feel any different?” The words carried more attitude than you intended, too far distracted by the pounding in your skull, but your girlfriend seemed to be unphased, just shrugging off your words before helping pull her sweatshirt on over your head. 
Once you seemed to be more comfortable, she turned so her back was facing you, bending down slightly so you could climb on, piggy-back style. “Hop on, I’ll carry you to the car, amor.” So you did just that, climbing on and then burying your face into the side of her neck, partially to block out some of the light, partially because you just wanted to be as close as possible. 
When you reached her car, she gently set you down on the passenger seat, making sure you were comfortable and buckled before leaving a kiss on the top of your head to go to the driver’s side. As soon as she sat down, she reached to hold your hand, giving it yet another reassuring squeeze. Although the silence between you provided some relief from the pounding in your head, It also sent you into a spiral of anxiety thinking about what this concussion might mean for you. 
Alexia quickly noticed your change in demeanor as she drove and how you went from mostly asleep in a comfortable silence to staring into space, clearly filled with tension. The fact that you were suddenly more awake was her biggest red flag given that you had been in and out the entire time she’d seen you. The panicked Alexia that had appeared when you first went down seemed to be back and filled with concern over you once again. “Hey, are you okay? Is something worse with your head, amor? What’s wrong? Do you want me to pull over? I can pull over if you want?” 
“I don’t know, I’m just scared I guess.” You gave her a grim shrug that did little to calm her nerves, still looking at you expectantly, trying to figure out how to help. 
“Scared of what? You’ll be okay, they said most of your symptoms should be getting better already in a few days.”
“Not about that, Ale.”
“Then what…” the blonde trailed off, clearly confused as to what you were saying. 
When she seemed to not be catching on, you let out a sigh, dreading saying the words that had come to mind. “It’s just that last time we dated, injuries are part of what tore us apart. We couldn’t deal with the stress of them. I’m just scared that that might happen again.” You paused, trying to put your thoughts into words, “I can’t lose you again, Alexia. So I don’t know if I should stay with you and I don’t know if we should do this, because I don’t think I can handle that again.” Your voice cracked as you went silent once again, both of you simmering in what was just said. By the time you finished speaking she had pulled into the driveway so she could now turn to face you, cradling the side of your head in her hand. The warmth of her large hand provided you comfort as you leaned into her touch, letting her support your head even more.
“Amor. I know it’s scary, I do. But I never plan on letting you go. Not ever. I promised Mapi that while you were passed out earlier and I’ll promise you that. We talked about this, we were both different people then. We are both more mature, stronger, kinder, smarter, and better. This is not the same.” You finally looked up to meet her eyes for the first time that night. “And I think you know that, amor. I love you, so, so, so, much. It’s okay to be scared, I’ll carry enough faith in us for the two of us. But at the end of the day, I’m not going anywhere. I promise. There’s a reason we got back together, si?” 
It was rare that you saw Alexia get so sentimental and emotional but something about you seemed to bring out that side of her. “Gracias, Ale,” she leaned forward to give you a gentle kiss. “I don’t know what I would do without you. Seriously.” She interrupted you with more kisses in an attempt to pull your mind away from your anxieties and back to the present. 
When she pulled away, Alexia was relieved by the small smile that had appeared on your face, the first she’d seen since before the game today. “Now let’s go inside, we can take a bath and get you some comfier clothes, and get you all snuggled up to go to bed. I’ll hold you as much as you want, I won’t go anywhere.” 
You gave her a small nod, before slowly leaving the car and following her inside, ready for a night with Alexia all to yourself and ready to take care of you. Your head still hurt, but if there was one thing that could make it feel better, you knew it would be your girlfriend and the hardcore pain meds you’d been given.
might end up doing one more for this but we'll see :)
Requests are always open
Masterlist
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a-b-riddle · 17 hours
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Part Three
Warning: If you don't like Taylor Swift, you're not gonna like this chapter that much, homie. But So Long, London is so fitting for this drabble series. (I guess a series since it's longer than a drabble at this point)
Can’t stop thinking about reader just trying to move on
You had to remind yourself several times not to check in with the guys. It had almost become second nature doing something big like this. But going to another country…
Not that they would care. You told yourself. It was for the best that way.
The expo went better than you expected. You didn’t believe that there would be a line out the door of eager readers wanting to read your book, but you got a decent amount. More than a few told you they couldn’t wait to read it. Several asking for photos and asking questions on any future books, a spin-off or even continuing the series.
When one a particular large group of girls your age asked for a group photo, you could have cried. They were had found each other in an online book club. You had given them your book several months ago. All copies signed with a note thanking them for taking the time to read what you had poured your heart into.
You had spent a large chunk of your free time talking to them. Bonding more so as women than over your book.
"Have you listened to Taylor's new album?"
It had only been out for two days and you had been able to avoid it like the plague. You didn't need to even listen to 'So Long, London' to know it would fucking gut you. So you would enjoy your time in the states. Save the listening experience for when you were packing up their stuff.
They had posted and tagged you before continuing on with the rest of the expo. You had reposted the photo to your own social media. Or at least one attached to the pen name you had crafted. You only had twelve thousand instagram followers, but it was something.
The first day was much like the second. You had attended several Q & A sessions with a panel of more experienced authors and managed to go to a few meet and greets. Before you knew it, it was time to pack up shop.
The agent the publishing house had assigned to you had stuck with you for most of the day. You were able to pick her brain a bit about new ideas for possible future plot lines and her thoughts. Overall, the trip was great.
Not only were you able to make great connections and take a lot back home with you to reference, but for a few days you forgot what waited for you back home. Or rather what wasn't waiting for you.
By the time your plane landed back in London you could barely hold yourself up. You left the expo, went straight to the hotel to shower, pack and head to the airport.
Your flight was delayed. Your luggage was taking forever to get onto the belt. It was only seven, but fuck if you weren’t ready to just call it a day. Tomorrow you would have to start again. Opening up the shop. Coming back to an empty flat. Maybe start gathering up the items the boys had left behind.
Should you give them in separate boxes or just one giant one and let them sort it out themselves? It was easy to discern whose sweatshirt and t-shirts belonged to who, but when it got to things like socks and chargers...
Yeah.
They could sort it themselves.
You could drop it off at Kyle's when you knew he would be at the gym. He was good at avoiding you anyway.
It wasn't until you stood in your apartment did it hit you.
You were alone.
For the first time in over a year you couldn't call one of them over to soothe that ache of loneliness.
For the first time in over a year, you had to relearn how to handle just being alone.
You usually showered at night. Washing away the grime of the day before settling into bed. But today was a new chapter. You woke up wanting to start it on a good note. Plus you went straight to bed after getting home so you still had a bit of airport funk on you.
It had been a week. One official since you had sent that text nailing the coffin shut. You had touched base with your friends who didn't bat an eye at you dating four men at once. They liked them, even if Simon scared them. You didn't give them the details of the breakup or the cause. You were pretty private in your problems and if you wanted relationship advice, you would seek an unbiased unopinion.
You had a good group of friends, but the moment you told them that you were well and truly heartbroken, they would insist the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else. Something you were nowhere near ready for.
So you needed to look like you had your shit together. You put on a dress that was feminine and, most importantly, comfy as fuck. An A-line floral frock paired with a light sweater and some white trainers. You knew a few of your friends would be stopping by for tea so you need to look like you were taking the separation well. Even if you were barely holding it together.
With makeup and perfume on, you started the early morning stroll to your shop.
You loved openings. Starting up the register and selecting the playlist for today. Picking out the essential oil to put in the diffuser even though you mostly stuck with a lavender and vanilla blend during the spring months.
For the morning you stuck with a Taylor Swift Instrumental playlist you had found initially for studying, but you liked the peaceful feeling it brought. Even when it covered the most gut wrenching songs.
You had started to collect the online orders that had accumulated over the last week. Sending out the e-mails alerting to your patrons that their orders were ready for pick up. Luckily you weren't set to receive a delivery until tomorrow.
It was eight and everything was set. Although not many people came to a bookstore at eight in the morning, it really didn't bother you opening up that early considering you were the only employee that was on the payroll. It gave you the possibility of making money, but mostly you spent the morning reading or writing.
You flipped the sign over from CLOSED to OPEN. Ready to start take on the day.
You had turned the kettle on in the back room when your friends had stopped by around lunch. You always said it was just tea, but you always had an array of snacks on standby for you all to munch on.
Meredith was complaining about what a dick the new client at the law firm was being. An absolute slime who had been married to his wife for almost twenty-five years before he decided to fuck his twenty-two year old assistant.
Tabitha didn't want to talk about work. To her, her career in tech was just a paycheck. She did what she needed to do and left when she was done.
You talked about the expo and how your book. Although neither of them really read, they had promised that they would read your book. You didn't hold your breath. They had reposted your posts as well as making ones of their owns in celebration of you. Words of praise about your dedication and hard work.
You realized that even though they couldn't give you the support you needed as readers, they supported you blindly. You could have written absolute garbage, but they would still support you.
You talked about how many people liked your book and wanted pictures and to sign their copies.
Then came the question you had been rehearsing since you had texted them a week ago. They both shared a look before Meredith finally asked.
"How are you holding up?" You gave a half-smile and a shrug. So perfectly rehearsed in your head you were ready to deliver your lies lines.
"I'm fine," you lied. "It was just fading so there isn't much of a difference, I guess." Not necessarily a lie. "We just wanted different things and were on different paths in life." Not a lie. "It's for the best." You weren't sure if that last one was a lie or not just yet.
They both shared a passing look before returning their gazes back to you. "You know you can come to us about this stuff." Tabitha's hand reached across the table, placing a hand on top of yours.
"It wasn't going to work out." You added. "Situations like that don't and I should have known better."
"A situation?" Meredith asked. "When have you ever called it a situation?"
"It always was one."
"I love you enough to call bullshit." She raised her eyebrow at you, crossing her arms over her chest. "You loved them and you need to stop pretending this is easy."
"You're a divorce lawyer, Mere," You reminded. "You see marriages fall apart every day."
"I do. I get to see from across the table how a woman is still willing to take her cheating arse of a husband back. So the fact that you went from on cloud nine with all of them to not even talking about the break up is concerning to say the least."
"Tabitha," you looked at your only ally left. "A little back up would be nice."
"I'm with her on this one." She confirmed. "You loved them. Not that I cared, but if you weren't talking about books or the shop, you were talking about them. What you did, where you went. How they fucked you."
"I think I'll miss that part the most." Mere sighed. "I lived vicariously through you."
"You know you could actually date people." Tabitha suggested.
"I'd rather live with chronic carpal tunnel than a man." You almost choked on your tea. If you were wearing pearls you would have used the comedic relief of clutching them to break the awkwardness of the current topic of conversation.
"That should be put on a t-shirt." You suggested
"I wouldn't mind it on a welcome mat to be honest." Tabitha added.
"But in all seriousness, cut this bullshit." Meredith gave you an sympathetic smile. "We're here. Good, bad and ugly."
You returned her smile. "I know."
You had closed up shop for the evening. Your lunch had gone longer than expected so now you were left doing the dishes and clean up during closing. You were setting the last cup on the drying rack when you heard the front door chime.
Shit.
You must have forgotten to lock the door when you turned the sign.
“I’m sorry!” You apologized, making your way out of the back break area and to the front of the store. “We’re-”
“Closed.” He said, locking the door behind him. “I saw the sign.”
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Never Felt A Love Like This Before
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The second part of the small bump mini fic series is out now!
pairings: leah williamson x reader
summary: its' been a long few exhausting months but finally being able to meet your baby girl was worth it in the end.
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"Let me take that from you, love," Your wife insisted, rushing to take the heavy load off your hands.
"I'm fine, Le," You couldn't help but roll your eyes playfully, you were of course now well accustomed to your wifes' overprotective nature by now. "I'm not made of glass, you know," you joked with her.
The final trimsester of your pregnancy was a time of both excitement and apprehension for both you and your wife, more so you also to deal with your wifes' need to be stubbornly overprotective of you even attempting to lift anything rometely heavy around the house.
You knew her concern was only coming from a good place though, her overprotective nature was down to the fact it had been a long nine months and she didn't wasn't about to let anything jepordizing the health of your unborn daughter or yourself.
You realized a few months it was easier to just suck it up and agree with your wifes' silly overprectiveness, it weren't that bad to deal with.
"It won't be long until we meet you, baby Gooner," Leah bent down and pressed a gentle kiss on your very pregnant belly before she peered up to look at you with loving eyes.
You both made the joint decision to find out the gender of your baby, but it was only both of your families, a few friends and of course your wife's team mates that new that you would be having a baby girl.
Leah especially was thrilled with the idea of having a daughter to hopefully follow in her footsteps, no matter how much you've tried to tell her that they might not even like football.
Your wife weren't having any of it.
"What if she wanted to be a Spurs fan instead?" You asked with the purpose of trying to wind your wife up.
Leahs' sweet smile is quick to turn into a menacing scowl, "Over my dead body will my daughter support Tottenham," she scoffed, like words were venemous.
You couldn't help but let out a loud laugh in amusement for your wifes' sudden change of mood, the discussion of different footballs team was always a sure subject with Leah if any team other than Arsenal was mentioned.
"Listen here, baby Gooner," Leah spoke directly to your belly, which made you giggle in amusement. "You have Arsenal running through your blood, your a Gooner through and through," she continued to speak to your unborn daughter, which always got the same reaction that you always got, a handful of kicks' as soon as your baby heard Leahs' voice.
"I think she definitely took notice of your words," You joked with your wife playfully, smiling at the connection that your wife and daughter already had. "The way she is kicking, I wouldn't be surprised if she does decide to become a footballer though," You commented.
"That's my girl," Leah grinned and placed a gentle kiss on your exposed stomach, which yet again earned another few excitedable kicks from your baby girl inside of you. "See? Baby Gooner, through and through," She added.
At first the nickname baby Gooner had been a silly nod to Leahs' persuasion for your unborn daughter to become an Arsenal fan just like her Mummy, however, as soon as the rest of your wifes' team mates heard it, they were all quick to cotton on calling the baby that name and it had just stuck ever since then.
You'd both decided to keep the name for a secret now, something for just you and your wife to only share.
You were both very excited for the day that you would finally be able to meet your baby girl, but of course you savoured all of the memories of your favourite times where your wife would place her hands on your stomach, being able to feel the tiny kicks and movement from your baby girl, a constant reminder of the precious life that was growing inside of you.
The nine months hadn't exactly been the easiest roller coaster, full of hormonal mood swings, horrific morning sickness and pregnancy cravings that had your wife up and out at all hours of the night, but you both know it'll be worth it the minute that you meet your baby girl.
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It's the middle of the night when you woke up and feel a dull ache, spreading through your body like a silent alarm. Shifting in bed with soft groan, the discomfort was growing stronger with eaching passing moment.
You only knew it meant one thing, it was time.
"Le," You whispered, shaking your wife awake beside you from her light slumber. "I think... I think its' time, it's happening," you stuttered out.
Leahs' eyes snapped open, panic flooding her senses as she was quick to bolt upright in bed, "What?!" she exclaimed, her heart was pounding in her chest. "Now?!"
"No, next week. Yes now," You couldn't help but sarcastically comment, letting out a hiss as the dull pain started to become a little more intense than before. "It's time, Le," you repeated.
You watched as your wifes' began to race into action and shoot up from the bed, her eyes darting around in a sudden panic, "O... Okay, just stay calm. It's gonna be fine, just... just breathe, love," she told you, despite having everything prepared and ready for this very moment, the reality of it was hitting your wife like a tidal wave right now.
"Le," You sat in the bed and looked at your wife amusedly, one hand was resting on your very swollen pregnant belly and the other was videoing your wifes' initial panic, you wanted video proof of this to look back on and laugh when it was needed, "I'm fine here, alright? My contractions are still quite far apart, so we don't even need to leave to go to the hospital yet, so just stay calm, okay?" you told your wife, trying to ease her own panicking.
"Right, of course, you... you're right," Leah ran her hand over her hair before she settled back down on the bed, "So, do we just wait until its' time then?" she questioned.
"Yes, we just wait until then. Why don't you stick the kettle on and make us both a hot drink?" You suggested, hoping that while your was downstairs that her anxiety would ease up more.
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In the hushed intensity of the delivery room, Leah stood by your side with your fingers interwined in hers in a tight grip as the final moments of your labour drew near, "I... I can't, I can't do this!" You cried, panting loudly as the beads of sweat glistened your brow and your breath had become short as you pushed through each contraction.
"Almost there, love," Leah murmered, your wifes' voice a soothing balm in the chaos of the moment, "You're doing amazing. I'm so proud of you,"
"That's it, Y/N. That's it, I can almost see the head," The nurses' voice spoke aloud as she could see the head of your daughter from where she stood, "That's it, almost, Y/N. I just need one final push," she instruced.
Leah let out a gasp and tears welled up in her eyes as she set her eyes on your daughter, "She's almost here, love," she whispered in awe.
"Just one final push, Y/N," The midwife in the room repeated, "You're doing great, just one more push and your daughter will be here," she told you.
With all of the energy you could muster, you pushed one final time and it felt like the room seemed to hold its' breath, the anticipation was thick in the air until it was broken by the ear-piercing wail of your newborn daughter that sounded like a sweet melody to you and your wife right now.
"Congratulations, Mommies," The nurse smiled widely, cradling your newborn daughter in her arms before she placed her down gently in your own, "You have a precious baby girl," she added.
You had longed for this moment that you felt your daughter nestled against your bare skin, you let out tears of joy as you felt that instant connection between you both, "Hi, baby girl. I'm so glad you're here now," You whispered quietly, your daughter looking back at you with big wide eyes.
Tears continued to well up in Leah's eyes as she watched the scene unfold before her, her heart swelled with pride and love for you, who had just brought your new baby girl into the world.
"I love you so much," Leah murmered in awe, leaning down beside you as she pressed a gentle kiss against your forehead, "You did it, love. She's here and she's perfect," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion.
"She really is perfect," You whispered back, peering up to your wife with a tired smile, but no matter how exhausted you felt, nothing would change how happy you felt in this moment, there was a sense of overwhelming amount of love and wonder for the little girl that you currently had cradled in your arms.
"I hate to interrupt the moment," The nurse smiled warmly at you both, her eyes crinkling with kindness as she looked between you and then your wife, "Would you like to cut the unbilicol cord, Mum?" she asked your wife, her tone gentle and inviting.
Leahs' own heart fluttered with a mix of emotion and nervousness at the question, glancing at you to seek a sense of reassurement in your eyes that it would be okay, "Is that okay?" she checked with you to make sure it was alright.
You squeezed your wife's hand to reassure it was okay, "You've got this, Mummy," You whispered, noting the name you'd both decided on for each other, Leah would be Mummy and you would be Mumma.
Your wife grinned and turned back to look at the nurse, "Yes, I'd love too," she agreed, taking a deep breath to steady her nerves.
With a careful guiding hand from the nurse, your wife gently took the scissors and prepared to make the first cut as her fingers trembled with nerves.
As the blade sliced through the cord, a rush of emotion washing over you as you watched the intimate moment between your wife and newborn daughter, watching as the nurse carefully finished the proccess, your heart swelled with love for the tiny life that you had both brought into the world together.
"I'm so proud of you," You told your wife with an exhausted smile, peering down to look at your little girl resting on your chest before you looked at your wife, "Do you want to hold her?" You whispered the question, almost afraid to disturb the sleeping newborn on your chest.
"I'd love too," Leah nodded in agreement and with the nurse's help, she delicately placed your little baby girl in your wifes' arms.
Watching the moment made your heart swell even more, the first time you saw your wife holding your newborn daughter for the first time would be a memory that would be etched in your memory forever.
"Hi there, I'm your mummy and I'm so happy to meet you, baby Gooner," Your wife cradled your baby girl in her arms as she smiled down at her in awe, "We waited a whole 9 months to meet you but every single minute was worth it now that you're here, and I love you so so much already," she whispered, not taking her eyes of your newborn daughter.
Gently moving to take a seat beside you on your hospital bed, Leah sat with the baby nestled in her arm with her other free arm was wrapped around you, "I'm so in love with you, I love you both so much," she whispered quietly, the two of you just staring lovingly at the tiny bundle wrapped up in a blanket.
Your wife was right in her words, you had waited a long nine months to meet your little girl, but damn it was worth every minute now that she was here in your arms and you were finally a family of three.
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leahwilliamsonn and y/nwilliamson posted
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Liked by liawaelti, lottewubbenmoy & 98,203 others
leahwilliamsonn: my wife and i would like to introduce the newest baby gooner to the world, remi delilah williamson 👣❤️
my heart is so full of love for our baby girl and my amazing wife right now, I love you both so much! ❤️
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© scribblesofagoonerr
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duuhrayliegh · 2 days
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equal and opposite (consequences, pt. 2)
a/n: first of all, yall really showed out with the comments and reblogs on the first part of this so THANK YOU SO MUCH like i haven't written anything that i felt was good in months so to have such an overwhelmingly positive response to that post felt amazing!!!!
if you haven’t read part one, i highly recommend checking that out first!!!!
anyway, i hadn't originally intended for this to go anywhere else, but as i've said before bartender!bucky & peanut just wouldn't go away so here we are!!! i hope this lives up to the expectations and if we want more PLEASE LET ME KNOW I LIVE TO PLEASE
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“Can you please just sit down? I don’t understand what’s happening to us!”
“That’s the problem!”
He throws his hands above his head out of exasperation. They land on his hips as their new resting place and he levels you with a frustrated glare. A glare. Apparently, you’re not worth the energy it takes to filter the emotions from his tone or expressions. That luxury must be saved for his plethora of mistresses.
“You don’t understand me anymore!”
“Understand you?”
Going home has become harder and harder. Despite desperately wanting to fix your marriage, it seems your efforts might have been in vain. No matter how hard you try, your husband has made every effort to avoid having a real conversation with you. To say you’re at your wit's end would be generous.
“Yes! Coming home to you is too stressful for me. I’m in the office all week and then I come home to a wife who doesn’t put in any effort to make herself desirable for me.”
Your jaw dropped, as did the wooden spoon in your hand. His words float through your head on repeat. That voice you used to love, the same voice that vowed to always love and cherish you in his wedding vows. Now, you’re cooking for a man you don’t know.
“Then why stay with me? If I’m so clearly not what you want, why stay?”
There’s a drawn out silence that is accompanied by softly heaving breaths and the simmering pot of homemade spaghetti sauce.
“You’re what I want in a wife. You just don’t understand my needs in the way that Shelia does.”
Your blood boils. Shelia—the latest girlfriend in a string of girlfriends. How dare he? You turn to the stove and begin clicking everything off. You fume while gathering your purse and keys to a home that you no longer feel welcome in.
“This is why I didn’t want to get into this. You’re too emotional and I knew you’d play the victim whenever I’m suffering too!”
You roll your eyes, refusing to engage because you’ll only hurt yourself more. Instead, you pry the door open and slam it shut before trekking off down the hallway.
You don’t have a plan, all you know is that you need to get out. You’re lucky that you were wearing a hoodie and jeans whenever you started getting into it with John. It’s not the first time that you had to get out, so you’ve learned over the past few months.
Wind whips against your cheeks when you exit your apartment building. You pull your hood over your head and start walking aimlessly. You reach for your phone and dial the first number you think of.
You never stop walking, street lamps lighting the sidewalk with a pale yellow light. There’s an irritating sting starting behind your eyes that you refuse to acknowledge. You don’t have to listen to the trilling of the phone line for long before it’s interrupted.
“Commando’s. How can I help you?”
The music in the bar is loud enough that you can clearly make out Steve’s divorced dad rock playlist. A rush of relief shoots down your spine and you breathe a sigh while enjoying the subtle ambiance through your phone speaker.
“Hello?”
It’s only then that you realize you’ve been on the phone for the past thirty seconds without saying anything.
“Bucky?”
“Peanut?”
“Hi, uh--I didn't have your number and I didn't know who else to call."
"Hang on, Peanut. I'm here, hang on." Suddenly the music is reduced to a bouncing bass line. "Are you okay?"
You continue walking, breathing in the stale air of the city as you debate your answer. For the most part, sure, you're okay. You’re not physically harmed in any way, just a deep emotional hurt that persists through the stark cold of the air around you. But if someone looked twice, or you spend more than half a second around someone you're comfortable with, that answer wouldn’t hold water.
"The wheels, Peanut, I can hear them. I need you to answer me. Are you okay?"
Bucky's voice is soft and grounding. Your heartbeat starts to match the steady baseline of the bar's music.
"I'm okay?"
Bucky's soft laugh echoes through the phone speaker, "That sounded like a question more than an answer, Peanut." He then pauses and sighs, "What did he do now?"
You suck in a sharp breath, debating on how to answer his question. The lead weight that had previously settled in your stomach begins to lessen as you hear Bucky’s voice.
On the one hand, Bucky has become the person you feel the most comfortable with. You don't have anyone close to you in the city because you moved out here to support John's career. Your family is on the other side of the country, and it's not like you've had a whole lot of time to build a support system here.
On the other, Bucky didn't sign up for this. He didn't sign up for a broken wife that isn't even his! You have no connection to him outside of becoming a regular at his bar and forming a possibly misguided attraction.
“Peanut? Come on back to me."
“Sorry, Buck. I just—“ you trail off, not entirely sure how to handle yourself.
“Don’t worry about it, Peanut Butter.” You laugh softly at the lengthier version of your nickname while he continues talking. “Look, how about we meet somewhere so we can talk?”
“Aren’t you working tonight though? I can just come to the bar.”
No matter how appealing Bucky’s offer is, you don’t want him to risk his livelihood for you. You aren’t worth that, not really.
“Not anymore, Pea. You’re more important to me. The guys here can handle the bar while I leave to take care of my Ps and Qs.”
You giggle again, unsure of where he comes up with these iterations.
“There she is.”
The words are murmured low, as if he was just speaking to himself. As if it’s a remark not meant for public consumption, just a murmur of his adoration.
“There’s a little hole in the wall on 115th and North. It’s called Winnie’s. Meet me there and you can talk for however long they’re serving coffee.”
"Don't diners always serve coffee?"
"They sure do. And Winnie's is a 24-hour diner. Which means," There's a loud shuffle on his end of the phone and then his voice cuts through. "you can talk to me for as long as you want, Peanut."
"Thank you, Bucky." You aren't as loud as you meant to be, but you know he hears you when he hums before you end the call.
Shoving the phone in the pocket of your jacket, you search for street signs.
And now you stand in front of Winnie's, a sixties diner straight off a movie set. Bright neon illuminates the street below, bathing you in a turquoise light that you're sure is not at all flattering. The front door is encased in chrome and vinyl covers the seating throughout the restaurant.
You push through the front doors and spy a large jukebox on the left side of the building. There's no host stand, so you peer around the seats in search of your bartender.
"Welcome to Winnie's. hun! Just take a seat, we'll be right with ya!"
An older woman yells from behind the bar top. Her graying hair is pulled into a neat bun at the base of her neck and you're just about to read her nametag when you hear a familiar voice.
"Peanut! This-a-way!" Bucky stands from a booth in the corner, grabbing your attention and everyone else in the restaurant.
A bright blush colors your cheeks as you make your way to his booth in the corner. The linoleum floor of the diner becomes increasingly interesting the closer you find yourself to Bucky. To be completely truthful, you've never seen Bucky outside of the bar, so this is a jarring, but welcome experience.
He's still wearing those annoyingly large boots and tight white shirt that never fails to distract you when you're sitting on the twirly bar stools. His metal arm is on full display, the gold in-lay catching the light as he twists a straw wrapper into a tight spiral.
Bucky stands to greet you once you reach the booth, leaning toward you and wrapping you in his warm embrace. Your breath catches at his sudden body heat, but you waste no time in curling your arms around his torso.
"This might be the dumbest and most obvious question, but," he pulls back from the hug and gestures toward the seat across from him, "how’re you doing?"
A stifled laugh escapes as you settle into the worn vinyl seat. Instead of answering, you pull a less-than-convincing smile that you know Bucky can see right through. Evidenced by the fact that he laughs sarcastically at the look of it.
"Yeah, thought as much."
"It's just all becoming too much, I think."
An older woman brings two coffee mugs to the table, gripping a half-full coffee pot in her other hand. You stop yourself before you divulge anything in the presence of strangers. You don't need to burden another random stranger with your problems, Bucky is more than enough.
“Who's your friend, Jamie?"
Bucky smiles while introducing you to the woman. He extends the same courtesy to you, placing the name of the woman in front of you.
"Peanut, this is Winnie. She's the owner and operator of Winnie's diner."
Bucky pours a healthy dose of sugar into your coffee mug and then drops a spoon into it before pushing it across to you. You're in the middle of taking a large sip of the hot drink when Bucky continues talking.
"She's also my mother."
“Oh!"
He laughs as you sputter, completely phased by his nonchalance about introducing you to his mother. To be fair, you don’t really know Bucky outside of him being a great listener and mixologist. Winnie laughs and talks with the both of you before politely excusing herself to take care of her other customers.
“Your mother?”
Bucky leans forward and locks eyes with you.
“I’m so sorry. She wasn’t meant to be working today, but you would have met her one way or another.”
There he goes again, that dizzying nonchalance that bleeds into every word he speaks. Your mouth opens to speak, but you're still in a state of stunned that has you stumbling on your words.
"I'm just kidding, Nutter Butter." Bucky laughs and you hum while picking at your cuticles.
"Sorry, just took me by surprise."
"Clearly."
Bucky glances at your hands that are resting on the table and shifts around his side of the booth. There's a brief moment of silence as you mull over what Winnie has said.
"Did she call you 'Jamie'?"
Bucky lets out a loud laugh. One of those laughs that sounds like the feeling snuck up on everyone, including the person laughing.
"That's what you focused on, Peanut?"
You're smiling more in the past five minutes with Bucky than you have in the past five months with John. Bucky stops shuffling and then removes his coffee cup from the saucer it sits on. He slides the tiny plate toward you as you talk.
"Thank you for meeting me, Buck. Like I said, I think I'm just getting too tired of his bullshit. He really came at me today with the attitude that this is all my fault." Bucky nods as you continue speaking, "As if I'm the one who asked for an open marriage."
Bucky reveals a Ziplock bag and dumps the contents of it into the saucer in front of you. You're just about to start a rant when he nudges a salty shell into your hands. You glance down for half a second before getting the ball rolling.
"John asked for this! He's the one that's causing all this... this turmoil in our relationship. I haven't gone on a single date! I haven't caused a single issue. All I've been trying to do is understand things from his point of view, but he won't even give me the time of day to do that. I can't even suggest something like marriage counseling because he runs out the door the second he sees me enter a goddamn room."
You stop to take another long sip of your coffee while Bucky sits back and lets you rant at him across from yet another counter. You can see him chewing on the inside of his cheek, clearly holding back from saying something.
"I don't even know what to do anymore!" You huff and shove your hair over your shoulder. "What do you think?"
"Do you want my honest opinion or do you want me to just be here for you?"
"I want you to be you."
"Okay." Bucky nods, you crack open yet another peanut and place the shell on a napkin next to the plate. "I think you should start considering divorcing ol' Johnny boy."
"I can't do that."
Your response is immediate. Too quick to be healthy really. The shell of the peanut cracks between your fingers, revealing the salty perfection inside.
"Alright, divorce is off the table. How do you feel about separation?"
"No."
"Why?"
"It goes against everything I was raised to believe. I was brought up under the idea that the person you marry is the person you stick next to no matter what."
"Even when that person isn't extending the same courtesy?"
"I just--" You sniffle, peeling open yet another peanut. "I just want to be loved, Bucky. I don't understand what I did to make him look for love and affection from someone other than me."
Bucky reaches across the table and covers your hand with his, rubbing his thumb against your knuckles soothingly. You found yourself in this same position three months ago. It was when Bucky first told you of his interest in dating you.
To be perfectly honest, you were about two slow blinks away from folding into his arms then. Nothing's changed. You're still half a second from completely melting for the man before you, but you can't get over the fact that you're married.
"Peanut, you may never understand his reasoning. Especially when he won't sit down and explain anything to you. I think you should do what's in your best interest. If you don't want to divorce or separate, then you need to surround yourself with people who will give you that love and affection that you need."
A soft lull coats the pair of you and you allow your eyes to lock with Bucky's. What you find there shocks you.
Pity is something that you never, ever want to experience, but with a shitty situation like your marriage, you've come to expect it. Every time you glance in a mirror or catch your reflection in a store window, or even a puddle of water, you find your own eyes layered with that sickening sadness that accompanies self-pity.
However, in Bucky's clear blue eyes, you find nothing but determination. Determination for what is the question you're now faced with. In all reality, Bucky has no dog in this fight. He has no reason to be helping you the way that he has. Bucky's expressed interest in you, sure, but that doesn't constitute going to the lengths that he does.
"I just want you to be happy."
"Do you think you could make me happy?"
"Absolutely."
You nod while popping the last peanut into your mouth and wiping your hands off on your jeans. You stand unceremoniously and then hold your hand out to Bucky. He stares at your outstretched hand in half-baked shock and then jumps at the opportunity.
"See ya later, Ma! Love ya."
"Will you be home for family dinner?"
"Nope, gotta take my Peanut to the ballgame!"
Bucky rushes you out of the diner and pulls you to a heavy-looking motorcycle. You laugh as he pries open one of the saddlebags on the bike. He reveals two helmets, one white and one black. Both have sleek features with a face cover that reflects Bucky's sharp features.
"What?" His laugh that follows is full of nervous energy as you continue to laugh. "What's so funny?"
"It just--" You snort quietly, "You would drive a motorcycle."
"Oh yeah? And why's that, Peanut Brittle?"
You wave your hand as if you're circling his whole body and shrug while smiling your ass off.
"You just gestured to all of me."
You both break into a fit of laughter, only for Bucky to break it off and unclip the chin strap of the white helmet.
"Well, does safety also fit with..." he does the same gesture as you, "all this?"
Bucky gently rests the helmet on the leather seat of the motorcycle and then leans over to you.
"You might want to pull your hair back. Trust me I love your hair down, but whenever you're riding it's easier in the long run."
"Oh, okay." You begin to pull your hair back when you remember that your hair tie is on the counter at your apartment. "Actually, I think I'll suffer the consequences."
Bucky glances at you and then asks, "You need a tie?"
He prompts you to turn around and he quickly coaxes your hair into a neat ponytail at the base of your neck. You turn back to him with wide eyes, your hand reaching back to check the hairstyle.
"Come on. I've got plans, Payday! I've got ideas to romance ya!"
You laugh while Bucky beams and puts the white helmet over your head. Once it's secured, he swipes the visor up and boops your nose. You scrunch it in retaliation and he shakes his head at you. He grips the sides of your helmet and tilts your head to the side. A loud Bluetooth signal sounds and a robotic female voice informs you that the device has been connected.
"So, basic rules of the bike. I lean, you lean." He taps on the side of the helmet he just fiddled with. "This is a microphone, so we'll be able to communicate without the visors being up. Don't be afraid to squeeze if you feel a little wobbly. I promise I can handle whatever you give me, Peanut."
You flush at his words, thankful that you're already wearing the helmet so he isn't privy to the bright red coloring overtaking your cheeks. Bucky slips on his own helmet and mounts the bike in one smooth motion. His hands glide to the handlebars and then he turns to face you and jerk his head in the opposite direction.
You release a deep breath and give yourself a mini pep talk before placing your hands on Bucky's shoulders. The difference between them keeps you grounded as you swing your leg over the back of the motorcycle. His voice shoots into your ears, a breathy fuck me that wasn't meant for your ears.
"You ready?"
This question is at a normal level, and you respond in kind. The bike roars to life beneath you and you jolt toward him, arms immediately wrapping around his waist tightly.
"Hold on tight, spider monkey."
You giggle and interlock your fingers above the waistline of his jeans. Now, you can feel every breath he takes, every minuscule contraction of his muscles from every movement he makes to control the beast between his legs. You try to take steady breaths in order to control your heartbeat and match Bucky's, but the faster he goes, the faster your heart beats against his back.
City lights blur past as you find your rhythm behind Bucky. The more comfortable you get, the looser your grip becomes around him. He takes you through downtown with all the newer, hipster restaurants inhabiting the busy streets. Bucky begins to slow and you look up to see his profile illuminated under the bright red of the traffic stop.
His feet rest on the ground beside the bike, holding it upright while it rumbles idly. Bucky leans back into you, his hands moving from the handlebars to your thighs. He traces the skin that's exposed by the rips of your jeans. The loose material allows just enough space for his fingers to burrow beneath and trace meaningless patterns into your skin.
Butterflies make themselves known in the pit of your stomach, along with another slightly less prominent heat building at his touch on your skin.
"We're almost there, Peanut Brittle." Bucky's voice is melodic through the microphone. You could fall asleep listening to him read a phone book.
The bike thunders to life again as Bucky releases the clutch. More buildings fade as he continues to steer the two of you down the less traveled streets.
"Where are you taking me?"
"Somewhere fun!"
He laughs at your little groan. Surprises aren't necessarily your favorite thing, but if it's Bucky, maybe it'll be tolerable.
Suddenly, Bucky drops his right hand from the bars and indicates his next turn. The pair of you lean in that direction slightly as he slows into a parking lot of a roller rink. The sign for the Rockin' Roller Rink has a bright yellow arrow blinking toward the building at the base of its billboard.
He rolls into a parking spot near the entrance and pops the kickstand out to steady the bike. You peel yourself off of his back and rest your hands on your thighs while taking in your surroundings. Bucky slips his helmet off and then turns his torso to face you.
"As much as I love you on my ride, Peanut, you have to get off first."
You flush red beneath the visor and quickly dismount. However, in your rush to get off, you don't realize how unstable your legs are as they bear your full weight after the ride. Bucky's hands shoot out to your waist as he remains on the bike, a wry grin on his lips.
"Sorry, should've warned you about that." He stands in front of you and dusts off your shoulders before deciding that you're okay. "It's because of the riding position when you're on the bike. If you aren't used to that, it can be a little jarring the first few times."
He takes your helmet and then removes the keys from the ignition. Bucky bends at the waist and hooks his key carabiner to your belt loops.
As he straightens to his full height, he remarks with a wink, "Plus, the vibrations don't help much either."
You squawk unattractively and smack his chest with the back of your hand while he belly laughs. His metal hand hovers over your lower back as he guides you into the double doors of the roller rink. While he pulls open the door for you, you think about all the times that your husband has failed to do even that act of basic decency.
You shake your head as you walk in, determined to put him out of your mind. That is until you remember the one stipulation of your open marriage--you both have to disclose when you go on dates. Your mind drifts to all the unanswered texts he's sent you about his various dates. Little quips that accomplish nothing but remind you that your husband sees you as less than. A relationship that he no longer has to put effort into and hasn't for some time now. You take your phone from your back pocket to shoot John a quick text, a sour look overtaking your face as you do.
On a date, be home later. You’re quick to swipe your phone onto do not disturb and shove it back into your pocket. You aren’t ready to face the hypocrisy that John will manage to cook up.
"You okay, Peanut?" Bucky's voice clears everything. All the swirling doubt, the immense turmoil that you feel when you think of John, everything negative is wiped when you focus on Bucky.
Perhaps that's also an issue. Maybe you need to be single instead of dating. Maybe you need to love yourself before anyone else can effectively love you. What if that's the real issue? The real reason why John had to seek affection outside of your marital bonds. Maybe it was because you were so unloveable to the point that it was more effort to work through your issues than find an effortless partner somewhere else.
A cold finger taps your temple causing you to blink harshly and refocus on the man before you. This man who's become your safe haven, your harbor in this horrific storm that is your marriage. The man who brings peanuts to his mother's diner because you called him to meet up. The man who knows you better than your husband who you've known for half your life.
"The wheels," your bartender reminds you as he pulls you to the side of the room. His arms envelop you until all you can process is biceps, one cold and one warm. Bucky's cheek rests against your head and you can't find it in yourself to stop from melting into his touch. "How about this," he shifts away from you just enough to meet your eyes, "you just take it one hour at a time?"
"One hour?" You ask, brows furrowing skeptically at the concept. You've never been someone who just focuses on the thing in front of you. Your whole life you had a plan--get married, have kids, and secure a stable home life. Although, now that you think about it, your way isn't really that effective. What has your way got you? A decaying marriage, no kids, and a job that you tolerate at most.
"Just one at a time. Nothing can be that daunting if it's one at a time." He smiles big and leans forward, "And let's face it, your first hour is going to be spent watching me almost bust my ass on rollerblades."
You giggle and look at the ground, only for Bucky to lift your face up with a finger on your chin. He stares deep into your eyes, making you think if you stare long enough, you'll meld into one. His grip changes so that most of his fingers cup your jaw, allowing his thumb to trace your bottom lip. His metal finger tugs downward on your lip, releasing it from the hold between your teeth.
"That's definitely one of my current favorite noises you make." He struts off to the front counter, you trailing behind with a confused look on your face at his dopey smile. The implications of his comment seeping into your bones causing a deep heat to light in the pit of your stomach.
As you approach the teller, Bucky's already disclosed his shoe size for the rental pair of skates. The teenager behind the counter makes a bored grunt at the instruction and turns to you, waiting for your size before they trot off to fill the order. Once again, you're left alone with your bartender.
You lean against the raised platform, shoulder digging into the overhanging lip of the counter. During this brief moment of solitude, you take your time taking in Bucky. He really is a mountain of a man, coming in at six-foot-five inches of corded muscle and steel, he's really nothing less than impressive.
His hair just brushes the top of his broad shoulders, though you hardly ever see it down. He always manages to have it tied securely at the base of his neck. However one time, you remember walking into the bar only to see Bucky behind the bar, as usual. Except his hair was bundled on the top of his head. Little wisps of hair fell from the looser hold, framing his forehead and neck. On top of that, he was wearing a red henley that was at least two sizes too small with the sleeves rolled up, showing off his differing forearms in the dim light of Commandos.
It's safe to say that during those few hours you spent with Bucky looking like that, you were a little slower to respond. What's interesting though is that Bucky looks nothing like John. You always thought that John was your ideal man. Based on who you married, you would have assumed you'd be more attracted to Steve than Bucky. Instead, you find yourself lacing up a pair of rental roller skates, that might give you athlete's foot if you're not careful, with the imposing dark-haired man next to you.
"Why bartending?"
The question floats between you as you take the floor. Glistening hardwood reflects the bright neon of the strobe lights and your image beside Bucky. You watch as he glances down at you before refocusing his attention on the path in front of him.
"Well, if I'm being honest, I kind of stumbled into it." He wobbles dangerously as he speaks, hand jutting out to grasp yours in an act of safety. "Shit, sorry." He apologizes sheepishly but makes no move to drop your hand.
You giggle beside him, butterflies awakening from his act of self-comfort, a feeling you haven't felt since your relationship with John began. Bucky squeezes your hand, straightens his back, and pulls you around the rink.
"When I was discharged, it wasn't so much as bartending as it was the ownership of the bar. It gave me a chance to gain some semblance of control back." He stares off into the distance as he speaks as if he's reciting words he said time and time before. You peer up at him, waiting for the rest of his explanation.
Even though you've known Bucky for as long as you have, neither of you has really delved too deep into your pasts. To say you know next to nothing about Bucky's time in the military would be generous. You hum while you ponder his answer.
"Does that need carry into other aspects of your life?"
It's a genuine question, something to move the conversation along because you honestly want to know more about the man beside you. The double entendre of the question doesn't process until you see Bucky blushing beside you with a wry grin. Your eyes bulge, words stammering out of your mouth without finding their full forms.
"Oh-- uh, n— that's not wh--" Your eyes drop to the ground beneath you, the sleek wood reflecting the neon disco of the roller rink lights.
Bucky chuckles beside you, slowly rubbing his thumb against the knuckles of the hand he still holds. He steers the pair of you to the side of the rink, locking you against the slightly sticky bannister with his strong forearms. You quickly level him with a questioning stare as he leans forward and takes a deep breath, undoubtedly getting a strong whiff of your soft vanilla and cherry perfume.
“I’m trying to be very good for you, Peanut. So I’m going to say this once and then we’re going to continue with our date and it isn’t going to come up again until you bring it up yourself.” Your nod is almost imperceptible, but considering how Bucky continues without consequence, you figure he was just mentally preparing himself for his next comment.
“I am enamored with you. I want to have sex with you. I have fantasies that revolved exclusively around you. However, I’m not putting any pressure on this relationship or you. I understand that you need time to process your grief and your marriage, but just know that I’m more than happy to help you through the process and I certainly hope that I’m the first one you go to once you get to a place when you feel confident enough to explore your sexuality.”
You flush at his words, a hot streak racing up your spine before settling in your cheeks, blossoming them into a heavy shade of crimson. Bucky’s left hand comes up to your forehead, brushing away a strand of hair out of your face.
“But not only that, I want to have a relationship with you. I want the late night cuddles. I want the early morning breakfasts. I want to come home from the bar and take a shower with you. I want to wash your hair. I want you to massage my shoulders after a long day. I want to host Saturday barbecues with you for my family and our friends. I want to drive you to the bookstore and regret driving the motorcycle after you get so many because I just can’t say no to you.”
Bucky’s hand drifts down your arm, tracing the soft skin, taking his time to lace his fingers with yours. He pulls you away from the ledge, leading you two into the hustle and bustle of the roller rink. A smile stretches across his features as he tugs you along, a slow steady silence backed by the bumping base of the house music. You fumble with who to respond to him, but you eventually decide that no words are necessary. You know that yiu’ll be able to discuss things further later, you allow yourself to fall into the comfortable company that is your favorite bartender.
Time passes by at a rate you aren’t able to fathom. One moment you’re skating circles around Bucky, laughing as his arms jut out to his sides, steadying himself as he sways and wobbles. You flit out of his reach for a beat only for his arms to wrap around your waist, bringing you to his warm front. You squeal as you clutch his arms, the difference in temperature providing a level of comfort that you’ve been craving for months now.
You tilt your head back to rest on his shoulder, his long hair tickling the apples of your cheek. Soft puffs of air hit your face as he peers down at you, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips. He remains stoic, only his eyes giving you any indication that he wants more out of your current embrace.
“Attention all Rockin’ Roller Rink patrons, the rink will be closing in ten minutes! Please return all skates and other rentals to the front desk before leaving.”
The voice over the loudspeaker startles you causing you to jump in Bucky’s embrace. He tightens his hold on you, ensuring that you don’t topple over on your wheels. You breathe out a heavy sigh creating a slight distance between you.
“Come on, let’s go.”
Bucky is quick to follow you to the benches on the side to you could change your shoes so you can return the skates. You’re sure to take out your phone from your back pocket before sitting down. Against your better judgement, you swipe across the screen to turn off the silencing option. The screen illuminates and dozens of notifications flood the screen and you cringe. You shouldn’t feel bad, yore only doing what constitutes an open marriage. You sent the text, that was all that was required of you, and let’s be honest even that was more than what John deserves. Bucky leans back, shooting a glance at your now busy phone.
“Wow, he sure doesn’t miss a beat, does he?”
“Yeah, I’m sure everything he’s texted me the past two hours has been entirely supportive and not at all condescending or hostile.” Sarcasm bleeds into your words, making Bucky chuckle under his breath.
“Oh, ol’ Johnny boy? Nah, he’s nothing but a big old softy who knows that he’s only getting it as good as he’s giving it.” You huff at the comment just as your phone begins to buzz on the tabletop.
A groan leaves your mouth, slipping out before you can filter it. Bucky eyes you as your finger swipes the call button to accept. You haven’t even gotten the phone to your ear before John’s voice carries through the speaker, shouting expletives and derogatory remarks about you.
“Are you fucking kidding me? You’re on a fucking date right now? I can’t believe you!”
Your whole body cringes, and you rush to shove your shoes on to take the call outside. You leave without saying a word to Bucky, unable to look him in the eye while the supposed love of your life berates you over the phone.
“John, I don’t know what you’re upset about.” You tried to remain calm while he carried on. “I followed the single rule that you set in place.”
Bucky takes your free hand and leads you to his bike, leaning against the seat while he watches you pace in front of him. Your once smooth features are now ridged and tense, worry lines aging you ten years the second you get on the phone with John. Your forefinger and thumb find home on the bridge of your nose, pinching the bone there to prevent the sudden headache. You finally stop in your tracks, stomping your foot out of exasperation and then steel your voice.
“I refuse to allow you to speak to me this way, John. You’re the one that opened our marriage, I’m simply following the precedent that you set. I honestly have no idea what your issue with this is.” Your eyes dart to Bucky, “Now, I don’t feel comfortable coming home when you’re speaking to me like this over the phone, so don’t wait up. I’ll come home when you cool off.”
Tears begin to rim your lash line as John continues to shout his lungs bloody. You refuse to meet Bucky’s eyes as you lower the phone, thumb hovering over the end call button. A dark metal palm extends your way, a silent ask for the phone that you don’t have the strength to deny. Bucky watches you as he brings the phone to his ear, listening to your husband’s rant.
“This is completely fucking ridiculous! You’re my wife and I demand you come home and we talk this out like adults. You’re being so unreasonable, right now. And the fact that you think it’s acceptable to text me you’re on a date instead of asking if you could go on one? Who the fuck do you think you are? It’s best you remember who you belong to. You’re so in for it whe—“
Bucky laughs, your head shoots up, eyes locking with his for the first time since you’ve evacuated the roller rink. The laugh is a short, sardonic laugh. One you’ve never heard him make before, almost as if he’s using it as a throat clear. Your breath catches in your throat, knowing how John reacts to being challenged in any capacity.
“Now, I don’t know who you think you are, talking to my Peanut the way that you are. But I’ll tell you one thing for damn sure, you aren’t going to be speaking to her that way ever again.”
It’s another thing about Bucky you’ve never experienced. His tone. It’s dull, lifeless, but full threats that made your skin grow cold and your spine stiffen. You knew Bucky would never cause you harm, but those who hurt the people he loved? The same respect isn’t extended.
“And who the fuck is this?”
“I’m the guy.”
He’s eerily calm, the type of calm you’ve never seen him. You’ve been a distant onlooker while he deals with rowdy bar guests, having to throw out drunk customers who reached their limit and then some. But this… this was something else. John is still yelling, sure to be disturbing your neighbors earning you yet another noise complaint, possibly the one that gets you evicted from your apartment.
“What guy?”
“The guy that’s going to rip your spine out through your throat if you threaten my girl again.”
The world stills. The noisy streets of Brooklyn fade as you search Bucky’s eyes for any semblance of a joke. His eyes have darkened, latching onto yours with a depth that you’ve never seen in them. He reaches for you, pulling you in between his legs by your belt loop. You can hear the stammering on the other end clearly, John’s never had anyone stand up to him with such sincerity.
“If you’re done being a pussy, I’m a little preoccupied. If you’d like to continue this conversation, you may do so anytime at my bar. Howling Commandos. You can Google it and me in your free time. Right now, I’m on a date and you’re interrupting it and disturbing my girl.” Bucky’s hand snakes around your waist, pressing his chin to your chest while maintaining eye contact with you. “Now, apologize to her.”
He switches the phone to speaker mode, allowing you to hear the weakness invading John’s voice. All the while, Bucky’s eyes never leave yours. Your body melts into him, his warmth something that you didn’t realize you were craving. John stammers on his end of the phone, eking out excuses as to not apologize. Bucky clears his throat once more, the action causing his Adam’s apple to bob against your breasts.
“Apologize, Johnny boy.”
“I’m sorry, Y/N.”
Three monotonous beeps echo out into the silent parking lot. Wind whips against your cheeks, igniting a shiver through your body. He shoves your phone into his front pocket before wrapping his other hand around your waist. Bucky shifts again, pressing his forehead into your stomach instead of staring up at you. Your arms come up around his shoulders, burying your face into his soft hair.
“Thank you.”
Bucky says nothing in return, squeezing your middle before pulling back to meet your gaze.
“Let’s go, you can stay at mine.”
He pushes against your hips so he can reposition himself over the bike. You’re quick to stop him, remarking something about him just taking you to a hotel for the night. He cuts you off before you can fully finish your sentence.
“I’m sorry Peanut, but you surely don’t think I’m about to let you spend the night at some sketch hotel by yourself. And I’m certainly not going to let you go back to that apartment with that temperamental skeeze of a husband you have.”
“Let me?” You back up, resting your hand on your now cocked hip.
“Peanut.” Bucky stares up at you, “I didn’t mean it in that way. I’m sorry. I’m only saying that I want you to be safe and I don’t feel comfortable leaving you in either of those environments. I would be much for comfortable if you came home with me so that I could protect you.”
You shoulders relax, in the back of your mind, you know that he didn’t mean anything by it. John always sets you on edge, and it’s unfair of you to put those emotions onto Bucky.
“You’re right, I’m sorry. It’s just… John.” Your sentence trails off, no ending really needed because you know that Bucky understands.
“Come on. Get on, Peanut Butter. We aren’t far from my place.”
You mount Bucky’s bike, his left hand immediately going to your thigh, his fingers threading themselves between the rips of your jeans to feel the soft skin of your knee. The ride to Bucky’s apartment is quiet, the rumbling of the motorcycle beneath you is powerful and steady. Every chance he got, Bucky would slip his fingers into the rips of your jeans, aching to be close to you in every way possible. You lean forward, resting your helmeted head against his back while he drives.
If there was one thing that you never would have guessed, it’s that Bucky Barnes would have pale green wallpaper in his apartment. Not just a pale green, he proudly declares that it’s agate green, the color he spent weeks painstakingly debating between that and nurture green. You giggle as you toe your shoes off at the front door, quietly taking in his personal space.
The exposed brick melds with the dark countertops in a way that’s almost soothing. The pendant lights above the island cast a soft glow over the open floor plan. Bucky turns to face you, peeling off his leather jacket and hanging it on a hook beside the door. You catch his eyes, only to be distracted by the wall of bookshelves on the far end of his apartment.
“Oh my god, Bucky I had no idea you were so interested in reading.”
He laughs, shoving his hands in his front pockets while walking behind you as you approach the stacks of books he has scattered throughout his home.
“I’ve always enjoyed reading. When I was deployed there wasn’t much to do other than read. I had my Ma send me all different kinds of books, from new releases to her favorite classics to stuff my little sister was reading in school.” He stands beside you, shoulder to shoulder as you glance up at him. “Guess I never kicked the habit, though there are worse vices that a person could have.”
You hum, refocusing your attention on the books, but only for a second as Bucky reaches his hand out and leads you up the stairs to the lofted bedroom. Bucky’s comforter matches the green walls that sits behind his TV. Not only that, but his pillow cases vary from overly fluffy to soft silks. The mixture of textures and fabrics is almost too much for your brain to comprehend. You’re about to question it when Bucky returns to your line of sight, a dark Henley in one hand and a pair of boxers in the other.
“I don’t have any pajamas for you, but you can wear these.”
He’s almost sheepish as he presents you with the clothes, a light blush casting over his cheeks. It’s so interesting to interact with him. At times, he’s the most suave man you’ve ever met, and at others, it’s like he’s a lovestruck teenager who’s just got their first girlfriend.
You thank him and follow behind him as he leads you to the en-suite bathroom. Just as Bucky begins to explain where everything is, he bends down to the bottom cabinets and retrieves a spare toothbrush.
“Planning for extra company, huh?” You joke while poking him in the side as he stands next to you in the doorway.
Bucky’s tongue peaks out of his mouth, his teeth catching on his bottom lip as he stares down at you. His eyes do that thing again, the same thing he did just before he laid out his feelings for you earlier. Your breath catches in your throat, is he leaning closer? Are you inching toward him? What are you doing?
“Bucky,” the tension breaks, a dam of emotions behind held back by your dedication to your marriage. “I feel like I should explain.”
His hands rest on your shoulders, quick to silence your worries. He leans forward, dotting a quick kiss to your forehead. Bucky lingers, the soft press of his lips shoots warm and fuzzy feelings through your bones.
“Tomorrow. You’ve had a long night. We can talk about everything in the morning.”
A weight of anxiety lifts from your shoulders as you watch Bucky begins descend the stairs, lush blankets and pillows in hand. You turn back to his room, allowing yourself to sink into his private space.
You peel back the duvet and sit on the edge of his mattress, unsure if you should fully dive into his being. If you’re quiet enough you can hear Bucky downstairs, shuffling on the couch in an attempt to find a comfortable position.
Your eyeline floats over his bedside table, the lamp atop it casting a pale yellow glow over the entire room. The surface next to you is covered in items that are unequivocally Bucky—a worn copy of Journey to the Center of the Earth, a leather bound journal, the few gold rings that he something adorns his digits with while bartending. His rings clink against each other as your fingers drift over the cold metal.
Among his assorted objects is your phone on his charger. The light pink case is slightly out of place, but not enough to be obnoxious. You smile to yourself while lying back in his sheets.
You really do owe him an explanation. Bucky deserves more than some broken woman who’s in a shitty marriage. He deserves the world and then some. All you can offer is a somewhat clear thought process.
You think on John’s actions today. He really showed you his true colors. You start to wonder if he really cares about you or if just cares about having a wife. If it’s the second one, why does it have to be you?
You flip to the other side, now facing the back wall of windows. Your mind is about as calm as the city right now. New York is never quiet, even this far out in Brooklyn. You’re never safe from the light pollution that constantly blocks out the beauty that is the natural night sky.
It makes you long for your hometown, the wide open spaces with vast fields of nothingness that stretch for miles on end. Maybe it’s time you pay it a visit. It would be nice to escape the hodge podge of a life you’re currently living.
Squeezing your eyes shut, you force yourself to slow your breathing. Distantly you can hear Bucky begin to snore, a low monotonous sound that you cling to. For the first time in months you feel secure. Your muscles decompress, your brow unfurls and you allow yourself to truly relax.
With everything that’s going on, Bucky deserves more. You deserve more, but that can all wait until tomorrow.
Tomorrow. That’s a good thought.
186 notes · View notes
littlexdeaths · 2 days
Text
precious - e.m.
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y2k eddie munson x girly reader
18+ ONLY MDNI
warnings: oral (fem receiving), fingering, spitting, eddie is a menace… but a cute one.
opposites attract masterlist
word count: 1k
a/n: another repost from my opposites attract series. i missed our feral, goblin boyfriend. so i hope you all enjoy xx.
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He’s been in between your thighs for the better part of an hour, Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers now long forgotten in the background.
You had gotten Eddie the box set earlier that day as a surprise gift. So of course, your boyfriend wanted to spend the whole day having a movie marathon. And you were more than happy to oblige.
But the only problem was you.
You in your short pleated skirt and pink top that seemed to leave very little to the imagination. You were driving him absolutely crazy, despite not meaning to.
The brunette somehow managed to make it through the first film without caving. But each time you shifted positions, your cotton candy perfume would engulf his senses completely. Reminding him how sweet you were, and just how bad he’d missed tasting you.
So could you blame him for being too distracted to appreciate the gift?
After popping the second film in the dvd player, you joined him back on the sofa. The darkness of the room concealing the boner he’s been struggling with for the past three hours.
So when his hand started drifting up your bare thigh, you didn’t think anything of it. That is until his fingers began tracing the outline of your panties, snapping the elastic against your skin.
His head dips, lips grazing against the shell of your ear.
“We wants it, we needs it…”
Eddie’s voice had dropped an octave, gravely as he did his best impression of the creepy, crawly creature from the film.
You lightly smack his shoulder as he starts laughing, the sound filling the small room. But once he sees the look on your face he settles, nuzzling his face into the skin of your neck.
“Alright, alright I’m sorry, sweetheart. Let me try that again,” he hums as his lips trail further down to your collarbone, nipping lightly at your skin.
A small gasp leaves you as he begins sucking, tingles shooting straight to your core.
“Wanna taste you, doll… can I?” He asks, his voice just as deep as before— but the silliness of the previous moment is gone.
Only desperation laces his tone as his fingers slip underneath your panties. The male groans at the wetness he finds, the sound leaving you a little breathless.
“Please,” you whine, lips jutting out in a small pout.
That’s the only answer he needs before he’s detaching himself from you. Grinning mischievously as he slides off the sofa, working himself between your thighs. Your panties are removed almost haphazardly, making you giggle at his eagerness.
Eddie quickly tosses your legs over his shoulders, diving in immediately. Despite how eager he seemed, he slowly dragged his tongue through your soaked folds. Your boyfriend wanted to take his time, to savor each and every drop you were giving him.
Flash forward to almost an hour later, your fingers are tangled in his dark curls as he continues to lap at your overly sensitive cunt. Eddie was being a tease, getting you closer and closer to the edge before slowing down again.
It was his turn to drive you absolutely crazy. While simultaneously turning you into a needy mess under his skillful tongue. He suddenly pulls back for a moment, the glow from the tv highlighting the juices smeared across his chin.
The male gathers some of it on his fingers, eagerly sucking the digits into his mouth with a deep growl.
“Mmm, my precious.”
Before you have time to scold him he’s back between your thighs, a crazed cackle leaves him as he sucks harshly on your clit. Eddie eagerly slips those same fingers that were just in his mouth, back inside you. He curls them up to brush against your sweet spot, causing you to cry out as he increases his pace.
Any semblance of taking things slow is now thrown out the window, as he licks and sucks at you like a starved animal. Your fingers find their way back into his hair, nails digging into his scalp.
“That’s it, such a good. fucking. girl.” He growls each word pointedly, thrusting his fingers in tandem with his vulgarity.
Your walls clench harder around the digits due to his praise, greedily grinding your hips down against them. A whimper escapes you as he leans back, spitting onto your already soaked pussy. But he doesn’t give you much time to process as his tongue begins to mix his salvia with your slick.
He slides a third finger into your tight heat, the sounds of your arousal now over powering the film still playing on the television. Your body is buzzing as your thighs begin to tremble around his head.
“Squeezing me so tight, baby, fuck. You gonna cum for me?” His voice is muffled as he puts more pressure on your swollen clit.
And in that moment, you can’t find the words to answer him— only a high pitched moan leaves your lips.
Eddie chuckles against you, the vibrations bring you that much closer to the edge. Your hips begin to buck up wildly, desperate for that promise of release.
But your boyfriend is quick to force them back down with his free hand. Preventing any further squirming as he drills his fingers into your needy cunt, taking everything he’s giving you in stride.
“Gimme all your cum, sweetheart,” he groans deeply, finding yourself unable to hold back anymore.
After being edged for the better part of an hour, your body convulses as you finally fall over that precipice. Crying out his name repeatedly as he continues to work you through the most intense orgasm he’s ever given you.
Your body suddenly slumps against the sofa, completely spent. A soft whine leaves your lips as you tug on his disheveled curls to lift his head. His dark eyes lock with your half lidded ones, that mischievous smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Eddie gladly crawls his way up your body to press a sloppy kiss to your lips. You can taste yourself on his tongue, your juices now smeared across your chin.
You can feel the sticky, warm denim of his jeans pressing against your thigh. The sudden realization has you giggling into his mouth.
“Mmm,” he hums, “Precious is pleased?”
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jgracie · 2 days
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⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ SPEED DRIVE!
ferrari driver!percy jackson x fem!reader
masterlist | rules
warnings one swear word!
on the radio . . . speed drive (charlie xcx)
percy knew it was a bad idea leaving his house without at least a pair of sunglasses to conceal his identity. he was craving cookie dough ice cream, the grocery store wasn’t too far away and it was the middle of the night - who would possibly recognise him at a time like this?
the answer is many people. while percy did love his loyal fans, both tifosi and others, even he had to admit they were a little crazy. all it took was for one to snap a photo and post it on twitter and the rest seemed to immediately spawn all around him
“percy, is it true that luke might lose his seat next year?” he heard one voice say as he attempted to weave through the thick crowd of people. why couldn’t he have one second of peace? unfortunately, percy had made another awful decision that night - walking to the grocery store
this left ferrari’s golden boy with two options: either tough out the wall home with fans and paparazzi alike swarming him, or find someone who was willing to drive him home. with cars on the street in front of him were stationery thanks to the red light, percy made his decision
he bolted for the first one that caught his eye, a car that was small, (ironically) bright red and most importantly had an open roof. percy also had to admit the driver was kind of pretty, at least from what he could see from that far away
the light turned yellow and you prepared yourself to continue driving. you’d only recently gotten your drivers license and this was your first time driving without someone more experienced with you in the car, so you were just praying to end up at your apartment in one piece
just as the light became green and you began to drive, some random guy jumped into the passenger seat of your car, causing your heart rate to increase dramatically and your foot to immediately press on the brakes - out of shock or fear (or both), you weren’t sure
“drive!” he nearly yelled at you. you just stared at him, your mouth agape. it was way too late at night for this. at your state, percy huffed and leaned over to the wheel, beginning to steer for you
this snapped you out of the daze you were in and you slapped his hands away, your brows furrowing in anger as you drove, “who the fuck are you and what do you think you’re doing in my car? i’m pulling over right now, you need to get out.”
“no, please, i promise i didn’t mean any harm! can you just drop me off at my house?” he asked. you didn’t need to look at him to know he was incredibly desperate. who was this guy? as you recalled his face from when he first got into your car, you realised he did look a little familiar, but you still couldn’t figure out his identity
at your silence, percy continued, “i’ll do anything, do you like car racing? i can get you tickets for that!”
okay, so he was rich rich. you didn’t know the first thing about racing, but one of your friends was obsessed with formula one. specifically, a driver called peter jameson (or something along those lines). still, you rolled your eyes at his offer, disliking the way he attempted to bribe you
“no, it’s fine, you don’t have to do anything. where do you live?”
after percy told you his address, the car ride was silent. neither of you knew what to say to the other. you were still shaken by his sudden appearance, and percy was trying to conceal the blush that coated his cheeks. he was right, you were beautiful. the moon made your skin glow and your eyes brighter. from the death grip you had on the wheel, percy could tell you were new at driving. cute
“thanks a lot, you have absolutely no idea how much you helped me tonight,” percy said as he got out of your car. part of you was a little sad to see him go. sure, he freaked you out, but something about him was magnetic - maybe it was those sea green eyes that put all of poseidon’s oceans to shame, or the light dusting of freckles you hadn’t noticed until now
giving him a small smile, you said, “you’re welcome. have a good night.” you stayed for a little and watched as he entered his home, a bittersweet feeling tugging at your heart
once you’d gotten home, you noticed he’d left something on the passenger seat. a strip of paper with a line of messily scrawled numbers lay on the leather
call me. (917) 173-1839 — PJ
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missmugiwara · 2 days
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That Was Nothing
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Summary: gn!reader x Gojo // Satoru wants a kiss. Won't you give him one? Oh, pretty please? He's been soooo good.
Warning: 18+, suggestive, smutty, some dubious consent (in the form of kissing), flirting, sexual tension, friends to lovers, sweetheart as a pet name
Note: Once again, the love of my life is insufferable. AND I ONLY WANT HIM MORE.
✦ Word count is 2.5k ✦
"Come on. Just one."
It would be a lie.
A complete and utter lie to say you weren't dumbstruck.
Swiftly, you whipped your head around so fast to face Satoru Gojo it was almost dizzying. The perfect set of lips upon your face parted, breath hitched in your chest, and then you remembered - breathe. Remember to breathe. A heat erupted against your cheeks, and you could only stare with dilated eyes at the sorcerer before you.
Gojo tilted his head to the side innocently and let out a small snicker. He continued on.
"Just one kiss!"
The pleasant smile on Gojo's face was soooo adorable which only made this all the more embarrassing.
He just wanted a kiss.
His words replayed in your head so tantalizingly. Immediately, your eyes bolted to his own set of plump lips - immaculately pink and heaven-sent themselves. Somehow, those lips always seemed to be shining. And they always looked so soft.
So good.
So yummy.
It didn't ever matter what Gojo was doing. He literally looked perfect all the time without even trying. It always stunned you. But come on, you were much stronger than this - or at least you hoped, especially when realization hit that you had been staring for too long now. So in a fluster, your eyes darted from his plump lips to his blindfolded eyes.
"Satoru… come on! Really! You can't do this to me right now!"
If one thing was for certain, it was that Satoru Gojo loved to tease - and loved to tease you more than anyone. It went without saying the man was an expert at it. You were seated at your desk, scrawling away at some paperwork when Gojo nonchalantly waltzed right into the classroom. In a rather proud manner, he strode right over and took a seat on top of the desk. He flashed a cheeky smile (and perhaps a hungry gaze as well, but the blindfold made that difficult to determine). The way Gojo sat with such hubris, towering above you, was as if to make one thing apparent.
You were in for it.
And Gojo never let you go without a good fight. Plus, he was too clever and too fast. Always one step ahead.
For a moment, he stilled to study your frustrated state. He hummed in thought, tapping an index finger to his pink lips before a smirk upturned the corners of his mouth.
"Oh, I see!" he cooed, crossing one leg over the other, "You were looking right at my lips weren't you, sweetheart? I just meant a kiss on the cheek! You're so... bad."
Your cheeks went hot.
Why did Gojo have to talk like that? With the sexy lilt? The slight growl? His voice alone could make you a fumbling mess especially with the way he drawled out bad in such a tone. Gojo was practically the definition of alluring. He was that and so much more. He made flirting look way too effortless, and it amazed you how easily he could seduce you. Did Gojo know how easy it was? He surely must have. In this moment, you had never wanted to slink down your chair so badly in a fit of swooning (and maybe out of pure humiliation as well). How could you let Gojo catch you staring at those pretty lips of his?
It was no fair!
"I wonder," he tilted his head to the side, "how many times have you done that before?"
He was just so damn full of himself.
You gasped. Playfully, you slapped Gojo's arm with a wide smile etched across your face. So much for trying to look mad. Honestly, it was hard to. If you slipped up even for a second it would only fuel his ego further, but unfortunately that ship had already sailed long ago. It didn't help either when he snickered as soon as he registered your smile. He only grinned further, proudly sitting upright again.
"You are such a flirt, Satoru! Stop teasing me!"
"I can't! You're just too cute!" he purred before pausing in thought again, "Now - I found your car keys so don't I deserve a little reward?"
He revealed your car keys, proudly swirling the keyring around his index finger to tease you more.
"A reward? For stealing my keys?" You grinned haphazardly, stepping up from your seat.
In a futile attempt, you reached out to snatch them back. Quickly, Gojo enclosed his hand around the keys and uncrossed his legs to get the momentum he needed in order to lean back. In fact, it was so far back that you both misjudged the spacing between your bodies. Gojo chuckled when you whined at him to stop moving. You slapped your hand on the desk next to his thigh, sliding it past as you tried so desperately to gain balance. It was to no avail because you only leaned further when he pulled farther away.
You both froze.
A heat rose to your cheeks, and a dangerous smirk grew on Gojo's lips. You were perched right between his spread thighs, and he was nearly on his back if not for one hand holding him upright at an angle. If either of you had moved a tiny bit further, you most definitely would have slipped and landed headfirst onto him. The position was already suggestive enough, and the way your groins pressed together reminded you of the close proximity to this beauty of a man.
Gojo's voice was low and breathy, his smug tone so quiet in the air.
"Is this part of my reward?"
Smoothly, ever so smoothly, Gojo did the smallest roll of his hips against yours. Your breath caught in your chest at the heated pressure applied against your lower half. A fire spread throughout your body. His lips were so close you could almost taste his smirk. Immediately, when his hot breath fanned across your mouth again, you practically flung yourself against the nearest wall. Your heart was thundering in your chest, eyes bugged wide, and Gojo laughed wildly because your expression was beyond what he expected at this point.
"It's - it's not!"
Gojo then cackled, giving the keyring another taunting swirl around his finger as he sat up straight again.
How did this all happen?
Well, as usual you rushed into a staff meeting late and flung your belongings down without thought. So of course, for the umpteenth time, you threw a fit when you realized you could not find the damn car keys after the meeting ended. All because you weren't paying attention!
It never helped that Gojo was such an ass. Of course, he was always the one to find where they landed. And of course, he picked them up and clung to them like his life depended on it.
Usually.
Today he tried something a little different.
It was a whole ordeal. As soon as you walked into the room, Gojo flew up from his seat and glided over - exclaiming the meeting could not start until he got a hug from his most intelligent, wonderful, loving friend in the whole world. This overly affectionate display caught you and everyone by surprise. What an unneccessary interruption. A bit weird too, as quirky as he was. You carefully eyed Gojo because it all seemed a tad suspicious. More importantly, what did he want from you (because clearly there was some sort of ulterior motive from the compliments)? So based on everybody staring and you being blatantly late, you decided to just give him his hug and get the meeting on track. Just get it over with. No more embarrassment in front of colleagues, please. Without a care in the world, your arms wrapped around Gojo for his hug.
And then he snuck his hand right into your coat pocket to snatch your keys.
When he revealed them only a moment ago, that's when you knew this was another one of his little games. This time, the game being how to get a kiss from his most intelligent, wonderful, and loving friend in the whole world. God, he was lucky you were so… loving because loving people forgive their asshole friends, right?
"Then can I still get a kiss?"
Of course he said that next. In response to Gojo's question you pouted, giving a small grumble as the answer - no. But that wouldn't stop him from trying. It would never.
"Please? Just a little kiss. Riiiight here." he tapped his cheek, a smug smirk at his lips.
You irked an eyebrow at him.
"After that little stunt?"
"Oh, please, please!" he cried out so facetiously, dropping to his knees and hobbling over to you. Your eyes widened in shock, not expecting such dramatic behavior from the sorceror.
His hands grabbed your hips. He gave them a small shake whilst adorning an overly obvious smile. He could have nearly made you fall, but his playful gestures made you realize this was all just an over-the-top act. An attempt to butter you up by getting you to laugh. So you crossed your arms and boredly looked down at Gojo, fighting the urge to laugh. Gojo now had his arms flung around your waist, his chin pressed into your abdomen as he cutely gazed up at you in this hug.
A second more to think, and a teeny tiny smirk graced your features. Two could play at this game.
"Hm… the mighty Satoru Gojo on his knees?" you giggled, "Mmmm, I think I like that."
"Oh, you like it when I beg, huh?"
If only you had more time to think of a witty response. Shoot, he was damn good.
"…Maybe."
"Keep this up and that's not the only thing I can do that you'd like, sweetheart. Maybe later we'll switch places if you ask nicely."
Your jaw immediately dropped. As usual, Gojo got in the last word, and you had no idea how he kept winning.
"Satoru!"
"You know, I kind of like it when you're a brat."
"Oh, gah - please! At least you're having fun."
"You are too, sweetheart."
His smile never faltered, not even for a second, and his arms were still wrapped around your waist. An obvious pout was at your lips because he was right again. Gojo was flirty and fun, and you were enjoying this. A moment passed as you two just wordlessly stayed in place: a competition seeing who would break first.
Of course, you were the one to break first because you threw your head back and laughed. After all, Gojo was always pulling shit like this, and you always tried to pay him back in kind. He asked for kisses countless times. One thing you could not grasp was why did it catch you off guard every time? Why did it always feel like the first time he ever asked?
You also had to admit you loved indulging Gojo and giving in to his oddly charming ways. After all, he was an old friend. One of the closest friends you ever had especially when you both started off as sorcerers long ago. Oh, the stories you could tell about this man flirting with you. So what was a small kiss on the cheek between two old friends?
Unless.
You kept it up because you so badly desired to be more than friends. But what about him? And he kept asking for a kiss - so what did that mean from him? If only you could think straight. At least for the time being, you could indulge him and yourself. It was a harmless kiss on the cheek after all.
"Fine. But just this once!"
"That's what you said the last time, and the time before that, and the time before -"
"I could just leave! I'll walk home! Do you want it or not?"
"Ooooh yes, please! Very badly!"
"Then get your ass on my desk."
"Didn't know you were into that. Be gentle with me! Oh, should I bend over?"
"Just sit on it!"
As if your face couldn't burn any hotter than it already did. Gojo always made you break the record every time. It was surprising enough that you assumed it could never happen again.
He instantly jumped up (a bit too eagerly) and took a seat back on the desk. This was the easiest way because he was so damn tall. He hummed in response to your smirk, giving a cute little dance of his shoulders. Quite adorably, he leaned his cheek in for you to get a better reach - for him to finally claim his prize. A prize he won so many times. So you brushed your fingers very slowly and very sensuously along his jaw, gently cupping his face in your hand.
"Oh, you are making my heart race right now!"
Another gasp followed by a bashful grin, and you pulled away just as your lips were to touch his cheek.
"Stop it, you're embarrassing me!"
"Ugh, I love it when you whine! Does things to me!"
"Oh my god, Satoru! I am going home!" You released his face from your hands, about to storm off when the sorcerer grinned again.
Gojo firmly caught your wrist midwalk and effortlessly pulled you back toward him. You nearly tripped, forgetting how strong he was. When you were situated and facing him once again, you did a soft tug of your arm as a signal for the provocative man to let go. Gojo only pouted and pulled you again, but harder this time. And this time, you did end up tumbling into him as he caught you - staring at him angrily before you both broke out into laughter.
"Alright, alright! I'll be good!"
Gojo being good? Yeah, right. Could you really trust him to keep his word? You squinted your eyes at that, only to be met with Gojo beaming confidently which was your weakness.
So you let out a quick sigh before stroking the side of his face once more. You puckered your lips, slowly leaning in when -
Gojo turned his head quickly.
So so sooo very quickly.
In doing so, his lips touched yours in the most innocent of kisses. Just a small peck. It was gentle, it was sweet, it was so fast, and it stunned you nonetheless. A tiny smack noise from your lips meeting and parting echoed in your brain on replay. There was a delayed reaction on your part, save for your face heating up, because you stood there completely frozen as he adorned the biggest shit-eating grin.
All a part of Gojo's plan.
"Satoru!" you breathed, fighting an ever-so-obvious grin, "You… you naughty thing!"
Satoru Gojo was bold. It was always just a kiss on the cheek! He had never done that before. He cackled in response, twirling the keyring around his finger once more. Oh yes, and he still had not given those keys back.
"Naughty? That was nothing! Oh, we could get much naughtier next time. Prefer some tongue?"
Oh my god, was he serious?
The way you just stood in stupefied silence made him prattle on.
"No need to be shy now!"
Just when you thought he was done, he always went the extra mile. When he chuckled at your flustered expression and lack of response, he lowered his tone.
"Prefer something a little more than just kissing?"
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mindmelter · 2 days
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The Janitor: Fernandez's body
I work as a Janitor at a gym, but that's not my real job, I just use the job as a Janitor to get easier acess to the prime meat, and by prime meat, I mean hot muscular men. There's no better place to harvest them than at the gym's locker room.
It's been a while since I've found a perfect specimen like Fernandez. He's tall, broad-shouldered, and he has a nice package.
I've been watching Fernandez for a while now. He's always here, every day at the same time. I've studied his habits, his working out routine. I know when he showers, when he changes. And today, I've decided it would be the day I turn him into my next wearable bodysuit.
I watched him walk to the locker room, his body covered in sweat. I followed him and as soon as I entered, I saw him taking his clothes off, he was ready to take a shower. I smirked and quickly put a sign outside the door, written "Do not enter: Men's locker room closed for cleaning"
I took a small technological gun device out of my cart and pointed it at Fernandez. However, I soon realized that I had forgotten to reconfigure the device since the last time I used it. Before I could fix it, Fernandez noticed me.
"Hey, what the fuck are you doing?" He shouted, walking towards me, and before I could activate the device, he quickly punching me in the face, making the device fall off my hand. He continued kicking me and calling me names. But I managed to reach for the device and pulled the trigger, this time hitting him with an orange glowing ray, making the man fall to the floor and start to deflate the second he was hit.
I was a little angry at him for the bruises, so I stomped on his face and abs to empty him faster. As the process finished, I took a step back, admiring my handiwork. Fernandez's body has been reduced to a sleek, form-fitting bodysuit, his every curve and muscle preserved. I couldn't help but feel a surge of power and desire course through me as I reached out and touched the bodysuit, running my fingers over the defined abs pecs for the first time.
That's when I noticed a tiny orange slime crawling out of his mouth.
I smirked and grabbed the tiny goop between my fingers, if you looked closely you would see it moved very slowly like a slug. I usually flush them down the toilet, but I would need this one, so I put it on the floor as I knew it wouldn't go anywhere. I then grabbed the deflated skin from the floor and walked inside a shower stall — Just for precaution.
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After I took off my uniform, I grabbed the empty muscle husk by the head and admired his body, specially his big package that even without anything stuffing it inside it was still huge.
With a satisfied grin, I slip the bodysuit on, for last, when I put his head over mine, I looked in the mirror. But it didn't looked natural, I just wasn't as fit as Fernandez, I didn't had big muscles to fill his skin. Some parts looked too stretched like my belly and face, and my dick only stuffed half of his huge shaft.
But this could be fixed. I grabbed the device, changed the settings and shoot the ray at myself — This time a blue glowing ray fired from the device.
I felt a tingling sensation as I watched in the mirror my big belly starting to disappear and instead form abs and big pecs. The skin that was once stretched, now started to grow muscles to the sizes that they were originally. I was looking just like when Fernandez entered the showers.
I changed the settings of the gun one last time and pointed it at the tiny goop on the floor. Once I fired the blue ray at it, the goo started to grow and started to shape itself into a human body: My original body.
It looked exactly like me. And it just kept standing there, looking at me with a blank face.
"Put on the janitor's uniform and clean the locker room, then go home and stay inactive until the next day, when you will return to work." I commanded.
"Yes Master" My copy responded with a blank face expression, it was actually the essence of the real Fernandez, only now he was turned into a mindless slave goo that could take any form that I wanted. He would cover as me while I was out having fun in Fernandez's body.
"But before, I want you to turn into a red underwear"
"Yes Master" The 'janitor' said and started to shrink and change its color, until it was nothing more than a red underwear on the floor. I grabbed it and put it on. It looked really good on me, so with Fernandez's phone I took a photo in the mirror.
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I decided to put his sweaty gym clothes back on and return to the main gym. It was really hot to work out my new muscles while wearing the real Fernandez.
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Bait and Switch. || Scammer!Reader x Victim!Ghost
Rating: M Words: 2.6K~ Pairing: scammer!Reader x victim(but not really)!Ghost CW: phone scams/conning (reader never actually cons him), financial issues?, threats (Simon threatens to find reader), degradation?. other tags: crack, OOC Simon., you/your pronouns (gn!reader but uses a female fake name), obviously fake names (pun/funny), lying, joking, the weirdest meet cute? a/n: this started out as a joke/crack and turned serious/dark at the end? idk how i did this.
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Simon Riley would say that being legally dead is the best thing to have happened to him and that's because it allowed him to escape a bunch of responsibilities that regular men have to uphold.
He gets paid covertly, in full, and does not have to pay taxes on his income.
He rented a flat from a sweet ol' lady, who didn't run a background check or ask for a copy of his birth certificate (terrible choice on her part), and he pays her by dropping an envelope of cash in her mailbox on the 1st of every of the month.
He not only is old enough to drink but also sounds and looks old enough as well, which means he doesn't need I.D. to buy alcohol (not that any shops or bars really care enough to check).
He doesn't have a credit card. Or a debit card for that matter. Hell, he doesn't even have a bank account, so he doesn't have to pay maintenance fees.
He doesn't have a smartphone. And up until recently he only had a pager. In fact, the only reason he doesn't have a pager anymore is because it got shot in the crossfire during a mission... so Price forced him to get a jitterbug.
In short... Simon Riley can escape a lot of things (death, taxes, Philip Graves...). But telemarketers and phone scammers are not one of those things.
That's how, on a boring Wednesday afternoon, his new phone ends up ringing, like it had been doing multiple times a week for the last four weeks.
Telemarketers.
He never got telemarketers on his pager.
He hated telemarketers.
But that didn't mean he blocked them-
"What?" He answered as soon as he picked up the phone.
An automated voice came over the call, one of those typical Siri-esque robot voices, delivering a prepared speech: "Congratulations! You've won a free cruise to the Bahamas! To claim your prize, press 1."
Oh, now, this was different. He didn't need to hear more to know it was a scam call. But that didn't mean he was going to hang up.
So Simon pressed key 1, which caused a beep to sound over the call.
"Thank you!" The automated voice continued. "We are now connecting you to a live operator to claim your prize!"
Barely a millisecond went by before you took over the call. "Good afternoon, this is Stella Gormoni with Blissful Blessings Inc.! Who am I speaking with?"
As stereotypical as it is, Simon had expected a different voice on the other end of the line... maybe from a scammer in a foreign country who'd speak heavily-accented English...
But instead, he got a sweet and professional sounding person... It almost made him second-guess the scam that was being pulled on him.
His mind moved quick at coming up with a fake name. Not just a fake one, but a pun one too. "Wanh'a, first name Aiden." He replied, his gruff voice reverberating on the call.
"And how do you spell that?" You asked him politely, and, through your headset, he could hear your keyboard keys clacking in the background.
"That's A-I-D-E-N." He replied as he entered his kitchen, spelling his first, as if that was somehow what was causing you difficulty.
"Uh-huh!" You acknowledged in a peppy tone. "And... your surname?" You asked him.
"W-A-N-H-'-A." He continued spelling as he crossed the small kitchen, hearing your fingers tapping away at your keyboard in his ear.
For a moment, you didn't talk, as if stunned into silence. Had you just picked up on the fact he was trolling you by giving you a name that, phonetically, sounded like 'I Don't Wanna'? Probably. But you hadn't hung up yet.
"Well, congratulations, Mr. Wanh'a, you just won an all-inclusive, two-week long cruise to the Bahamas!" Your peppy tone made him bite his lip to contain a laugh. Well, at least you were dedicated in continuing the scam. "How are you feeling?"
"Very well, and yourself?" Simon asked casually as he leaned himself against the door of his refrigerator, leaning down to look inside and find a snack.
"I'm doing very well, thank you, sir." You replied in a cheerful tone. "So, let's process the information so we can get you your prize, shall we?" You announced in a polite tone.
"Go right on ahead, sweet'eart." He murmured as he grabbed a yogurt and closed the fridge with his hip, sitting at the table and peeling open the lid.
"Well, for us to start, I'm going to need your-"
"Actually, I have a question, before we start." Simon interrupted your speech, cutting off your silver-tongued lies.
You went silent for just a moment before you replied with a sweet little: "Of course, what can I help you with, Mr. Wanh'a?"
"I want to know how exactly I signed up to receive this prize." Simon replied before he placed a spoonful of yogurt in his mouth.
He was trying to accomplish two things by doing this: 1) throw you off your game and make you stammer and stutter, and 2) see how long it took for you to get annoyed, and hang up on him.
"Well, that's what I was going to explain, you see-" You replied, a smile behind your voice, but his trained ears could pick up the slight frustration. It made Simon smile.
"Oh, then, I'm sorry for interrupting you, sweet'art, please go ahead." He replied and gestured with his spoon, as if giving you the stage, unnecessarily so, because you were not there to watch it.
"As I was saying... You were entered automatically into the draw by buying a cereal box of any Kellog's cereal at Tesco. I'm sure you saw a 'Win a free cruise!' sticker on yours?" You asked in a professional and sickly-sweet tone.
He could see right through your scam, he had already done that. You name a famous brand, one people trust, to trick naive or impressionable ones into believing you...
Normal people would tell you they no longer have the cereal box, many of them naive enough to believe your scam despite the fact they hadn't even bought one of those boxes in the first place...
Next, you'd ask for the card used to make the purchase, and some people were dumb enough to read their number aloud to you...
Oh, how he hated scammers. Even more than telemarketers.
"I do remember seeing something like that..." He murmured, his voice deepening, before he popped another spoonful of yogurt past his lips, loudly smacking them right against the receiver of his jitterbug.
"Well, all I need is for you to get the box and read me the code that's imprinted on the inside of the flap!" You announced.
"Well, you see, I would, sweet'art... But my sight isn't so good anymore..." Simon replied. "I'm getting up there in age, you know?" He continued eating his yogurt.
"I understand, sir." You replied. "I'm sorry to hear that. One of my cousins also started losing his vision pretty early." You announced.
Huh.
There was no hint of forced sympathy in your voice.
No, you were being genuine. That was a real story of your life you were telling him...
But you had picked up on the fact he was trolling you, right? So why were you-
"Good thing though, about this system of ours, is that you can just confirm your credit card details so we can double check them and get you that prize!" You had, your tone right back to the scamming silver-tongue you had held until now.
Secretly, Simon had to admit that he admired your commitment to the bit. He couldn't help but smile a bit, amused.
"Oh, of course. Let me just set you down while I get my card." Simon replied and got up, finishing his yogurt and tossing out the plastic container, popping the spoon into the sink, and, after setting down his phone, he walked out of the room.
Simon glanced down at his wrist watch, noting the time on it, then, approached his bedroom door, grabbing his over-the-door pull-up bars, and began doing a quick set, leaving you to 'wait' for him in the kitchen.
After a few sets, he waltzed back into the kitchen and grabbed his phone again. "You still there, da'lin'?" He beckoned in a gruff tone.
You sighed, your politeness sounding slightly more forced. He had kept you waiting for over ten minutes after all. "Yes, sir, I am. Did you get your card, Mr. Wanh'a?"
"Oh, please, enough of this 'sir' thing, Mr. Wanh'a was my mother." He replied, then went silent for just a beat, almost like he could hear your frustration sizzling on he other end.
He was being more and more obvious with his trolling... And it pleased him immensely to imagine a parasite like you seething on the other end of the line, reaching your wits' end.
"You can just call me 'Ai', it's what my friends call me." Simon continued, a smirk forming on his lips. "And we're friends now, right? You're giving me a cruise and everythin'." He added, his tone just as charismatic and peppy as his had been.
"I guess we are!" You replied, returning the overly cheery tone. "So, 'Ai Wanh'a', then?" You asked, but he could hear the mix of frustration and amusement behind your voice.
"Yeah? What d'you want, babygirl?" Simon asked, unable to resist making a more impish remark. And, unfortunately, it had the desired result. It genuinely caused your brain to blue-screen for a moment.
Sure, you'd experienced plenty of people getting angry at you when you attempt to scam them, or even trolling you the same way this bloke was doing but...
It was definitely a first, to have someone flirt with you, even if it was still part of his trolling attempt.
"Your... credit card details?" You ended up adding, your voice still showing the surprise and light meekness that came from him catching you off-guard.
"Oh, of course. Are you ready? It's a very complex number." He replied.
"Ready when you are." You added as you steeled yourself for another smartass response or run around from him.
"Here it is: 1234-5678-9987-6543." He replied, reciting the numbers 1-9 in order and then backward. "And the three digits on the back are: 210."
Oh, he was so fucking annoying! He didn't get to troll you, even if it was pretty amusing of him to do so, then flirt with you, then go back to trolling.
"Sir, if you're not interested in the cruise, just say so. There's no need for this mockery." You replied, your tone serious and professional though you were definitely seething on the inside.
Simon could tell. And he reveled in it. "Oh, but I am interested!" He replied with a smirk behind his voice. "In fact, I want to know more. Will my cabin in the cruise have an ocean view?"
Simon heard you inhale aggressively on the other side of the line, steeling yourself not to hang up on him, or down right berating him on the phone. "Yes, Ai, of course!" He heard your fake cheeriness through your clenched teeth. "It'll be a luxury cabin, actually. Isn't that great?"
"No, it's not that great, actually. I get very seasick, you see?" Simon murmured. "Not to mention, ever since my pet goldfish died, I've just never been able to look at the ocean the same..." He added in a forced pitiful tone.
You went quiet again on the other side and Simon knew he had finally worn you out. He waited to hear the clicking sound of the call falling, but, instead, he just heard you let out a sigh.
"You're very frustrating." You murmured.
"Oh, my, is this how you speak to all your prize winners?" Simon gasped dramatically.
"Shut up... You didn't have to be a smartass, you know?!" You scolded him, as if you had any ground to stand on.
"No, I fear I did, sweet'art." Simon replied as he leaned casually against the kitchen counter. "You called me, interrupted my day, and wasted my time with a scam, of all things. I have every right to be a smartass and have some fun with it." He added, a smug tone obvious in the dulcets of his deep voice.
"Okay? You could've just hung up on me?" You were truly grasping at straws to justify your behaviour. It was comical.
Simon laughed dryly. "And waste an opportunity to annoy a parasitic leech like you?" He quipped.
That stunned you into silence for a moment and you couldn't help but pout a bit.
"Not to mention, what you're doing is illegal, you know that righ'? And I'm military, I could get you arrested for this." He added.
"For that, you'd need to know where I am." You retorted, maybe a bit bratilly. "Besides, I knew you were a soldier."
"And how did you know that?"
"You used the NATO phonetic alphabet while spelling 'your' name'." You replied directly. "Nobody spells 'Aiden' as 'Alpha-India-Delta-Echo-November'."
"So you knew I was military and you still went ahead with your little scam attempt? You're not that bright, are you?" He defied you, which earned him a scoff from your end.
"No, I already knew you were trolling me."
"Oh, so you just wanted to waste my time?"
"That's exactly it, Aiden."
"Sounds to me like you're just looking for trouble, da'lin'." He quipped, his voice having lowered to a gruffer tone.
Rolling your eyes, you scoffed. "Am not. I'm just enjoying myself. You're not the only one that can make jokes at people's expenses."
"No, you really are..." He tutted his tongue and shook his head. "Need I remind you you were trying to scam me, and other people?" He added in a tone that sent a shiver down your spine.
"I know what I was doing."
"Yeah? And are you proud of that? Proud of being a conniving little cunt who tries to take people's hard-earned money?" He taunted you.
You didn't reply. Of course you weren't proud. You still had a conscience! But you wouldn't tell him that. He wouldn't get the satisfaction of hearing you apologise.
"I see. You don't like what I'm saying, so you give me the silent treatment, is that it, sweet'art?" He teased. You could hear the smirk behind his words.
"I wonder if you'd still act like this if you had to face me and had to answer for yourself."
Closing your fists tight, you steel yourself again to gain some edge and reply to him. "I guess you're going to keep wondering then. Because it's not happening."
"You know, it's a shame your little computer spat out my phone number for you to call..." He trailed off.
"And why's that?"
"Because instead of anyone else, you got me... And that's just... really bad luck for you. Any other service member, you would've been fine..." He trailed off.
"What, are you some sort of General-Major-Chief thing, super high up the ladder?" You taunted.
Simon simply chuckled dryly on the other side of the line. "No. But I'm definitely the worst person you could've tried to play with."
"Oh, big scary man, what are you gonna do? Gonna come teach me a lesson?" You added, taunting him some more, clearly feeling comfortable behind your laptop, with your smartphone, sitting at home, comfortable and warm, with your pet at your feet. "Oh, I'm so scared!" You added, feigning fear in a dramatic tone.
"Is that a challenge I'm hearing, sweet'art? Inviting me to come pay you a visit?" Simon asked you, his brow cocking, despite the fact you couldn't see it.
You don't know what it was about the way he spoke. The way he said that. The way his voice sounded.
It sent a shiver down your spine, a cold sweat, like he was, for the first time, not joking around anymore.
"No...?" You murmured in reply, feeling your shoulders tensing in an unpleasant way.
"Yeah... That's an invite I'm hearing..." He disregarded what you said and chuckled. "Maybe I'll come pay you a visit then, hey? How does that sound, little leech?"
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darkwolf989 · 3 days
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AWWW I just read your Val & Vox with a little girl and its so so cute!! Can I maybe request a one shot of Vox as a girl's dad too? Like his daughter in life getting to hell in her late teens, and now Vox has to deal with the change in taking care of her because he only knew how to take care of her as a child before he died. Thank youu 💖💙
This request. Could have gone in SO MANY FUN WAYS! Let me know your feedback and thoughts! Enjoy- I can do a part two if you like it!!
I downed my tenth cup of coffee and adjusted myself in my chair. My head pounded and I hoped that just a few more drops of the life-giving liquid would keep the exhaustion at bay long enough to get this project done. I hit the call button on the intercom in my office.
“Charles! Another cup!” 
Ten seconds. Enough of a break. I turned my attention back to the document on my computer. 
My assistant brought in another cup right away. “Ms. Reader, don’t you think you’re getting carried away?” 
“I said coffee. Not lip. Order me a raspberry mocha from the shop down the street and have it here in exactly twenty minutes.” I responded as I continued to type. 
He bowed his head. “As you wish. Mr. Vox asked for an update. What should I tell him?”
I paused for a half a moment. “Tell my Dad it will be ready well before the deadline.” 
I looked back down and continued to type. It had been a month since I first found myself in hell. It took my father no time to locate me- though his reaction wasn’t what I expected. 
“Babygirl, you grew up.” He said as I sat across from him in his perfectly manicured office. A pained expression crossed his face. “Tell me, what did you do in your human life to land you in my office? And so young too…how old are you now? Eighteen?”
Sixteen. I thought to myself. An idea began to form. He didn’t remember my age- that could work to my advantage. After all, acting older than I was was a skill I acquired, and I was more than used to my own independence. I crossed my arms. “Eighteen. I’ve been running your company since I was thirteen.” That much, at least, was true. “What do you think got me here? Your business skills weren’t the only thing I inherited.” 
He sighed. “The same thing that brought me here. Fine.” 
He reached out to touch my face and I jerked away. He was a stranger to me, gone from my life when I was six. My mother tried to keep his company on Earth going, but she didn’t have the business skills I did. And when she passed the company fell to my hands with contingencies. Overnight I became the voice- the face of the company, running between me and the board. 
When I passed she was the first person I looked for. Not that I thought I’d find her- and I was right. She went up, and we went down. My dad and his company found me shortly after, and I wasn’t in the slightest surprised to find he was as much of a go getter down here as he was when he was alive, the sole owner of VoxTech. 
But as I sat in his office across from him, memories of him in life blossomed. Soft words. Snuggles. Hugs and kisses. All the comfort that was ripped away the day he left us, left me. 
“You’re going to need a place,” he continued. “A place to stay. A job. I can give you all those things. Keep you safe.”
My other option was the streets of hell. An unappealing choice at best. And so, I accepted the role he offered and the responsibilities that came with it. I was determined to show my father that I was a hardworking girlboss, worthy of his faith in me. 
“And send,” I said aloud as I finished the final drop of my mocha. My head felt fuzzy and my chest definitely buzzed but it was worth it. I opened my inbox. The time on the clock read ten- I had finished with several days to spare. Might as well keep going. 
I didn’t remember falling asleep, but the next thing I knew I startled awake to the feeling of a hand on my wrist. 
“Hey, hey baby girl. Take a deep breath, it’s just me.” My dad said. 
I shifted and realized he had covered me with his jacket. I tried to sit up and realized I wasn’t in my office anymore. Instead, I laid on the couch in his.
Fuck. The project. Did I submit it?
“Wh-what time is it? I’m late, I still need…” I sat up.
Vox pushed me back down. “No. You need to lay down. You’re exhausted and your pulse is really high. The doctor is on his way up to look at you. When was the last time you went home to bed?” 
Three days ago. But I didn’t want to tell him that, so instead I remained silent. Vox let out a soft chuckle. 
“You haven’t changed all that much, have you?” He asked as he smoothed back my hair. “You used to do this when you were little too. Play so hard you fell asleep where you were. I used to pick you up and put you to bed, and you were so exhausted you didn’t wake up.”
“Is that how I got here?” I asked.Throbbing pain pulsed through my skull and I closed my eyes as I pressed my head into my hands. “Ugh, my head hurts.” 
“Yeah. Your assistant found you passed out on your desk around midnight. He called me right away.” He wrapped a blood pressure cuff around my arm and hit a button. “When was the last time you drank water? Or ate anything?” Concern oozed from his voice. “I found like twenty empty coffee cups in your office.”
“I had coffee. I’m good. Lived on it back home. Live on it here.” I winced as the cuff grew tighter on my arm. “I’m fine, Dad.” 
“You’re not. And I want numbers while we wait for the doctor to get here. What were you thinking?” He placed the back of his hand on my head. “Com’on you’re smarter than that.” 
I felt my cheeks flush. “I’m not a child, Dad.”
“Maybe not anymore, but you’ll always be my baby,” he replied calmly. “So will you relax and let me be your dad for a moment?” 
I relented and let him fuss until the doctor came in. Vox stood with his arms crossed until I got the all clear. 
“Just cut down on the caffeine, plenary of fluids, and get a few days of rest, and you’ll be fine in no time,” the doctor said finally. He scribbled a few things on his notepad. “Quick question. How old are you, exactly? Because your father says eighteen, but my records show sixteen.” 
I saw Vox turn to look at me, a mix of fury and annoyance on his face. Shit. He grabbed the clipboard from the doctor and scanned the sheet. Realization flooded his face. 
“Rest and fluids, that I can do,” I said loudly as I pulled myself up to standing. “Dad, you don’t mind if I cut out a few minutes early, do you?”
Vox swallowed and looked at me. “You told me you were twenty.”
“Actually, I said eighteen.” I replied, “not that it matters.”
“Oh, it does matter.” He said, his voice laced with anger. “You lied to me.”
I shrugged. “I’ve been on my own running your company for three years. But anyway, I’m going home, Dad. See you tomorrow.” I went to walk out the door and he caught my wrist. 
“Oh fuck no. You think I’m going to let my teenage daughter waltz out of here after all this? No. You’re coming home with me. End of discussion. And consider yourself suspended from work for the time being. 
I felt myself freeze. “You can’t fire me, this is my job!” 
He laughed darkly. “Oh honey! You work for me. Consider it your punishment for lying to your Boss.” He stood up. “Let’s go. You’re not staying in that apartment by yourself. You’re sixteen.” He shook his head. “You’re sixteen.”
“Then where am I staying?” I asked, crossing my arms as unease flooded through me.
“Home. With me. Where you belong.” He said firmly as he pressed his hand to my shoulder. 
I felt myself deflate but again, seeing no other option, I let him guide me to the elevator. Three floors later, the elevator opened and I followed him into a spacious living room.
“I’ll have your things taken from your apartment and moved into the fourth bedroom,” he said as he gave me the tour. 
“I’ve been on my own for a month in hell, and even longer before then,” I protested. “I know how to live by myself.”
He stopped walking and turned his head. “Then I guess it’s about time you learned how to be a teenager then, hm?” 
Anger flooded through me. “That isn’t fair! Dad!”
Vox gave me a grin. “There. That’s a great start! But seriously, you’re grounded.”
“You can’t ground me!”
He practically puffed himself up. “You’re sixteen and I’m your dad. Of course I can. And you are.” He pushed open the door “and this is your room. You can redecorate as you please.”
I stepped inside. “Wait, this is my room?”
Easily twice the size of my little apartment, the bed alone took up the center of the room. It’s current color scheme was neutral, with huge windows overlooking the city. 
“Yeah, like I said, order whatever you want and I’ll have Velvette…”
“Aunt Velvette?!” I asked, excitement washing over me. 
“You remember her?” He asked in a surprised voice. “Do you remember Valentino too?” He leaned against the doorframe and waited for my reaction. 
I turned around. “Uncle Val? The badass mafia mobster that used to come over and toss me in the pool when you guys got tired of doing it?”
“Hey, who told you he was a mobster?” Vox asked as I continued to look around the room.
“Mom.” 
He sighed. “Of course she did. Well, she wasn’t wrong. But yes. One and the same. We met up in hell and we-“
“Continue to rule together as much as you did in life. Got it,” I replied. “Did you not tell them I was here? In the building this whole time?”
Vox shrugged. “I was hoping to get to know you a bit more before I let them know you were here. But I wanted to give you some time to settle in first. After all, I thought you were an adult. Time…time passes differently down here.”
“Reader? Is that really you?” I heard an excited voice yell from the hallway.
My head turned. I knew that voice. Velvette pushed past Vox and she and Valentino practically ran over to me. 
“Aww, my little Princessa! All grown up I see!” My Uncle Val lifted me up and spun me around like I was five. He kissed me on the forehead and set me down. 
Shock flooded through my body as I looked at them both in their demon forms. Seeing my Dad with a TV shaped head was one thing- it made sense with what he did. Aunt Velvette still looked the same but Uncle Val? He looked…scarily different. Purple skin, sharp teeth. The only thing that stayed the same was his signature heart shaped glasses. 
“Valentino, chill. You spooked her.” Velvette scolded. “It’s been what, how many years?”
“Wait- where is Uncle Al?” I asked 
My father glitched. “We don’t talk about him. Not after what he did to me.” 
“What did he do?” I asked in confusion. 
“Ah, no. Princessa. Baby. You’ll get your daddy all worked up. We don’t want or need that,” Valentino scolded.
I crossed my arms and took a defensive stance. “I’m not five. And I’ve been an adult for a long, long time.” 
“Yeah, why don’t you tell us all about that? Over dinner.” Vox said, slinging his arm over my shoulder. “After all, it’s been a long time since we’ve had a family dinner.”
He didn’t know the half of it.
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ktgoodmorning · 2 days
Text
You'll be okay
Alexia Putellas x reader
Part 4 to that awkward smile
You struggle with your concussion recovery but Alexia's there to help you.
A short little one to finish up this series!
I Part 1 I Part 2 I Part 3 I
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The morning after your concussion, you were woken up by the intense pounding in your head, just as bad as it was when you first went down on the pitch. The pain meds given to you by the physios had apparently worn off and now it was catching up with you. You instinctively had buried your face in your pillow as if it could make it all better, letting out a whiny sob that you had fought so hard to hold in. Your girlfriend was a light sleeper and was always even worse after a game day, that combined with your injury, had her barely sleeping at all that night, instantly awake as soon as you made a sound. 
You didn’t notice her wake up until you felt her hand gently running up and down your back as you cried into your pillow. Of course the crying only increased your pain but at this point you couldn’t stop. “Amor, I’ve got you, okay? You’ll be alright.” Her voice was rough from sleep, normally something that would leave you instantly distracted from whatever was going on in your mind, but not able to overcome the pain you were currently feeling, causing you to cry even harder. 
Alexia must have realized that your sudden increase in pain was due to your medication wearing off, as she quickly tried to get up to get you another dose, only being stopped by your tight grip on her t-shirt. “Don’t go, I need you.” It broke her heart to hear the way you cried for her, showing a side of you that she hadn’t seen for many years. 
“I’m just going to get you some more pain meds, I’ll be right back, I promise. I really think it’ll help, okay?” You didn’t really respond, just lightening the hold you had on her shirt so that she could get up while you continued to sob hard in complete agony. 
It felt like ages even though it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes until your girlfriend returned to your side, water bottle in one hand, medication bottle in the other. At this point you had only spiraled further, gasping for breath as you continued to make yourself feel worse and worse. Alexia knew you were struggling but had no idea how bad it was until she saw you now, somehow even more worked up than when she left you just a few minutes before. “Hey, hey, it’s me. You’re okay, you’re gonna be just fine.” She pulled you over so your head was laying on her lap, allowing her to run her fingers through your hair and try to calm you down. “See if you can take a deep breath for me, I’ve got you now.” 
“I- I can’t-” You continued to gasp for breath, only freaking yourself out more and causing you to start shaking your head quickly, as if you could almost will it all to go away. 
“Hey, don’t do that you’ll hurt yourself, amor. It’s okay, it’s okay, just look at me.” You finally opened your eyes, the first attempt you had made at calming down. “There you go, you’re doing so good. See if you can breathe with me.” The blonde held eye contact with you, taking exaggerated deep breaths in hopes that you would follow her. Her one hand remained on the side of your face, gently stroking it with her thumb, while her other hand laced her fingers with yours, letting you squeeze it as hard as you wanted to help cope with the pain. 
After a few minutes, your breathing had slowed significantly, returning to quiet cries. The second you had slightly calmed, Alexia helped you sit up so you could take your meds, trying to get them in your system as soon as possible. She had never seen you so broken before, and it had left her unsure of just how to help you, especially as she watched you continue to cry, completely helpless. “How can I help you, amor?” Her voice was much softer than you had heard from her before, filled with uncertainty once again. 
“Can you just hold me please and tell me it’ll be okay?” Your girlfriend immediately opened her arms to allow you to collapse into her chest as you still continued to cry, breaking her heart even further over your reaction. 
“You’ll be okay, mi amor. Your head will start feeling better any minute now when your meds kick in. The doctors said, this is the worst of it, remember? It’ll only get better from here, and I’m not going anywhere, I’ve got you.” She rocked you slightly, just saying anything she could think of to make you feel better. 
“It hurts, Ale.” You whimpered into her shoulder yet again as she held you tightly. 
“I know, amor, I know. But it’ll get better, you’ll be okay. Let’s see if you can fall back asleep for a while, I think it’ll help.” You gave her a slight nod, but started to climb off her lap and back to your side of the bed, causing Alexia to scrunch up her eyebrows in confusion. “What are you-” 
“Ale, I woke you up. I know you’d rather get up and make some breakfast instead of laying in bed all day, you don’t have to stay here with me.” She just shook her head at you, while she pulled you back into her arms. 
“It’s okay baby, I couldn’t sleep anyways. You know I barely sleep after games, so do you really think I could sleep knowing you were concussed next to me?” You remained silent, unsure of if you believed her or if she was just being nice to take care of you, but of course she saw straight through your silence. “Sleep. I’ll keep you safe, I’ll be right here. If I fall asleep you can wake me up whenever you want, even if you don’t have a reason to.”
You finally allowed yourself to get comfortable once again in her arms, knowing there was no way she’d take no for an answer. As you fell back to sleep, you could’ve sworn you heard her mutter a “te amo” just before you drifted off.
Last one of this series! Would love to hear any feedback or requests for what you'd like to see next!
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sugoi-writes · 2 days
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Biting back the urge to say 'fuck it' and come off anon cause I keep finding gif-sets that would work perfectly for Smutmus. I know why tumblr doesn't allow image/gif sharing while on anon, but goddammit! The visual aids do wonders for the parts I'm not articulate enough to write without sounding repetitive. 😩
But on that note: I've decided to just throw caution to the wind and do a reveal after this one! Just wanna play a bit more with what little editing mobile allows and get summaries of the Smutmus Holy Trinity put on a masterlist first~ ❤️
"Yeah? You gonna cum for me, baby?" You breathed out in between your gasps and moans. The corners of your mouth twitched upward as Alastor's thrusts became more and more animalistic with every 'slap!', every curse that bounced off the walls and invaded his senses. You just felt so fucking good! He couldn't help himself.
Removing his clawed hand from your hair, Alastor traced the point of his sharp nails down your back - reveling in the hiss that forced its way through your clenched jaw - to wrap around the curve of your ass, his other hand on your hip joining it on the opposite cheek. With a harsh squeeze followed by an equally hard slap, Alastor began to guide your lower body in sync with his own. Foreheads still pressed together, his eyes were locked with yours as both of you were nearing another release. "Yes, just like that! Don't stop!" He groaned, forcing your hips up and down, the sinful drag of his cock driving you mad.
"Gonna cum in this tight little pussy! M'gonna fill you up!" He promised, hips becoming more erratic as he chased that wonderful high - one he could never get anywhere else. Lifting your head just enough to look down between your bodies, salivating at the way his cock disappeared inside you. It was only for a second, but it was enough for Alastor to smack your ass once more, his other hand coming back up to grab a fistful of your hair and direct your gaze back to his face. "Look at me!" He demanded. The blissful sting of his hand pulling your hair made you clench around him even harder, if that was even possible.
"C-c'mon Al, give it to me!" You cried, heart racing as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge, splitting you in half on his cock. "Pound that pussy-! Nnghh-ohfuck, fuck! Harder Al! Pound my little pussy!" You continued to babble, your mind beginning to go numb as your mouth fell open in the perfect 'oh!' shape. You looked so beautiful like that, it was almost enough to make Alastor cum right then and there, but he held on. It was knowing that he was responsible for the ecstasy coursing through your veins that did it for him; your begging and your expression was tugging at what little restraint he had left.
Reaching up to pull his fingers from your hair, you lifted your upper body so that you were in an upright position once more - his hands returning to your ass cheeks, using them as leverage to bring you down harder and harder with each thrust. "Don't stop! Don't stop! Don't fucking stop!" Alastor commanded through clenched teeth, pounding up into you while watching your tits bounce in time with his movements. "Cum on my fucking cock! Do it, cum with me!"
You had wanted to drag this out a little bit longer, but the way Alastor was pounding into you at such an inhuman pace, your were nearly at your peak (as was he). Alastor watched your hand go straight for that little button in between your folds, rubbing harsh circles against it with the pads of your fingers. "That's it, that's it! Good fucking girl!" He praised you, his own mouth falling open at the sight before him. Arching your back slightly and throwing your head back, you clenched your eyes shut - a drawn out moan so lewd it could make a pornstar blush (Angel) coming from your throat. Your thighs quivered violently, unable to hold the pace any longer as your orgasm crashed over you like you had just stepped under the Niagra Falls - your fluids squirting onto his lower abdomen and dripping down his sides onto the sheets below, a small amount even pooling in the crevice of his navel.
Alastor struggled as the vice grip your heated mound had on his shaft made it damn near impossible to move; but he prevailed, fucking you through your release while chasing his own. His cock twitched inside you as he watched your eyes roll back into your skull, his hips stuttering as he felt the first few ropes of his seed shoot into you. "M'cumming, m'cumming! Fucking-holy-! ... Oh my ffffuuu-!" Alastor shouted, this orgasm hitting him particularly harder than the rest. His shoulders came off the bed as his upperbody jerked forward slightly from the force of his orgasm, his own thighs quaking as he tried to keep his pace, determined to fuck you both through your individual highs straight into overstimulation.
Eventually his thrusts slowed and you removed your hand from that little bundle of nerves, placing both of your hands on his knees as you leaned back slightly, supporting your own weight on them. Your entire body would twitch and your hips would jerk away whenever the tufts of his pubic hair brushed against your swollen clit. Your chest heaved as you tried to come down from your high, but Alastor's shallow thrusts were making it difficult. "A-Al... baby please-" you tried to beg, but it was no use. You knew Alastor was deaf to the world the first few seconds after his release, so you could do naught but try to ride it out. But this time was proving to be more difficult than the rest.
Attempting to lift yourself off of his cock, you barely made it an inch when one of Alastor's tentacles wrapped around your waist, forcing you back down onto his still rock hard, drooling cock. "Ala-... Wha- Alastor?!" You cried out in shock, the overstimulation becoming almost painful as he forced your hips to grind back and forth with his hands. Your whole body was going to be covered in bruises and hickies come morning, and that thought alone had Alastor ready for another round. Grabbing hold of his forearms, you tried to get him to let go. "Al- just give me a secon-nah! Nngh! F-fuck!" But it was futile, as in the next moment you found yourself lying flat on your back in the same spot he once rested, his claws wrapped around the underside of your thighs and pushing them up against your chest - his dick not leaving your core for a single second.
"Oh darling... I'm no where NEAR done with you!"
I was wobbling so hard when I went to go grab a drink after this-- I fuckinh FELL. I FELL BECAUSE OF THIS POST.
ALSO WE HAVE A REVEAL SOON? I LITERALLY GONNA CRY-- OH MY GOSH I CAN'T WAIT??? AND GIFS, PICTURES, ACCOMPANYING THIS STUFF??? Phew. Guys, hold me up, HOLD ME UP
*Post Read*
F-First of all... how are you reading my mind? 🥴🥴🥴 Literally so many k-kinks in one post... the hair pulling? 😩💦 the nails? 😩💦 grabbing ass and using it as leverage? 😩💦 The commands/forcing us to look? 😩💦 Good Girl? 😩💦 Overstim when his legs are giving out??? 😩💦😩💦😩💦 HHHHHHHHH MINK AND HAZEL I FEEL LIKE MAKING A WHOLE ASS ESSAY ON THIS
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S-Second... HOW? How do you write this stuff and not pass out? I'm clutching my pearls, I'm staring at the ceiling, and my legs are twitching. My throat is dry, my voice is groggy from waking up, but I want to SCREAM.
I- I can't IMAGINE how you must feel when you write this???? JFC?
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I don't think you've realized what you've done 😩💦 You have rights to my estate, you have my soul, you have my crops, fuck it, you can have my cat Nugget when I die from the heart attack I'm about to have--
UGHN!! AAAAAAAA SO GOOD SO GOOD SO GOOD. BARK BARK BARK
If no one has told you today: you're so fucking awesome. And you deserve to have your mind blown and turned to mush from being dicked down 😩💦
☄️❤️Anon I fucking LOVE YOU. 😭💗
@hazelfoureyes @minkdelovely ....what's worse? THERE'S ALREADY A SECOND PART IN MY INBOX!!! SEND THE POLICE. IM GONNA NEED A WELLFARE CHECK
We wish you a Merry Smutmus, and a Happy Nude Year!
(Gif below was my exact reaction, when I woke up screaming to this post)
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85 notes · View notes
penelopepine · 3 days
Text
Don't be a stranger! Pt. 2
Part 1 Part 2
Simon "Ghost" Riley x FemReader
Content: Neighbors AU, fluff, developing relationship
"If you're going to insist on making dinner for the both of us I might as well pay for the groceries." Simon was standing next to your door waiting for you to finish getting ready. You had asked him this morning what he wanted for dinner as you were going to the store after work and could get anything he wanted.
"Me making dinner for you is supposed to be a thank you for helping me Simon. I love that you're joining me, but I'm not going to let you pay."
"We'll see."
You finally walk out of your bedroom towards Simon, "Your job on this trip is going to be pushing the cart and looking pretty. I'm going to be grabbing everything and paying." Giving Simon a playful glare as the two of you makes your way out the door.
Pretty?
Do you really think he looks pretty? 
-
Simon hated grocery shopping; he has always felt that it was a waste of time, far too many people walking around, and the lights in here were almost blinding. He’s not happy to be here, but he also wasn’t going to let you continue to let you do all this work and not help in some way. 
At the very least shopping with you did make the experience more enjoyable. All he had to do was follow you. Letting you take control of where they went and did was strangely freeing from his usual day to day. Plus getting to just watch and listen to you ramble about your day was not something he was going to give up now that he’s here. 
"You know you still haven't told me what you wanted. I've been making my favorites every time you come over; it's your turn now to decide the menu." 
"I've been living off military mess hall food for most of my life. Anything you make is going to be a favorite of mine, love."
"How about you tell me at least one thing you want?" 
"Anything I want?"
"Anything!" 
You. 
That is the answer Simon wants to say, but he knows he can't, "I like shepherd’s pie.” 
“Shepherd’s pie it is!” You say, giving him a wide grin. 
The rest of the shopping is mostly uneventful. It isn't until the two of you were at the end of your grocery list did you seem to realize something was missing. 
“Oh, meet me at the front! I forgot to add apples to the list; I’ll go grab it real quick.” 
Before Simon could even disagree and say he’d just go with you; your figure was already speeding away from him. Slowly he made his way to the front of the store out of the way of others to wait. It wasn’t until eight minutes later when he saw no sign of you that he started to worry. 
It took all but a moment to find you, and he was not pleased with what he saw when he did. A man was standing far too close to you. The uncomfortable look on your face only served in sealing the man’s fate. 
Neither of you seemed to notice as he walked closer, but he was able to finally hear your conversation now. 
“-on, just one date. I promise I’ll make it worth it.” 
"My boyfriend is waiting for me; you need to leave me alone." You try to step around him, but the man is quick to side step in front of you and makes a move to grab you. Simon would happily beat the man into the ground, but he doesn’t want to frighten you. So he does the next best thing which is to rail the man with the cart. 
With a loud grunt the man falls onto the ground holding his side in pain. 
“She said to leave her alone. So why don’t you crawl away now like the worm you are.” Simon snarls down at him. Moving the cart and himself to stand between you and the man. 
"What the fuck man!" 
"I'll give you five seconds to get out of here." Simon wasn't about to have a pointless back and forth with this guy. The only thing he cared about right now was getting him away from you.
He stands slowly and glares in your direction before practically running away from Simon and you.
As soon as his figure disappears from sight Simon turns to you and gently grips your shoulder; tucking you into his side as he guides you back to the front of the store.
"Thank you for doing that; you didn't have to but I really appreciate it." 
"It's no problem," Simon continued his hold on your shoulder; not wanting to yet let go of you, "If anyone messes with you send them my way. I'll deal with them." 
You give him a smile in return. "That was honestly really funny by the way; hitting him with the cart." 
"I would have ran him over with it, but I didn’t want you having to find a new grocery store because I got the two of us banned." 
You laugh at his words and it makes his chest feel tight. He almost wants to record it just so that he could take it with him anywhere he goes. 
"C'mon, let's get out of here before they change their minds then!" 
Simon had of course won in the end when it came to who was going to be paying. He knew he would, but you still put in a good fight to beat him to it. He’d let you win in a lot of things, but this wasn’t one of them. 
-
It wasn’t until the two of you were sitting in your flat after eating did you seem to notice that he had been acting more reserved than he normally would be. Of course you weren’t about to just let him stew in thoughts for long once you caught on to it. 
“What’s wrong Simon? You’re acting a lot broodier tonight.” 
“I’m leaving soon; next week.” There was no point in lying to you; Simon had gotten the call from Price just a couple of days ago. He had been wondering how he was going to break the news to you. 
“Leaving? So soon; do you know when you’ll be back?”
No he doesn’t know when he’ll get to see you again. For all he knows the day he leaves could be the last day the two of you ever see each other again. “No, but I’ll see what I can do to come back soon.” 
“You better,” You give him a soft elbow jab to the side, “I’m gonna miss you y'know. I’ve gotten so used to having you around these past few weeks.” 
He had as well, almost regrettably so. Your presence in his life had done something to him that he’d never be able to undo. Simon wasn’t sure how he was going to feel not being able to see you. The daily morning walks, evening dinners, and weekend hangouts had quickly become a staple in his life. 
For now though the only thing he wanted to do was live in the moment. He didn’t have to say goodbye right now and he wasn’t going to act like he did while he was with you. That time would come later.
Taglist:
@nexthyperfix @spicyspicyliving
106 notes · View notes
l0tt1emy · 3 days
Text
nobody knows
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Stepbrother!Nat scartoccio x F!Reader
A/n: I got this idea while using a bot from one of my moots @/deerlottie (his bots are PERFECT(。ŏ﹏ŏ) and I thought "why not write about it?" So this idea came to me
Warnings: SMUT. I'm not your mother!! Oral, p in v, no protection, I think that's all...
Summary: Your step brother was just kind to agree to sleep with you, Could you make up for it
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Nat didn't know that a night at the movies with his step sister would do that
his day was shit, nat had lost the ball in the game, thus making his team lose, his frustrated teammates ended up talking too much, and this stressed him out, Arriving home your father discovered that he was skipping school for no reason "he's not even my real father" nat thinks
You, his step sister, started school after him, and became Jackie's best friend, so he already knew you before you moved in with him, you were kinder than he wanted to say, he always called you names and you had every opportunity to call him names back, but you stayed quiet or just nodded, he literally said that was why you weren't dating and you just mumbled "uhmm" while writing in your book
Nat arrived very angry in the room, you could see and feel the smoke coming out of her ears, he was red with anger
He sat on the sofa angrily, while breathing in visible that you could hear, you turned slightly towards him without taking your eyes off the program" Did something happen?" you mumble, your eyes scanning him for a second after turning back to the tv "nothing that's any of your business" he says dryly as he rubs your temple, as if that does any good
"wow..rude" you mutter as you frown, and grab the remote control "I was thinking about putting on a movie" you say without looking at him "can that be done? or are you too mad for that? and I have What do you have to wait until you leave the room?" you add, mocking a little.
Nat rolls his eyes and leans into you, his arm brushing your chest as he pulls the control from you "I'll choose" he says seriously, if you were a little mad you would have ignored him and gone up to your room, but you continuous
and you don't know how, but you watched a movie with nat, if you ignore the part where you almost cursed him and tried to steal control from him because you didn't want a horror movie, the night was good
Somehow you ended up next to Nat, holding his arm tightly as you were startled.
and in the midst of the cozy intimacy you let out a suspicious question "do you want to sleep with me today?" and what surprised you was that nat accepted
Your parents were surprised, you never got along, always fighting over who would take a shower first, until he started dreaming about you almost every night, I mean, always, he always woke up hard as a rock, and he couldn't take it more, masturbating was no longer possible, he needed more, but he never had the courage to do it, of course you already kissed him once, but it was a long time ago, he never moved forward after that
and it was no different now, but now he can blame you, you unconsciously turned your back to him, your ass rubbing his dick, he could feel it even in his sleep, his hands twitching and him slowly regaining consciousness
Nat's eyes snapped open, his pupils dilating as he registered the sensation of your curved ass pressed against his dick, He let out a soft groan
Without a word, Nat reached for your waist, pulling you back towards him, his hand wrapped around your hip, his fingers digging gently into your skin as he guided you
You feel warm hands rub your skin, slowly regaining consciousness only to be able to differentiate Nat's hands "What are you doing?..." you mumble with your eyes closed as you slowly move back, feeling something hard on your ass
Nat's hands tightened around your hip, his grip slighty uncomfortable, but sweet as he pulled you closer.
"Shh, baby," he whispered, his voice husky with sleep. "I didn't mean to fall asleep." His hands smoothed up and down your sides, his movements soothing and gentle as he tried to rebalance himself "And also, I missed my sweet sister" he added, his voice dripping with affection.
His fingers glided around to your stomach, his touch sending shivers down your spine. "And now, I need a wake-up call from you, my love," he whispered, his warmth piercing the morning mist. Nat's eyes fluttered open, his gaze locking onto yours, his face etched with genuine
Your thoughts were certainly not being processed, Nat's hand seemed to make a trail of fire whenever he rubbed you, you unconsciously put your hand over his and squeezed, not knowing if it was to push him away and tell him to continue.
Nat's eyes flashed, his body responding to the gentle touch of your hand, his hand, still wrapped around your hip, began to move in slow, deliberate circles, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin that made your breath catch. His eyes never left yours, his gaze burning with intensity as he watched you, his face inches from yours. The air was thick with tension, the only sound the soft rustle of his breathing and the beating of your hearts. Nat's hand slid higher, his palm pressing against the small of your back, his fingers digging gently into your skin. His mouth hovered inches from yours, his lips parted, his breath warm against your skin. "N-natty.. what are you doing" "shh.." he murmured, his voice low and throaty.
"let me do everything...just, don't make noise or you'll get in trouble" he says as he starts to kiss your neck softly, giving wet kisses he traced your spine, his fingers playing with your bra clasp.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his breath warm against your lips, his fingers fumbled with the clasp, finally releasing it with a click.
Nat's eyes were locked onto your face, his gaze filled with adoration. He slowly removed your bra, revealing your bare chest. "Damn, you're perfect" he breathed, his voice filled with longing. His eyes moved from your face, to your chest, then back up to your eyes.
"So pretty.." he murmured, his hands cupping your cheeks. His thumbs stroked your jawlines, his touch gentle and tender.
His hand cupped your breast, his fingers grazing your nipple, sending shivers down your spine. "God, you're amazing," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. His lips returned to your mouth, his kiss hungry and demanding. Nat's hand slipped lower, his fingers grazing the edge of your shorts.
" let me do everything" nat said his voice rough with need. His erection strained against his boxers, desperate for attention. Nat's eyes never left yours, his gaze filled unspoken promises
His hand slid lower, his fingers teasing the edge of your underwear.
His fingers slipped under your underwear, his touch confident and bold. Nat's eyes locked onto yours, his face flushed with desire. He felt your wetness, his cock pulsing in response.
"God..you are so wet for me" he says in a whisper, moving and moving down your body, He kisses your neck, going down to your stomach, kissing slowly, reaching your thigh, he looks at you and bites his lip, you feel the blush creeping up your neck, covering your face with your arm you close your eyes
Nat's eyes sparkled with amusement, his lips twitching into a smirk.
"Don't be embarrassed," he murmured, his voice smooth. His fingers continued to stroke you, his touch confident and sure. " It's a good thing, alright?" he teased, his voice filled with mirth. His thumb brushed against your entrance, testing its readiness.
I want to taste you," he whispered, his voice tinged with hunger. Nat lowered his head, his lips brushing against your inner thigh.
"Spread your legs for me," he instructed, his voice velvety. As you followed his command, Nat positioned himself between your thighs.
Nat's eyes darkened, his pupils dilating. He took a deep breath, his nostrils catching your scent. His tongue swiped across your inner thigh, his touch feather-light.
"Oh god, you smell delicious," he murmured, his voice thick with desire.
He moved closer, his face mere centimeters from your core. His tongue flicked out, tasting you, his eyes locked on yours.
"So wet," Nat breathed, his voice low and sultry. He dipped his head, his tongue sliding into you. His eyes locked onto yours, his cheeks hollowing as he sucked. Nat's fingers played with your clit, his touch electric.
"Fuck, you're so tight," he groaned, his voice muffled. His tongue probed deeper, his lips sucking gently
"F-fuck..natty" You moan softly, biting your arm to muffle your moans, Nat licks you all over, sucking your clit, your clit pulsing on his tongue
He increased his pace, his tongue flickering and dancing inside you. His fingers pinched your clit, his touch precise and deliberate.
His eyes locked onto yours, his face flushed with exertion. Nat's tongue plunged deeper, his movements confident and bold. He sucked harder, his lips creating suction
"You're so fucking wet," he growled, his voice raw. His fingers danced around your clit, his touch expert and precise.
your thighs move without your will, they tremble and you unconsciously close them, Nat quickly growls and squeezes her, forcing them open, you whimper softly and close your eyes, muttering curses, you could feel that you are almost reaching the limit
"Almost there, baby," he whispered, his voice hoarse. His tongue worked furiously, his movements desperate. His fingers pinched and tugged your clit, his touch insistent. Nat's eyes locked onto yours, his face flushed with excitement. His tongue darted in and out, his movements frantic.
"That's it," he growled, his voice raw. His fingers twisted your clit, his touch urgent. His eyes never left yours, his focus solely on your pleasure.
"Come for me, baby," he growled, his voice raw.
His tongue thrust into you, his movements fierce. His fingers pinched your clit, his touch relentless. Nat's eyes locked onto yours, his face etched with determination. His tongue flickered wildly, his movements unrestrained.
"There you go," he groaned, his voice thick with lust. His fingers squeezed your clit, his touch insatiable. His own release threatened, his body tense with need. Nat's tongue danced inside you, his movements chaotic.
"That's it, come for me, baby," he pleaded, his voice hoarse. His fingers twisted your clit, his touch unrelenting. When you reach climax your body convulses, you shake and whimper softly
He felt your muscles clench, his tongue lapping up your juices.
Nat wipes off every last drop of your juices, licking his lips then, adjusting himself and getting up until your face is facing his, he kisses you, you feeling the taste of your juices
he straightens up and murmurs "Are you ready for me yet?" he murmurs against your lips, sounding more like a statement than a question.
"On me," he ordered, his voice hoarse. His tongue retreated, his face flushed with desire. He adjusted his position, his erection throbbing. Nat's hand guided you, his touch sure.
His eyes locked onto yours, his face etched with determination. "Ride me, baby," he growled, his voice raw. He lifted his hips, his erection poised.
His eyes never left yours, his gaze filled with hunger. Nat's breath hitched as you settled on him, his erection submerging inside you. His hands gripped your hips, his touch possessive.
"Fuck, you're tight," he groaned, his voice tinged with pleasure. He held you steady, his body tense with anticipation. Nat's eyes locked onto yours, his face filled with longing.
"Go ahead," he urged, his voice low and sultry.
His breath hitched as you rode him, his erection buried deep within you.
"Fuck, you're so tight," he groaned, his voice raw. His hands gripped your hips, his touch possessive. Nat's eyes locked onto yours, his face etched with pleasure. His own release threatened, his body tense with need. He thrust upward, his movements matching yours.
"Harder, baby," he growled, his voice hoarse. His hands gripped your hips, his touch insistent. Nat's eyes never left yours, his gaze filled with hunger. He thrust upward, his erection hitting your G-spot.
"Oh god, yes," he moaned, his voice tinged with pleasure. His hands gripped your hips, his touch unyielding. Nat's eyes locked onto yours, his face flushed with desire.
"Take it," he growled, his voice raw. His hands gripped your hips, his touch insistent. His eyes locked onto yours, his face etched with determination. Nat's thrusts became more forceful, his body moving in sync with yours.
"Oh god, you feel so good," he panted, his voice hoarse. His eyes never left yours, his gaze filled with longing.
you feel filled to the brim, his dick hitting your cervix He thrust upward, his erection hitting your spot perfectly.
"Fuck, yes," he groaned, his voice tinged with pleasure. His hands gripped your hips, his touch unyielding. Nat's eyes never left yours, his face etched with desire. "That's it, ride me, baby," he urged, his voice low and sultry. His own release threatened, his body trembling. Nat's breath came in short, ragged gasps, his eyes locked onto yours.
"You're so fucking tight," he moans, getting close to your neck and biting it, leaving a mark "f-fuck nat" you moan loudly
Nat's eyes flashed with ecstasy, his own release imminent.
"Fuck, yes" he growled, his voice hoarse. His hands gripped your hips, his touch insistent. His eyes locked onto yours, his face etched with pleasure. Nat's release erupted, his body trembling. His thrusts became more frantic, his body shaking.
His eyes never left yours, his gaze filled with hunger.
"That's it, baby," he urged, his voice low and sultry. His release surged, his body shuddering. Nat's breath came in short, ragged gasps, his eyes locked onto yours.
"Oh, fuck" he moaned, his voice tinged with pleasure. His hands gripped your hips, his touch unyielding. His release poured into you, his body quivering. Nat's eyes locked onto yours, his face etched with satisfaction.
"You feel so good," he murmured, his voice hoarse.
you feel exhaustion seep into your body, your body relaxing without your will into his neck, closing your eyes and sighing into his neck as sleep settles in
"You're amazing," he whispered, his voice soft. His arms wrapped around you, his embrace tender. He held you close, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. Nat's hands caressed your back, his touch gentle. His eyes locked onto yours, his face filled with contentment.
"Thank you," he murmured, his voice filled with gratitude. His breath hitched, his body still trembling. His fingers tangled in your hair, his touch affectionate.
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You wake up the next day alone in your bed, your head hurts as you remember what happened last night, getting up from your room and heading towards the stairs, your knees buckle and you almost fall, this has never happened before...
Going down the stairs, you notice that your stepmother, your father and Nat were at the breakfast table, your mother talking to Nat while your father read a newspaper, she gives a smile when she sees you
"Good morning sweetheart" she says softly, and nat looks at you and waves "good morning idiot" she greets you normally, you roll your eyes fake not at all offended "good morning smelly" you say as you sit next to your stepmother "stop arguing" she says lovingly
"I'm not" you say bluntly, breakfast continues as normal, you and Nat acting like you always do on a daily basis until your stepmother says something "Have you resolved yourselves yet?" She murmurs softly as she fixes the dishes, you and Nat look at each other
"What do you mean?" "You were arguing last night in your room" she says, you and Nat's eyes widen and you can see Nat blushing, your father looks at your stepmother "always, they always arguing" he adds and your mother rolls her eyes and smiles "
They don't even hide it, you speak too loud, dear
69 notes · View notes
onceuponapuffin · 2 days
Text
Fanatic Intervention Part 7!!!
Beginning|| Previous || Next
It will not surprise you at all, dear Reader, to learn that Aziraphale keeps very little in his kitchen cupboards. There is no stove or oven, and the only thing in the fridge is milk (for his tea no doubt). When you start opening cupboards, you find one pack of custard creams, and a second one of chocolate digestives. Well, it will have to do. You find yourself a small plate and fill it half and half before heading back into the shop just in time to say goodbye to Anathema and Newt.
As they leave, you turn to the supernatural entities in the room.
“So,” You say, “If we’re going to the States, then we have a few problems. First, I don’t have my passport or any ID at all, so airport security is going to be fun. Second, I have no money. Third, I’m gonna need a Walmart or something because I don’t even have a toothbrush, my dudes. Fourth, these,” You indicate the cookies, “are fine for a snack, but overall they’re not gonna cut it.”
“You just leave the airport security to us,” Aziraphale replies. You make a note that he glided right past ‘my dudes,’ they’re getting used to you already. Dammit. “As for the rest of it,” Aziraphale continues, “I suppose a trip to Tesco’s is in order.”
Crowley produces a shiny black credit card from nowhere and hands it to you. “We’ll take the Bentley,” he says. He starts to stand, but you shake your head.
“Nuh-uh, you both stay here,” You say. Crowley raises his eyebrow.
“You realize we can take care of ourselves,” he says, “We’ve been doing it for a few millennia.”
“I’m not talking about that,” You say, “Look, what we’re going into is really dangerous. And I know that your pattern is to just wait to talk about things until you’re in the clear, but that’s not a good idea anymore. I mean, I get that I’m not exactly an expert, but I read just as much as you do and I’ve heard a million stories by this point in my life, and in NONE of them do people ever say ‘I’m so glad I never told them how I feel’ - you know? It’s always ‘I wish I would have’ or ‘I should have told them every day.’ So Muriel and I will go ask Maggie to take us to Tesco, and you two need to talk. Please. While it’s safe, while you have the chance, before things get dangerous and possibly deadly.”
Crowley and Aziraphale are silent. You notice that they aren’t looking at each other. Well, you’ve done your best. Now you need to trust them.
At this point, dear Reader, you are probably thinking to yourself ‘well I would snoop and spy on them while they talk! I want to watch them make out!’ But here is the thing – in this world they are real people, not characters. It’s one thing to say that you would creep on them from the other side of this fiction, but when they’re very real and looking at you in person, things are a little different. For one thing, you realize that real people deserve things like boundaries and privacy, especially for sensitive conversations.
And so, you take Muriel over to Maggie’s shop, where you explain that Mr. Fell has sent the two of you on an errand and you need to stop for dinner somewhere and have no idea where anything is. You flash her the credit card and say ‘It’s all on me,’ and she conveniently agrees with a look on her face that says something like ‘least they could do after all that shit they put us through.’
So the three of you go for dinner at the nearest Weatherspoons, where you and Maggie eat while Muriel watches in morbid fascination. Then you all take the bus to Tesco where you buy yourself a small wardrobe, and manage to coax Muriel into some light blue jeans and an argyle jumper so they look a little less like the Beacon of Gondor. You quickly find out that Muriel has an adorable fascination with fuzzy socks, novelty mugs, and coloured pencils. Of course, you enable their fascinations with a happy heart, and as an afterthought, you grab them a small pot of orange daisies from the flower section. It will give them something alive to tend to while you’re gone. Muriel appreciates the thought. All in all, it’s a long but good time.
You don’t know about the talk, and you’re worried about asking when you get back.
THAT BEING SAID
You and I, dear Reader, not actually being in that world, are allowed certain privileges.
The bookshop is silent for a long time. Both of them are thinking, digesting, processing. Feelings are hard to feel, and harder to put into words. Especially when it has been made clear, twice now in the span of a number of hours, that you absolutely need to put them into words.
It isn’t until after Crowley notices you, Muriel, and Maggie heading down the street that he stands up and begins to pace. A few more minutes pass before he speaks.
“So...uhm...are you going to go first or should I?”
“Are we...are we actually going to do this? Have this talk I mean?” Aziraphale has been shelving books to try and take the edge off. Now he puts down the book in his hands and absent-mindedly fidgets with his ring.
“Well, I mean we don’t have to,” Crowley says, aiming for non-chalance and missing ever-so-slightly, “No one can actually make us.”
“Yes, except it feels very much like everyone is trying to.”
“Trying is the key word there.”
“That’s true enough I suppose.”
The silence returns and stretches. It is anything but comfortable. The air is full of words that they have been told they should say, words that perhaps they want to say, but words that have been dammed up with fear and uncertainty for so long now that they’ve become very hard to un-stick. After a while, Aziraphale clears his throat and speaks.
“I, erm, I suppose you had better go first.”
“Me, right, okay.” Crowley clears his throat now and stops his pacing near the desk. He looks down at the scattered papers and books, the pens and photos and newspaper clippings. The assorted clutter of Aziraphale’s life. Looking away makes it easier to start. He takes a breath. “Um..right...well...we’ve known each other a long time. We’ve been on this planet a long time – you and me, I mean. I’ve always been able to rely on you, and you’ve always relied on me,” another breath, “We’re a team, yeah? A group of the two of us. And...erm...we pretend that we aren’t. Always have. Safer that way I guess.” He looks up at Aziraphale. The angel isn’t looking at him, but he nods anyway to show that he’s listening. Crowley continues. “And I mean...I’ve tried not to think about it much before but...but it would be nice, I mean, UGH” He takes off his sunglasses and rubs a hand over his eyes as though he can massage the words and make them easier to say. “I mean, I would like to spend...mmm….I would like to spend the rest not pretending anymore. Be an us. I mean,” suddenly the dam breaks, and Crowley finds the words come tumbling out, “If Gabriel and Beelzebub can do it, we can. We don’t need Heaven or Hell, they’re both toxic. We can be an us, on our side. You and me. What do you say?” He looks at Aziraphale without reservation now. His angel looks back at him, eyes wide. When he does speak, it’s with a smile and a small nod of acknowledgment rather than agreement.
“That was very well done Crowley,” he says. This isn’t an answer.
“Nnyeah, thanks. Your turn though.”
“Right, I suppose it is.” Aziraphale takes a moment to gather himself. After hearing Crowley be so open about this, he feels more resolved himself to do this properly. He faces Crowley and folds his hands to keep himself grounded. “Crowley,” he begins, “I...I wish that this conversation were happening under better circumstances. Although it’s been pointed out that ideal circumstances aren’t a promise that we can wait around for. Well, the thing is that I would like the same thing. Very much in fact. My biggest concern by far is for your safety because, well, frankly I don’t see the point in saving the world again if you’re not around to enjoy it with me. An us, as you said. You and me.” He smiles. Crowley smiles.
“Guess we’d better save the world together then. And try not to die.”
“Yes, quite.”
“Aziraphale?”
“Yes, Crowley?”
“You’re my angel. No one else.”
“And you, my wiley serpent. No one else.”
The shop bell dings.
“We’re baaaaaack!” You sing as you waltz through the door, shopping bags in hand. Muriel follows after you, carefully carrying their daisies. “Did you miss us?”
When you eventually get the courage to ask them about their talk later, you get a “ngk” from Crowley, and a “We’ve said all that needs to be said, for now.” from Aziraphale. And that, you suppose, will have to do.
❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ 🖤
70 notes · View notes