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icequeenbae · 11 months

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Giving Love a Shot (m) | BBH

Previous: Snapshot (m) [pt.1], Shot Through the Heart (m) [pt.2]

Pairing: photographer!Baekhyun x idol!Reader

Photographer AU, Established Relationship, PWP, fluff, smut (the usual)

Warnings: explicit content, unprotected sex, Baek is the god of oral™

Word Count: ~3k

Summary: You and Baekhyun have been trying out the whole ‘dating thing’ for a few months now. He comes to visit you in Japan during your schedule and things take an unexpected turn.

Author’s note: Hey hey, your authornim is back!! Thanks to @hwasdollie who took on and completed her beta duties so swiftly, I am able to post this during my birthday month!! I might be able to post smth else for a different fandom before the end of June as well but shhhhh Anyways, since a few people approached me asking for the continuation of the photographer!Baek story, I decided it's time to get my act together and post it! I hope you like it!! And please don't stay silent, you know I love to chat 💕💕💕

Network Tags: @kvanity-main @exo-writers-net @bbh-net @superm-net

‘Goodnight, Miss.’

You bowed to the hotel staff in a polite manner, looking perfectly put together. They only saw your eyes anyway, with your habit of wearing a mask at all times. Especially now that you had all your makeup removed after the full day of interviews. As your skin got pretty sensitive, you didn’t like to walk around bare-faced where people could see. Or worse, take pictures.

Had anyone asked, you would say that you contained your excitement reasonably well. Considering how giddy you actually felt, knowing that your boyfriend was coming to visit tonight. Actually, you were so impatient that you texted him from the elevator.

‘I’m almost in my room. Where are you now?’

Baekhyun was actually supposed to be there before you, so you arranged a spare key to wait for him at the reception desk downstairs. Of course, you made sure that it was discreet. You left it in a sealed envelope stuffed with blank paper to be passed onto him as soon as he arrived. He didn’t text you back in the last thirty minutes, so you assumed he was probably still on his way.

Swinging the door open, you walked inside and instantly removed your shoes. Your legs were killing you after wearing high heels all day. Checking your phone again, you confirmed that no answer came through and decided to make a quick run for the bathroom.

Incredibly short – in your personal opinion – fifteen minutes later, you were all done. But there was still no response from your highly anticipated guest.

‘Where is he, dammit?’ You muttered under your breath, walking into the room to get fresh clothes.

But as soon as you turned the lights on…

‘Oh my g-’ You covered your mouth to silence yourself.

There, on the armchair, was a neat pile of clothes. Male clothes. Meanwhile, said male was… in your bed. Sleeping like a baby.

There he was, your unreachable boyfriend. Resting up well, instead of giving you a warm welcome as soon as you walked in.

As your heart rate returned to normal, you rolled your eyes. If he wasn’t making an effort to stay awake, you were going to change into comfy panties and a crop top, as sexy lingerie obviously wasn’t on the menu for tonight, and join him. Turning off the upper light, you left the wall sconces on both sides of the bed on. Just for a minute.

You crawled under the duvet, instantly embraced by the warmth generated by Baekhyun’s body.

Two assertive arms snaked their way around your body, hugging you tightly.

‘Oh- you’re awake?’ You whispered in surprise, being pulled deeper into his den.

‘M- ‘f course,’ he murmured, eyes still closed.

‘Yeah, right,’ you snorted, squeezing his bicep in mock frustration. ‘I see you grew tired of waiting for me…’

‘Not at all. Your pillows just smelled so nice. And I know you hate when I get on the bed wearing clothes.’ He said, and you nodded in agreement. ‘So, I showered and decided to surprise you.’

‘By sleeping in my bed?’

You huffed out a laugh, brushing his messy hair out of his eyes as he cracked one of them open.

‘I wasn’t supposed to be asleep.’ He began, watching you with just that one eye, like a sleepy pirate. ‘I had an entire performance planned.’

‘That so?’ You nudged.

‘Picture this: you walk in, and I’m already on the bed buck naked, holding a rock-hard dick in my hand. ‘Enjoy the ride’ banner right behind me.’

‘Oh gosh,’ you coughed. ‘I’m thankful you changed your mind.’

‘I didn’t. There was just no scotch tape. And while I was weighing the probability of you killing me in case I used bubble gum,’ he paused to catch your hand that could very well pinch him for the suggestion. ‘…I fell asleep. Just for a second. More like drowsed.’

‘Drooling all over my pillow?’ You teased, causing him to frown.

‘I only drool when I’m dreaming of eating you out, and we didn’t get to that tonight,’ he said in a tone that suggested it was obvious and you should’ve known better. ‘Drowsed for a sec, nothing more.’

You only chuckled, fingers tracing the lines of his face. His sharp jaw, his prominent cheekbones, his soft lips.

‘I missed you a lot, aegiya.’ He said out of nowhere, both eyes closed.

‘You saw me two weeks ago,’ you mumbled, becoming shy as soon as he used the pet name.

It was so strange, even after these past few months, to see him like this. How could anyone become so boyfriend-y all of a sudden? You had no idea Baekhyun even had a side like this when you decided to get into this relationship. He’d managed to surprise you in multiple ways already; him flying across the ocean just to see you was one of the examples.

‘Exactly. Don’t tell me you weren’t suffering through every single day away from me…’

His fingers traced the skin underneath your top, threatening to start tickling you, and you squirmed, pushing him away timidly.

‘Why are you so lovey-dovey out of the blue? Are you talking in your sleep?’

‘Hey, that hurts. The real question is, why aren’t you? Aren’t you happy to see your oppa?’ He kept tugging you closer as you resisted playfully.

‘Ew. I told you, I’m not calling you that.’

‘Why’s that,’ he leaned in to kiss your neck and you failed to push his face away.

‘Don’t be gross.’

‘You’re my aegi, and I’m older, so-’

‘There’s no kissing for oppas. Or anything else fun.’ You pressed, licking your lips. ‘Only for my boyfriend. Baekhyun.’

He looked at your mouth a second too long, before muttering a low.

‘I see.’

You swallowed, trapped in this demonstrative struggle.

‘I see how it is, Y/N.’ He repeated slowly, catching you off guard with a sudden tug to finally press your body to his. ‘You think you got me all soft for you, so now you can do whatever you wish, hm?’

You bit your lip, shivering in excitement. His voice sounded gentle but low. Whenever he used this tone, you knew it was time to be a good girl.

‘Please don’t scold me, Baekhyunie,’ you pouted, caressing his shoulder sheepishly.

‘You didn’t give me an answer. Are you happy to see me?’ He pulled away slightly to give you a sharp glance.

‘Of course.’

‘That’s it?’ His furrowed eyebrows made him look dissatisfied.

‘I missed you. A lot. Too.’ You mumbled, eyes wandering around his bare chest.

‘Why are you so flustered?’ He continued his questioning, not allowing you to move away from his slow offense. ‘Thinking dirty thoughts already?’

The exposed look on your face probably told him everything.

‘Aegiya,’ Baekhyun smiled, content with your reaction. ‘You’re so easy to mess with.’

‘No, I’m no-’ Your protest was interrupted by a quick kiss.

‘Yes, you are. The moment I lower my voice you turn into a cute little puddle,’ he stated with the most satisfied look on his face before nuzzling your neck. ‘You know what else turns you into a pool of hot mess?’

You whimpered, startled by the pressure of his fingers directly on your clit.

‘God, I missed you,’ he gritted, licking a stripe over your ribs and inhaling your scent.

‘Baek-’ You swallowed, latching onto his shoulder. ‘We can’t be loud here. The girls are on this floor, and what if someone-’

‘This is a five-star hotel, princess.’ He made sure to continue his descent despite your feeble protests.

‘It’s not completely sound-proof!’

‘Don’t worry. I’ll make it quick.’ He smirked, hooking the fabric of your panties with his thumb to get them out of the way.

Making it quick was worse. It meant he was going to go zero to one hundred in a snap of his dainty fingers, and you were in no way ready to handle it.

During the course of your rather new relationship, he’d managed to perfect his oral technique to such an extent that you had to literally refuse him the pleasures of the mouth whenever you were outside the privacy of your homes. It was just too risky. If someone was to hear you…

He tended to make your sessions extremely noisy.

‘Just relax. I know what I’m doing,’ he hummed before poking his tongue out and dragging it slowly over your slit.

‘Oh-’ You grabbed onto the duvet, and he did it again.

Not forgetting to slurp this time.

Biting hard on your lip, you tried to keep still. But even that didn’t help when his wet tongue flicked your engorged clit. You could see him already getting into it. His heavy-lidded eyes watched you through the blond strands, and his mouth opened wide as if he attempted to swallow your entire pussy.

You panted, trying to move away, but he held you securely in place by the hips.

Baekhyun’s breath became heavier and heavier, and the sound of it only made you go mad with the thrill. His tongue flattened out and he moved his head up and down to drag it over your core.

Just as you thought that this was bearable, he did the unexpected. He sucked your clit into his mouth harshly, coating the area with so much saliva you could feel it trickle down to your entrance.

‘A-ah!’ You flexed your abs and pressed at the back of his head, chasing the contact.

Instead of slowing down as he usually did, he continued increasing the intensity. His tongue ran up and down your core with urgency before his lips closed around your most sensitive spot again, sucking harshly and then breaking out into short licks.

‘Baek, stop- I can’t-’ You sobbed mid-sentence as he shook his head lightly, adding stimulation.

At this point, his own breathing was loud and labored, as if he was the one on the receiving end of this hustle.

But, as soon as your breaths became shallow and your muscles started to clench, he ripped himself away and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

‘I just love bringing you to the edge,’ he admitted, licking his lips hungrily. ‘cause then I don’t have to spare your pussy.’

He slapped your vulva abruptly, and you yelped from the jarring sensation, sitting up.

‘Ride me, baby,’ Baekhyun said, dropping on his back as you got on top of him readily.

You wanted to get this over with. You needed him to finish what he’d started.

‘Shit.’ He cursed as soon as you brought your thighs down. ‘Go on.’

Swaying your hips, you focused on the friction against your walls. He always felt so good inside you.

‘Let me help you a little,’ he suggested, taking hold of your pelvis to aid you in your movements.

Leaning onto his chest with your palms, you went as hard as you could. And his thighs met yours, sounding a skin-to-skin slap upon every fleeting contact.

‘M-Baek,’ you whined, messing up the pace.

‘Don’t slow down,’ he demanded, fingers digging into your skin.

‘I can’t-’

He put his palm onto your back and prodded you to lean forward, gaining enough momentum to start pounding into you from below.

‘Fuck.’ He gritted, ignoring your uncontrollable moans and the lecherous noises from where your skin met his.

Baekhyun’s eyes never left your body, and he kept his tempo for as long as he could.

‘Fuck- Fuck!’ He suddenly growled, and you shrieked as you became undone.

‘B-Baekhyun,’ you cried out, held solid by his hands while his dick kept nailing you.

Thankfully, your boyfriend was quick to follow you and find his release. You whimpered as he shook briefly, letting out only a strained grunt to signify that he was finished for now.

He rolled you over to rest on top of your body, his entire weight pushing you down, and kissed you deeply. Both your and his breathing was hectic, but it didn’t hinder the interaction. Your fingers traced his prickly nape, while his tongue played with yours.

You laid like that for a bit before he scrambled off of you, finally letting you breathe properly.

‘I really did miss you.’

He smiled as you said that, and leaned in to press a playful kiss to your nose.

‘I know.’

You poked his cheek in embarrassment. He was a really affectionate boyfriend, and you loved that about him. It did make you a bit bashful though. Strangely, more so than your crazy sex marathons.

‘Thanks for flying all the way here just for me.’

‘It wasn’t just for you. I got a couple gigs here for the next few days,’ he shrugged, and then added. ‘I might’ve gotten those after I bought flight tickets, but sh-h! I can’t let it go to your head.’

‘Why not?’ You pouted, stroking his collarbone.

‘Aegiya, you already behave like a little princess, we don’t want it to get any worse, do we?’

‘Am I not your little princess?’ You narrowed your eyes at him.

‘You are,’ he sighed in defeat. ‘I guess, you win.’

‘What did I win?’ You chuckled, pecking him on the chin.

‘I don’t know. What would you like?’

The answer came with no hesitation.

‘You.’

‘That’s cute,’ he snickered. ‘You already have me.’

‘Hm. Then I don’t need anything else.’

‘Ugh. You don’t even have to call me oppa. I’m already melting like an ice-cream cone in a warm hand.’

You snorted at his words, and he gave you a long look.

‘I wonder what you pictured just now.’

‘Baekhyun!’

‘Alright, you don’t have to tell me.’ He agreed quickly, beaming at you shamelessly.

You shook your head.

‘It probably has something to do with my dick anyways.’

At this you kicked him lightly with your knee.

‘Ouch. Love hurts.’

~~~

You and Baekhyun stayed up super late (as per usual), talking about your time apart, teasing each other and bickering about pet names. So, when it was time for you to wake up and start getting ready… You decided to have some more beauty sleep.

However, after you ignored a bunch of ‘check-in’ morning messages from your members, the usual procedure was carried out – they sent one of their own to wake you up.

‘Eonni, are you up? We have to move out in an hour.’ Your maknae’s voice reached you through the layers of bedcovers and Baekhyun, who was practically wrapped around you.

Baekhyun.

Opening your eyes, you rose on the bed and rubbed your face to get ahold of reality.

‘Eo- eonni?’

The youngest of the group stood frozen in front of your bed, eyes open wide. Even with your brain barely shaken out of sleep, you realized what stunned her.

The blond man in your bed, who had his arm wrapped around you still, stirred from the noise and laid on his back, stretching out before opening his eyes. Your gaze fell on his exposed chest, and you quickly pulled the duvet up to cover the eloquent scratch you must’ve left on his pec yesterday.

‘What’s going on?’ He asked groggily, and the third person in the room finally broke out of her lethargic state.

‘S-sorry!’ She turned around and sprinted out of your room as if a demon was chasing her.

You called after her, but the click of the door locking announced that she was already gone.

‘Ah, dammit.’ You sighed, rubbing your pulsing temple.

Baekhyun’s hand squeezed your thigh to draw your attention.

‘Sorry. I overslept and one of the girls came to wake me up. Go back to sleep, I’ll deal with it.’ You caressed his cheek gently before turning away to get out of the bed.

‘What are you going to do?’

That was the question you had been asking yourself.

‘I’m not sure,’ you admitted. ‘That was our maknae, so… she’s probably told the entire group already. She is… easily excitable.’

‘Maybe you don’t have to do anything.’ He said, looking up at you.

‘Hm?’

‘Just tell them the truth. You’re not a rookie, no one’s going to kick you out of the group or whatever.’

You sighed. He was right, of course, but… You were scared. Admitting that to your group and management would make all of this official, and there’d be no turning back after that.

‘…or, you can just forget I said that. You don’t have to tell them if you don’t want to.’

He sounded neutral, yet somehow you knew he only made it seem like he wouldn’t be hurt in this scenario. Baekhyun truly was perfect in those few months you were together, so there was no reason for you to doubt his intentions. And you also liked him, a lot.

Maybe this morning was more of a blessing than a curse?

‘I’ll tell them. I’m tired of sneaking around anyways.’

‘Really? I found that quite exciting. Being your secret lover. Sneaking into your room through the window and all that.’

‘That never happened,’ you laughed.

‘It could’ve!’

‘Shut up,’ you pecked his smiling lips and picked up your phone.

Dozens of new messages in your group chat.

‘Y/N, if you’re not telling us who that ‘blond oppa’ in your bed was, we’re coming over to your room! We’re dying over here!!’

You read the last message out loud to Baekhyun.

‘That’s why I refuse to call you that. As soon as I introduce you to them, it’s going to be ‘Baekhyun oppa’ all the time. I like to be special.’

‘Gotcha,’ he snickered. ‘But princess, text them back before the whole intervention committee walks through that door. I’m not exactly wearing underwear.’

‘Oh crap, I better.’

Masterlist

A/N: This is it for now with our freshly domesticated bf Baek~ I hope you enjoyed it the ride so far!! Let me know in the comments/ asks and reblog if you liked it ❤️

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loserforeddie · 2 years

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Worlds Apart

(Yes the title is based on Separate Ways by Journey)

Summary: You and Eddie Munson had decided to keep your relationship a secret, but still, it was hard to keep his hands to himself when you wore your cheer uniform.

Eddie Munson x cheerleader! reader

warning: a lil jealousy, moaning, neck kissing, lowkey nsfw? thigh grabbing, secret relationship.

It’s kinda short lol sorry

Word count: 1527

Enjoy!

. . .

As you jumped up and down, your skirt flowing around your thighs as your pom-poms shaked in your hands as you smiled at the crowd.

It was just practice, but your outside practices always gathered a crowd, and you couldn’t say you minded. It was nice to see people getting excited to see you and your friends perform.

All the eyes being on you, watching with such intent. It made your heartbeat a little faster. More excited. You loved the cheering and praise you all got from the crowd, loving the way other little girls would try hard to follow your moves.

And yet, your eye’s searched for one person and one person only. Your boyfriend, Eddie Munson.

You couldn’t help but bite your lip out of nervousness, your eyes searching the crowd desperately.

And then, there he was. A bit behind the bleachers, but his eyes locked on you.

His eyes were only on you, only on your body, as if his eyes physically couldn’t look away.

You smiled at him, winking before you went into a heel stretch, your skirt flying up revealing your skin-tight shorts.

You knew exactly how much he loved your cheer skirt. For someone who hated the popular crowd, he sure did love your cheer uniform.

You saw him smile at you, his eyes traveling down your legs. He may have been trying to hid himself away from the crowd, but he stuck out like a sore thumb, and you loved it.

You and Eddie had been dating for over seven months now. And you still couldn’t believe it, the freak and the cheerleader, who would have thought? Certainly not you two, that's for sure. But, here you both were, dating and madly in love with each other.

You loved how dorky Eddie was, his nerdy and charismatic personality winning you over. Besides, you never liked jocks anyway.

And Eddie was so sweet to you. Always up for anything you wanted to do, always buying you anything your eyes would even glimpse at. He would always have a hand on you, on your thigh, your hand, your hair. He just loved touching you. Anything you wanted in this whole world, Eddie wouldn’t think twice before giving it to you.

God, Eddie Munson was going to be the death of you.

The one thing about your relationship was that it was secret. No one knew, no one.

Well, besides Eddie’s uncle.

You two had decided early on into the relationship that you two wanted to keep things only between you two. Not having it out in the open made you two feel safe and better about your relationship.

But now, now you wished so bad that you could show him off. Call him yours. Kiss him deeply in public. Feels his hands on you during class, oh how you would probably die if he felt you up during class-

“Y/N!” Chrissy Cunningham squealed excitedly, “That was a good practice! You did really good.”

You smiled at Chrissy, nodding your head, “Yeah totally! Oh my god Chriss you did so well!”

As you and Chrissy talked, you felt a hand on your shoulder, “Look at you two! You both did so well!”

Your shoulders couldn’t help but cringe as you felt Jasons' hands on you, but you smiled. “Thanks, Jason!”

Chrissy smiled at him as he snaked an arm around her, “So, what are you guys up to tonight? Patrick is throwing a party tonight. Y/N you should totally come! In fact, I know Patrick has had his eye on you for a while,” Jason winked at you as you mentally threw up.

“O-oh…um no. Sorry, I promised I’d uh- help my mom today. But you guys have fun!”

You Quickly avoided any other questions that Jason had for you. making your way over to the bleachers.

But he was nowhere to be seen, as you checked the other side, you realized that your long-haired boyfriend was nowhere to be found.

“Damn it,” you sighed.

The sight of Jason must have scared him off, must have brought him back to reality, and made him realize that you two couldn’t be seen together.

Your body shivered at the thought. Maybe it was weird, to be turned on by the prospect of how taboo your relationship was. About how no one, besides you two, knew about what you were doing.

But your body felt electric, electric at the thought of having him all to yourself. Leading a double life, as a goody-two-shoes cheerleader, and as Eddie Munson's lover.

But in times like this, you did wish that you could be open. Open about your relationship, to tell your friends that you weren't going to help your mom with some chores, but instead we're going to go and see your boyfriend. Watch a stupid horror movie, cuddle up on the couch as you held his hand, knowing your lips would somehow find his by the end of the night.

You wanted desperately to tell everyone that they were wrong about Eddie Munson, that he was a sweet, gentle, and caring person. That he was the kindest and most considerate man you’ve ever met. That he was so handsome, sometimes you could barely look away from his face.

And it pissed you off, how wrong they were, how they didn’t understand him like you did.

You kicked a rock away from your foot, needing to get your frustration out.

As you made your way over to the changing rooms, still frustrated and still upset about the fact that Eddie had left due to your friends, you felt a hand tug at your skirt.

You whipped around, preparing to slap whoever hand it was away. But only two see to shining deep brown eyes staring back at you

“Eddie!” you scolded, “What are you-”

Before you could say anything else, his hands grabbed yours, tugging you away.

And you let him, his hand intertwined in yours, as you let him lead you away to the nearby forest, watching as his face remained composed but the light in his eyes never faded.

You swallowed thickly, sometimes it was hard to know what he was thinking. Those deep brown eyes never betrayed any emotion that he truly felt. Sometimes you wish desperately to reach into his mind, to know exactly what he was planning.

But maybe that was another thing to love about him, his mystery.

“Eddie, what is this,” you asked.

When Eddie was sure that no one could see you too, he pursues his lips and turned to you. “Sorry,” he said, “ I just needed you to get away from those guys. I just… I wanted to talk to you.”

You quirked an eyebrow, “Talk about what?”

Eddie sighed, looking away from you. “Well for one,” he took a step closer to you, “I really like the skirt.”

You felt a hand come over your exposed thigh, his cold rings making you flinch with the contrast of his warm hands.

He now had you pinned up against a tree, his face dangerously close to yours. So close- in face- you could hear his breathing. And by god, did you want to kiss him.

“And for two,” he said, his voice in your ear, “who the fuck is Patrick?”

You sighed. Eddie wasn’t the jealous type, he truly wasn’t. But considering how your relationship was known by only you two, he had a problem getting a little more protective.

“Some jock guy. Friends of Jasons. He…he asked me out a few days ago.”

Eddie shot back, his hand leaving your thigh as if you burned him.

“What? And you didn’t think to tell me?”

You gave him a quizzical look. He normally was very chill, he was normally the more sensible one in your relationship. Although some may find that hard to believe.

“I didn’t because I didn’t think it mattered. Eddie, I love you. And I’ve never even thought about anyone else, much less Patrick.”

Eddie bit his lip, “So what you’re saying is,” his hands coming back to your waist, “You’re all mine?”

You rolled your eyes, “Yes, Eddie,” your arms wrapped around his shoulders, “I’m all yours.”

Eddie gave you that dorky smile you loved so much, “Good, because I’m all yours sweetheart.”

His lips came crashing down on yours, and you couldn’t help but smirk as you felt his body against yours. His hands coming to squeeze your thighs before moving to your hips.

As you both deepend the kiss, you noticed just how exposed you both were, in the middle of the woods somewhere.

You pulled back, but Eddie just used that as an excuse to attack your neck.

“Eddie,” you hated how his name came out in a moan, “Eddie, we should go back to your house. Yeah? I can…” you let out another moan as he bit down on your neck.

You could feel Eddies smirk on your skin, “You can show me what, sweetheart?”

You bit you lip, hard, before saying, “I can show you a few new moves. But some I learned only for you.”

Eddie’s face shot back from your neck, looking into your eyes.

“God,” he said breathlessly, “I love you.

. . .

A little short I know, but it’s my first story for this blog so I hope you like it :)

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chiefdirector · 4 months

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Noticing | Tim Bradford | The Rookie

Act One | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17

The walk to the interrogation room was short, (Y/N) followed Lopez, hot on her heels, as she tried to mentally prepare herself. Sure, Lopez would be taking the lead but (Y/N) always disliked interrogating suspects. It was too unpredictable and she had had enough unpredictability for a lifetime.

As they approached the door, (Y/N) held her hand up to stop Lopez for a moment. Quickly she whipped out her phone, shooting a quick text to Tim.

"You alright?" Lopez asked, looking for signs of hesitation on Bradford's face.

"Yeah, I just don't know how long we will be. He worries a lot still."

Angela just nodded, "I mean, can you blame him."

Instead of replying, (Y/N) moved to open the door for her and Lopez, closing it behind them as they entered the far to cold room. She held her breath to stop herself from shivering as she sat down on the metal chair.

On the opposite side of the table was a dark haired man, his grey hood covering most of his face. He looked down, refusing to acknowledge the two women. His clothes were nothing to marvel at, they weren't scruffy but were nowhere near neat, almost as if they had been scrunched on the ground after they had been washed.

His sleeves were pushed up his arms, revealing his tattoos. They were mostly dragons and other types of script work. There was, however, one tattoo that stood out from the rest.

It was a snake, wrapping in and out of his fingers and up his hand, connecting to the dragon on his wrist. It had aged somewhat, the delicate lines almost blurring together. The black in took up almost all of his hand, the only colour was the deep red eyes. (Y/N) could almost feel the thing looking at her, although she wouldn't have blamed it if it did because she was staring just as intently.

She had seen it before, not in the same placement, but it sure as hell was the same snake. It was the eyes that gave it away, it wasn't something she was likely to ever forget. It had seemed strange for a waiter in a high end restaurant to have such a tattoo on display, but maybe it wasn't just a tattoo, maybe it was a symbol of something more.

"What are you staring at, lady?" he grumbled at (Y/N), snapping her from her thoughts. "Something you like? Because I can show you a good time if you ask me nicely."

Angela rolled her eyes as (Y/N) spoke for the first time since they had entered the room. "Your tattoo... Mean anything?"

"Nothing that a pretty thing like you need to know."

"We are asking in a law enforcement capacity. Non-compliance can add to a sentence if you're charged. Now, does she need to ask again" Lopez said, redirecting the attention back to her, noticing that the other detective wasn't quite with it.

"It's a pact. Me and my brothers got them. Show loyalty."

Lopes scrawled down his words in her notepad. "And why a snake?"

"Wasn't my choice. I just got it." He leaned back in his chair, "Now are we done here, lady, because I've got places to be"

"Yes. You're free to go, but don't leave the city in case we have any more questions." Angela snapped her notebook shut before guiding the man out.

———

"What got into you then?"

(Y/N) didn't need to turn around to know it was Angela behind her. After spending so many years working with her friend, she had come to tell when she was near, and slightly annoyed. "I've seen that tattoo before."

Lopez finally caught up. "Is it like a gang one? Something to look out for?"

"I'm not sure," (Y/N) stopped in the corridor, lowering her voice slightly. "Look, I'm sure it's nothing. It's just when me and Tim went out the other night, the waiter had the same tattoo on his neck."

"Could it not just be two men with snake tattoos."

"Yes... no. Maybe." (Y/N) rocked back on her heels as she considered her answer. "It was the eyes that were the same. I didn't see the tattoo in whole, like I said. It's probably nothing. I'm just being paranoid."

"We'll tell Grey, get it into a report. Better safe than sorry." Angela held her hand out, gesturing for (Y/N) to walk alongside her to the Watch Commander's office.

(Y/N) looked down at her feet as she walked, a sad smile adoring her face. "Thanks Ange, it means a lot. But do you think you could do me a favour; don't tell Tim. There's nothing to know at the moment."

"Are you-" Lopez began to say, only to be cut off from a voice behind her.

"Don't tell Tim what?"

Both detectives turned around to be greeted by Tim, standing strong in his blue. His face was hardened , eyebrows raised in questions, and his arms crossed along his chest.

"About our super secret love affair, Timothy." Angela said, quickly making her exit. She had learnt long ago not to get caught between the two Bradford's, especially since they were both as stubborn as each other.

"Do I want to know?" He asked after a moment, moving forward to place a gentle arm on (Y/N)'s. He wouldn't admit it, but he liked to feel her, it was a reminder that she was here and she wasn't going away anytime soon.

"Nope!" (Y/N) just laughed again, knowing that it would annoy Tim somewhat. She knew that he didn't need to know all of her hunches but it didn't mean that she couldn't have some fun with it at the same time. "Although..."

"Although what?"

(Y/N) pulled back from her husband, taking a few steps as she turned back to him, shooting him a wink. "The dude we had in interrogation. Totally into me."

Before he could respond, (Y/N) had turned on her heel again, moving down the corridor. Leaving Tim no option but just to shake his head at her.

"Hey, are you ready to go?" Chen asked, as she walked in from the direction (Y/N) had just left in.

"Sure boot. Let's go."

Chapter 17 | Chapter 19

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Tags: @xceafh @kmc1989 @buba424 @salty0cracker @iamasimpingh0e @malindacath @hufflepuffwhore13 @agentred27

Tags are open :)

#tim bradford #tim bradford x reader #tim bradford imagine #the rookie imagine #the rookie #bottom of the river #chiefdirector

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leoncillo · 10 months

Text

A little risque but SFW, GN reader, Black reader, Zohakuten best fashionista

You notice the boys have been a bit listless so you decide to take them out. But individually. It must be tiring always being part of a group, right?

Itadakimasu! *Hides face in hands and runs away*

Karaku

"Babeee, it's still day time. And we had a long mission last night. Le'me sleep" said Karaku covering his face with the blanket as you tried to rouse him awake.

"I know, I know. But our date is tonight and I need you to take this pill before then."

"What does it do?" he asked, lowering the blanket enough to see his narrowed, suspicious eyes.

"Lady Tamayo said it'll let you have human food for a day without getting sick. But you have to take it hours in advance."

In seconds, Karaku took the pill from your hands, tossed it down his throat, and went back to sleeping. "Okay. Good morning. Bye!" he shouted, smacking your ass to get you to leave the room.

You thought about slamming the door on your way out, but didn't wanna hear Sekido's mouth. "I swear these men get more rude every day" you pouted, "but this is going perfectly", your pout melted into a malicious grin.

Somewhere out there Hantengu's main body shivered in unbridled fear.

"Now what to wear? Maybe Zohakuten has an idea." I can't believe that child has that good of a fashion sense. Granted he's like 1000 years old, but still.

The night came quicker than you expected. For this date, you needed to wear something that wasn't too complicated and constricting. You decided on a dark green pantsuit and black open toed espadrille heels. You kept your hair simple with a loose braid down your back and a matching green headband.

You waited at the door with the other three brothers wondering what was keeping Karaku. Zohakuten must've had his work cut out for him.

You were proven wrong when Karaku appeared at the top of the stairs and struck a Jojo pose.

Or he's just a goddamn diva!

You had to admit he looked good though. He had on a short sleeve green and white pinstriped silk button up (top buttons unbuttoned of course), slouchy black pants, and crisp, white canvas shoes. His unruly hair was contained, but wavy and voluminous and swept away from his face. An ear cuff with a leaf shaped charm and emerald stone in the center was clipped to his right ear and a silver ring on each ring finger.

"Well aren't you fancy tonight?" you grinned as he arrogantly made his way down the stairs.

"I gotta keep up with you, don't I?" he said as he grabbed your hand, kissed it, and winked.

Oh he's good.

"You're so dramatic! Don't fuck up and embarrass them!" said Sekido.

"Make sure you're a gentleman the whole time" said Aizetsu.

"Ooh what's that shiny thing on your ear? Can I have one for my date?!" said Urogi.

"Yeah yeah yeah! I know what I'm doing! Let's go, y/n" he said rushing you outside before his brothers had anything else to say.

He seemed eager as you pulled up to the hotel. The lights were blinding. There was a huge fountain in front with backlights of various colors, a statue of a naked goddess, a digital marcee showcasing some of the specials and deals on rooms, and even a valet service.

"It's a hotel AND restaurant? So after we eat we don't even have to leave to go fu-"

"Aht! The point of today is to show you that there are different ways to feel pleasure than just sex. Like food."

The inside of the building was even more spectacular than the outside. A river of water filled with koi snaked through the floors of the rooms, small bridges were placed for patrons to step over it when necessary. There was a live band and traditional Japanese dancers.

"Wow this place is awesome! I hope the food lives up to everything else. I didn't eat all day just for this!" said Karaku as the two of you were led to your private area.

"I really hope you like at least some of it", you said suddenly feeling nervous, "It's been forever since you've gotten to experience human food...well I guess you never have, huh?"

"Hey, that is right! We only manifested after the main body became a demon. Hm. I never thought about it before" said Karaku looking around excitedly, "How do we order?"

You jumped at the question. "O-Oh I ordered ahead of time so that way it wouldn't be a long wait before we got to eat. I should go check on all of that. You just stay here and get comfortable, baby" you said before you zoomed off through the door.

After 15 minutes, you still hadn't returned. Karaku was about to go check on you before a dinner bell was rung and a long cart covered in a black cloth was rolled to your booth. The tray was oddly human shaped. He wondered why he had to take that pill if they were just gonna serve him human anyway, but he just shrugged it off and went to take a sip of water. Food was food.

"I would like to present you with our signature special", said the waiter before he quickly removed the cloth only to reveal your naked body. Your more private parts covered by small trays of food and dips. The waiter promptly bowed and left the room with a straight face as if he was numb to it all by now.

Karaku choked on the water and had a small coughing fit, nearly falling out of his chair.

"Uh. Hi. Bone apple teeth" you said when he finally got a hold of himself.

He clasped his hands together in front of his face and took a deep inhale and exhale before gesturing at the scene before him. He opened his mouth to speak only to close it again. You could practically hear the dial up internet beeping in his head.

"Oh no. I broke him" you said to yourself.

Unfortunately for you, he recovered quickly and broke into a huge grin.

"Aww babe. You're treating me to dinner?" he said rubbing his hands together, "and even the plate....is edible" he continued as he looked you directly in the eyes and licked his lips.

You gulped. You knew he meant metaphorically, but you also realized HAD he wanted to eat you literally, you practically just seasoned yourself. Congratulations. Millions of years of human evolution for these exact reasons and you serve yourself to an apex predator on a silver platter.

Aw shit.

"Now what should I try first? None of these look familiar" he looked over his options excitedly.

"Maybe start with a piece of sashimi?" you gestured towards the slices of fish near your sternum. "I like them with soy sauce"

You watched his eyes light up as he practically whimpered at the combination. "Ooh that's good. The texture is a bit weird, though. What's this?"

He went to bring the maki roll dipped in soy sauce to his mouth, but a drop of it landed on the middle of your chest. You shuddered as it started to drip towards your collarbone.

"Oh jeez. Maybe I should ask for more napkiiiiiins!" you yelped as he quickly licked a line from the drop all the way up to your ear.

"Nah I think we're good here. Don't you?" he asked, pupils blown wide and the "upper four" getting harder to read.

After quite a bit of food, Karaku finally put his chopsticks down and stretched in his chair. You were thankfully NOT eaten, but you were gonna have to have a talk about the bite marks on your thighs and shoulders that he "accidentally" made.

"Wow, I couldn't eat another bite. This was fun, y/n! Next time can we try pizza? I've always wondered what it tastes like."

A waiter came in to offer you a robe to change into before heading to your room. "So will we be skipping dessert tonight or shall I bring the dessert menu?" asked the waiter.

"I think we're goo-ahhh" you tried to say before Karaku threw you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"I'm just gonna take my dessert to go. Where's our room?"

"What? I thought you said you were full!"

"Babe, there's always room for dessert."

You couldn't walk straight for 3 days after.

#demon slayer #hantengu clones #karaku x reader

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mhbcaps · 5 months

Text

also here's an explicit Sanctuary/Joey vignette that I wrote 👁u👁 dirty talk and d/s dynamics ahoy (fair warning it just jumps right in there dude the dicks are already out)

happy Thursday bonus!

---

"Maybe I'll let you put your cock in my mouth," they said. "You'd like that. Fuck my face, even. Grab my hair and make me take the whole thing. You'd lose control." They leaned forward to lay their cheek against his thigh, one hand snaking over his hip and up his belly, so close, tantalizing, torturous -

"Can I?" Joey breathed, hardly able to say it past his heart in his throat.

"Would you do it?" Sanctuary asked. "Lose yourself? Come undone? Put me in my fucking place?" Their nails dug into his ribs.

"Yes, God yes, I - I'd fuck your throat raw, bruise it, you wouldn't talk for days -"

Sanctuary closed their eyes as he spoke, turned their face just slightly to kiss his thigh, the barest smile twisting the corner of their mouth.

"I know you'd love that, baby," they said, their breath warm against his skin. "You've been so good." They dragged their mouth up toward his groin, smearing black lipstick along his thigh. Joey groaned, soft and breathy, his hands gripping at the bedsheets.

"Can I?" he asked again, a little louder, a little more desperate. Sanctuary leaned up to press a too-dry, too-chaste kiss to the underside of his weeping cock.

"No," they said matter-of-factly, and straightened up, sitting back on their heels and withdrawing their hands to rest them in their lap. Joey stared at them, wracking his brain for what they could possibly want from him - it wasn't often they got on their knees for him, lay their head in his lap... his belly felt so tight with arousal, his cock full and heavy and waiting, he wanted terribly for Sanctuary to just pin him down and fuck him the way they were so good at, he wanted their claws digging into his hips, he wanted to be filled and he could not figure out what they wanted him to do for it this time. He squirmed under their gaze, his stomach fluttering. They weren't upset with him - their punishments were clear and intentional. They were just teasing him, in their odd way.

Sanctuary stood and took Joey's chin in their hand, making him look up at them. They only lingered there for a moment, thumb caressing the side of his jaw, before they pushed him back flat on the bed. Their hands came down to his thighs again, pushing his legs together, pinning them between their own, and they leaned over him with a look of... curiosity. Some amusement. Joey felt like a curio on display. He ran a hand over his own chest as he stared back at them, trailing his fingers down his sternum and around his nipple. A light touch, but with Sanctuary's attention on him, even that made his jaw slacken with pleasure.

"Look at you," they said, soft, almost sweet. They climbed onto the bed, kneeling over him, their skirt stretched tight across their thighs, accentuating the bulge where their cock strained against the fabric. "So obedient. Won't do a thing without my permission. You ever think about fucking me?"

"Sometimes," Joey said.

"Like?" Sanctuary took him by the wrists, dragging his hands to their hips.

" Like... like when you're ignoring me," he said. "When my punishments just make me mad."

"Go on," Sanctuary purred.

"Am I gonna get in trouble?" Joey asked. Maybe even hoped, just a little. Sanctuary smiled at him.

"No, baby," they said, "I want to know. How do you think about fucking me? You think about pinning me down?"

"Yes." Joey's cock twitched.

"I bet you want to leave bruises." Joey nodded. "Where?"

"On your neck," Joey answered, perhaps a little too quick. Sanctuary's smile widened. "Your wrists."

"You want to make sure I can't get away," Sanctuary said. "You could do it. You're stronger than me."

"Yeah," Joey breathed.

"But you don't. 'Cause you need permission, huh?"

"I need your permission."

"That's right." Sanctuary reached out and lay their 'ganic hand against Joey's cheek, brushing their thumb over his lips. He opened his mouth and let it slip in, and Sanctuary cooed softly.

"Good boy. You're so sweet, waiting so patiently." They sank lower over him, their skirt rubbing all too lightly against his cock. Joey closed his lips around their thumb with a soft moan. He leaned into their touch, his eyes fluttering shut and his grip tightening on their hips. Sanctuary thrust gently in and out of his mouth, their acrylic nail sharp and hard against his tongue, bitter from their strong-scented soap. Then they leaned down and replaced their thumb with their tongue in a deep, sweet kiss, their hand trailing down Joey’s chin to rest gently at his throat.

Joey ached—he tilted his hips up, desperate for friction, but Sanctuary moved smoothly with him, keeping the barest contact between their skirt and his cock. They sat up, putting a little pressure on his neck to keep him down.

“Control yourself,” they said. “After I just said how patient you’re being? Don’t make me take it back.”

Joey licked his lips, staring up at them and imagining, just for a moment, disobeying completely and pushing Sanctuary onto the bed to pin them down and fuck them himself. But he wouldn’t. He knew he was in good hands, even as they teased him.

Sanctuary gazed down at him thoughtfully for a long moment, then said, “Pull my skirt up.”

For a second, Joey hesitated, like he thought he hadn’t heard right. Then he hooked his thumbs under the hem of Sanctuary’s skirt and pulled it up around their hips, exposing their cock. Their silk thong had slipped aside, unable to contain their hard length. For all their composure, sly and calm, their cock was flushed, weeping almost as much as Joey’s. He licked his lips again.

“Don’t get too excited, baby,” Sanctuary said. “I’m gonna take you at my pace, nice and slow.”

They finally sat, warm and heavy against him, and rolled their hips. Joey groaned, and Sanctuary leaned down to kiss him again, shifting their weight back and forth as they did, grinding against his cock. He grabbed their hips, squeezing hard to keep himself from pushing down. My pace, they’d said. He wasn’t about to disobey.

#sanctuary #joey

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staceymcgillicuddy · 9 months

Note

73 for the writing meme 👀

This one got dirtier than I expected so ur welcome I guess! Mwah!

“Stop being a fucking prick, Munson.”

“Oh, Andrew,” Eddie says, left foot tapping against the floor by Chrissy’s knee. “I have not yet begun to prick.”

Chrissy covers her mouth to stifle a giggle, then drops her other hand to Eddie’s crotch, where he’s one hundred percent hard, and she was one hundred percent about to blow him before Andy walked in to interrupt his prep session for the Hellfire Club thingamajigger that’s happening after school.

And, okay, the whole blow job thing wasn’t Chrissy’s intention when she strolled in and sat on his lap and told him she was bored and didn’t want to go to study hall, but as with most things to do with Eddie, their conversation had turned into a series of escalating bets that ended with her under the table, biting the inside of his thigh just because.

So, yeah, Eddie’s a pretty fun boyfriend. A brand new boyfriend. A Metallica-loving action figure she can pose and play with, who likes biting and kissing and getting his hand up her skirt and being really loud when he comes. (Hence the bet…)

Only, her old boyfriend hasn’t quite come to terms with the fact that Chrissy’s done playing with him. He has been cleaned, repackaged, and donated to Goodwill, where she’s sure he’ll make some other girl very happy with his sweet kisses, good manners, and wholesome values.

Chrissy is not sweet, good, or wholesome. Eddie knows this. It’s just a pity that Jason is taking so long to catch up to the reality in which he has been dumped.

“Where is she?” Andy presses.

Chrissy rolls her eyes and takes hold of Eddie’s zipper, dragging it down interminably slowly, protected from the world by the heavy black cloth he insists on draping over what would otherwise be an extremely ordinary table.

Eddie twitches and presses his foot into her thigh. Chrissy squeezes his dick. Que sera sera.

“I don’t know, man,” Eddie says. “Unlike your buddy, I don’t need to put a tracking collar on my girlfriend.”

“She’s not your girlfriend,” Andy snaps, just as Chrissy gets her hand inside Eddie’s blue-checked boxers.

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie says, and the table shakes above her, presumably because he hit it. Closed fist, probably. Excellent. She’s winning. “Go tell her that, then.”

“I would if I could find her!”

“Love that Carver sends you to do his dirty work, man. I—” Eddie stops abruptly. Chrissy sits back on her heels and licks her lips. Works like a charm every time. “Uh. Sorry, what?”

“What?”

“Did you say something?”

“No…” Andy sounds confused, but then, Andy usually does. “Are you higher than usual, Munson?”

“Something like that.” Eddie’s fingers snake beneath the table, palm pressing against Chrissy’s forehead before she can lean in for another taste. “Can you get the fuck out of here, please? I’m busy.”

“Whatever. If you see Chris, can you tell her Jason wants to talk?”

“Absolutely not. Fuck off.”

“Prick,” Andy mutters again, though his footsteps retreat, and Chrissy hears the backstage door swing shut a few seconds later.

“Shitting shit, Cunningham,” Eddie says, pulling up the tablecloth and scooting back so he can look down at her. “You’re nuts.”

“Yes, and?”

“The sheepies are gonna be here in like half an hour.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And Gareth comes early to help me set up.”

“Obviously, Eddie,” she says, then licks her lips. “Besides, I have practice.”

Other prompts from this meme!

#bsc diaries #cunninghamchrissie #fanfic #one day i will write a full chrissy the sex starved freak thing #but today is simply a taste #prompt meme

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marsipanic · 1 year

Photo

LanceXOC Jealousy fic Part 1/2.

I just needed a jealous Lance. And I need a desperately in love Lance. And also I had this whole idea surrounding this outfit as seen above and I needed to write my beautiful Wynifred in it.

But yeah these two don’t know how to talk about feelings. Fenn starts shit, that ends up helping. Hawke being funny.

https://open.spotify.com/track/0SqgZ5KpfX24W8ZeGzOle2?si=da76fc37a6284320 This is the jealous Lance theme song, sorry I don’t make the rules.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Are you sure about this?”

Wyn turned in the shop mirror and frowned. The dress that Letty and Sherry had helped her pick out was more revealing than she was ever used to. Black satin fell close against the contours of her body, and stopped around her ankles, peering through a slit in the leg, and met by a pair of crystal heels that twirled around them. Her midriff was just barely viewable through the strategically placed lace, and her shoulders were bare but for small, thin straps that held the dress up, and crossed in between her shoulder blades. It was otherwise backless, and the fabric peaked into a deep v that peaked, conveniently, at the small of her back, drawing attention to her rump. Letty picked some delicate, silver armlets, and Sherry chose a simple, silver and crystal choker that resembled a snake biting its tail.

“You look exquisite. Every man in Saligia would fall at your feet for a dance,” Letty said. Sherry nodded in agreement.

“Lance will have to pick his jaw off the floor, I believe,” she smiled at Wyn through the mirror. “Who knew you had such a figure.”

Wyn blushed but nodded. She had asked the pair for some advice. Discreetly. It somehow turned into Wyn confessing her feelings for Lance, agonizing over how to tell him, as neither of them were very eloquent with words, and asking for a way to make him look at her differently, as more than a friend.

“Do you…honestly think he’ll like it?” Wyn asked. Would he even notice? She knew he wasn’t the type to care about finery and such.

“I daresay, if he doesn’t, I’d be more than happy to abscond with you.”

Fenn had snuck his way into the dressing area, and was leaning against the threshold, with an amused glint in his eye. Wyn immediately felt blood rush to her face, and panic in her chest.

“How much did you hear?” She shouted, but Letty was way ahead of her, and caught him by his ear.

“Scoundrel,” she growled. “I know you are not going to try and ruin this for our dear Wynifred. I shall destroy you if you do.”

Fenn’s confident smirk was now an apologetic grin as he squirmed under Letty’s hold.

“I wouldn’t dream of it! In fact, I was going to offer my assistance,” he said.

Letty released him, but all three of the girls eyed the prince suspiciously.

“How so?” Wyn asked.

The mischievous look returned to Fenn’s expression and he eyed Wyn up and down before speaking.

“A little jealousy goes a long way,” he said. “We may goad the lad into admitting how he feels about you.”

“Be serious,” Wyn said. “He would never fall for such cheap tricks. And how would you even know how he feels about me?”

“I do have a certain way of knowing things. His tongue does tend to get a bit loose after he’s been in his cups,” Fenn said.

“Well, what has he said?” Wynn was growing impatient, and more embarrassed by the minute.

“Well, I cannot tell you that, or it would spoil all the fun!”

At this, all three girls groaned and rolled their eyes.

“Out with you,” Violet said and continued to push Fenn, until he was out of the shop.

Wyn stared at her reflection in the mirror once more and took a deep breath. No schemes or tricks. That was never their way together, anyway. She liked Lance for his honesty, his protectiveness, and subtle kindness. Even when he was hard-headed, he was admirable and brave. She was sure he was quite above things like petty jealousy.

So the dress would have to do.

***

Lance sat at his usual place in the tavern, and had just ordered another round for himself when Fenn, Jasper, and Hawke came in, and started their usual goading.

“Come on, now, Lad!” Hawke called. “Come now and sit with us!”

Lance tried to ignore them. The only reason he was alone was because Wyn said she was busy that evening, going to prepare for the ball with Violet and Sherry.

“Since when do you care about all that poncy rubbish?” He had asked her. Lance thought he saw a slight flush of pink on her cheeks before she had turned her head away.

“Ugh, you just forget I told you,” Wyn said and left, quite abruptly.

It was all very odd, and he was momentarily confused about why she was suddenly so guarded, but then he thought it must be something between the girls. That had to be the case because they told each other most things. At least, he thought they did.

“Lance!” Hawke called again, and this time Lance answered.

“Quiet down! I’ll bloody sit, stop yelling,” he said and placed himself between Jasper and Fenn.

“Oh, excellent. I met with Wyn, who was with Sherry and Violet in the dress shop, and I thought it odd you were not by her side,” Fenn said, smiling. “Now, I see you were not invited.”

Lance knew Luxure was trying to get under his skin, as he always did, but it did irritate him that he was with Wynn at all that day, and she did not ask Lance to join her.

“A couple’s quarrel, lad?” Hawke said, smiling behind his mug.

“We’re not a couple,” Lance said.

“Indeed! You wouldn’t be interested in the…provocative dress she picked out, for certain,” Fenn noted the piqued interest and unease in Lance’s expression and pressed on. “I do wonder who she meant when she said she had hoped it would garner his attentions.”

At this, Lance choked on his absinthe and began to cough violently. Hawke, Jasper, and Fenn all laughed, and Jasper gently patted him on his back, sympathetically.

“It seems that Miss Wynifred’s interest in other men has come as a shock,” he said.

“Seems you took too long, mate. Unfortunate, but what did you expect,” Hawke said, shaking his head.

“I must say,” Fenn swirled his wine glass, amused. “She looked ravishing. It was quite unexpected from our lovely Opal, who, believe it or not, has an exquisite figure--”

“That’s enough,” Lance said. He was angry, now, and panicked. Why hadn’t he noticed that Wyn’s attentions had been elsewhere? He knew he hadn’t always been clear about his feelings for her, but it was obvious to everyone that he did, in fact, harbor feelings. He had just assumed she was comfortable being friends, and he didn’t want to ruin it. He just always wanted to be by her side. Had she really fallen for someone else, without him noticing?

“Damn, you lot,” Lance abruptly stood and made for the door.

“We’ll see you at the ball then?” Fenn called after.

***

Wyn took a few deep breaths as she stood behind the doors to the ballroom. She could hear the festivities alive and bustling inside and her nerves were tumbling inside her stomach. Letty and Sherry had all gotten ready together, and they spent some time arranging Wyn’s midnight-colored hair into a beautifully disheveled bun that let fall some flattering strands around her face and neck. She sprayed a lilac perfume that was magically altered to the persons emotions, and she was feeling…excited. And terrified.

“Just act normal,” she whispered to herself, and stepped through the foyer.

The ballroom came to a halt as she stood alone by the entrance. The chattering trickled away as all eyes found her and widened in surprise and awe. Fenn had always referred to her as the “peculiar beauty” as people found Wynifred pretty, with her strange eyes, and small frame, although a bit unorthodox and cold in her way. But she had rendered a whole room of people, dressed in their best finery, completely speechless.

It was when girls began to notice their paramours gawking that the noise strummed up again, and Wyn felt like she could breathe easier. Her eyes searched the room for the one person she was looking for.

Lance was standing near the drink table, having a conversation with Hawke about nothing he could remember, when Wyn entered the room. And he was struck silent, just as everyone else. He felt himself become impossibly still, and his heart thrummed in his ears at the sight of her. Wyn was always beautiful to him, in her oversized cargo jacket, or asleep, drooling upon her tomes. He had watched her read in the sun, and admired the shadows her lashes cast upon her cheek, and felt bewitched by the way the colors in her eyes shifted in the light. He knew she was beautiful. But there, standing coyly in black satin and lace that gave way to all the parts of her he had admittedly thought of running his hands over, she was magic.

A hard slap on the shoulder reminded him of Hawkes presence, who had been watching Lance’s expressions with smug satisfaction.

“You’ll catch flies, with your mouth hanging open like that,” he said. “Anyways, here she comes. Try to be a gentleman, would you?”

“What is that supposed to mean,” Lance snapped, but Hawke had already began walking away, and Wyn was approaching, and he started to panic. What was he supposed to say to her? She was here to impress someone else, but that thought put gnarling twists in his gut, and he was coming to find that he couldn’t bear it.

“Hi,” Wyn took a drink from the table and sipped it, hoping it would help with her nerves some. Lance was staring straight ahead, and the scowl on his face was even more visceral than usual. Please, look at me, she thought.

“Hello, I suppose,” he said, coldly. Wyn tilted her head.

“What’s wrong? Someone spit in your cups?” She asked with a chuckle. Look at me.

“Something like that,” his gaze stayed fixed on a far-off point and Wyn’s confidence began to shrink.

“Oh, come on. I know you hate these things, but I figured we could—” she started, and Lance finally turned on her, although it was hardly the look Wyn had hoped for.

“Go on, then, on your own,” he snapped, a snarl evident on his face. “Enjoy yourself lots of attention in that costume of yours.”

Wyn flinched at his words and Lance felt almost immediately ill from guilt.

“You…hate it,” she said, casting her eyes downward, a sad, incredulous smile pulling at the corner of her mouth.

No, Lance thought. It’s irresistible, and that’s the problem.

“I don’t see why it matters at all,” he said instead.

She opened her mouth to speak, but then shut it, in fear of her voice betraying that she was on the verge of tears. Wyn swallowed, gave a single nod and, too crestfallen to retort, walked with as much dignity as she could muster to the opposite side of the ballroom.

Wyn pushed back humiliated tears and did her best to pretend she was unbothered. She hadn’t a clue what she had done that had made Lance so cross with her but it didn’t matter. Her plan to tell him how she felt, to take him to her chambers, was a wash, it seemed, and she had put on this “costume” for nothing.

An arm draped around her, and she felt Fenn’s cheek pressed to hers.

“My, my, Opal. You certainly know how to arrest a room. You are the most beautiful woman here. Why do you look so glum?”

“Not now,” Wyn croaked. She had no patience for his games and flirting and was already humiliated.

“It seems Lance is not quite convinced to take charge, quite yet” he said. “But do you remember what I said about jealousy, Opal?”

Wyn thought for a moment. Petty indignance rose up in her chest. Why should she spend the night weeping over him? If he didn’t want her, if he didn’t feel the same, then why shouldn’t she dance with the others…

“What do you have in mind,” Wyn asked, and Fenn smirked, knowingly.

#court of darkness #Lance Ira #Lance Sata #CoD Lance #my oc

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landograndprix · 2 years

Text

merry fucking christmas ▪︎ b.b

request — Girl, dbf!bucky. That's it that's the request

18+ only, minors dni!

— warnings: mentions of alcohol, age-gap (undefined, readers of age), smut, unprotected sex, pet names (baby, baby girl), it's pretty vanilla.

— wordcount: 1.7k+

— this is a repost from my old account, I'm slowly going to put my old stuff on here since I'm going to deactivate the other!

Bucky can't remember the last time he had to carry his drunk best friend upstairs and drag him through the seemingly long hallway and let the man fall onto his bed to let him sleep through yet another drunken state of mind. He couldn't let his wife or daughter do such a thing.

His best friend rarely ended up like this, always knew when to stop drinking but the eggnog his wife had made was to die for and the red wine at dinner just hit right and with the beers during the evening, his system had shut down after an hour of stuttering words of affirmations and giggle fits. His Christmas was a success.

A Christmas like every other year, at least for his best friend and his wife– this year Christmas had a whole different meaning to Bucky. Able to celebrate with her, his girl, his best friend's daughter. And though it could've never been like he wanted to go, the evening had been wonderful.

But the stolen kisses and soft touches whenever her parents were too busy to notice and that dress she'd worn with those high heels had him wanting more– if he could he'd steal her away and end the night the right way but he can't, not with her mother still walking around the house.

His feet hit the last step of the stairs and wanders back into the entrance and with a quick peek into the open living and dining room, he spots her mother and straight ahead through the open door, he sees her in the kitchen– knowing the place like the back of his hand he know it's safe for now.

He's got a plan, at least he's making a plan as he sneaks past the living room and as he reaches the kitchen, takes a few steps to where she's cleaning the dishes– she jumps up at the sudden touch of his arm snaking around her waist and his body flush against her back, the hot breath that fans her neck as bucky kisses the soft skin sends a shiver down her spine.

"Stop, my mom's in the other room."

Bucky hums and places a kiss behind her ear and whispers an idea that had popped up in his mind a second ago.

"How about I'll tell your mother I am leaving, tell her goodbye but instead of walking through that door, I sneak into your room."

"She won't buy that. She wants to walk you out."

"I'll figure something out, you just trust me baby– we're going to end this night the right way." Bucky mumbles in her ear.

He takes a step back and let's go of her, smacks her ass in a playful manner making her jump up, bucky grins.

He'll figure something out, he always does. It wouldn't be the first time he'd managed to sneak into her room late at night without her parents figuring out– fucking their daughter into her mattress while they're two rooms away from their bedroom.

And as he steps out of the kitchen and rounds the corner, he clears his throat, getting the attention from the woman leaning over the dining table, wiping a cloth over the wood surface.

"Oh, hi bucky," she smiles at him "I thought you'd left already."

"No, not yet– was about to but you need help with anything before I leave?"

The woman stands up straight and shakes her head as she looks around the room "no, I think we're good– let me walk you out."

"No, you stay inside, it's freezing out– I'll see myself out."

"I can walk you out, it's no problem, really."

Bucky shakes his head and flashes her a warm smile "you just stay inside, help the kid with the dishes and get in bed with your drunk husband– it's been a long day."

"Yeah, it really has been a long day–" She smiles back "and you're right, I should help the lady."

Bucky watches her move and wrings the cloths in her hands and stands still right in front of him.

"It's nice you could join us for the evening, bucky."

"Wouldn't want to miss your cooking–"

"Oh, stop it," she cuts his sentence short "it was nothing– now you make sure you get home safe."

Nodding, Bucky says his goodbye to the woman and watches her walk away through the hall and into the kitchen where she disappears out of his sight. And he takes it as his cue to move.

Walking to the front door, Bucky grabs his jacket from the rack and wraps his hand around the knob, opens the door slightly before pushing it back in its lock, making it seem he'd left. With a few careful strides up the step, he's back upstairs.

It's a familiar path, one walked many times before and though he'd enjoyed it more to have his girl over at his house where they had all the time, all the room and could be as loud as possible, spending a night in her bed was exciting, the thrill of getting caught was way too fun.

Her door is ajar as if she knew he'd sneak in later that night– lord knows he'd almost woken her parents up the first time, the door creaking loudly, echoing through a silent home. Slipping through the crack, his nostrils fill with his favorite scent, her fruity and sweet scent.

It doesn't take long, ten minutes maybe before he hears footsteps coming up the stairs and hears a friendly exchange between mother and daughter, wishing each other goodnight– the hallway lights turning off. He's nearly blinded as she turns on the big lights and closes the door behind her.

They meet eyes and both grin knowingly.

She kicks her heels off and turns off the light before beelining to the lamp on her bedside table. Soft yellow light illuminating the room.

They don't speak, looks saying enough– they have to be quiet after all.

And as she rounds her bed, she slowly saunters to the men who'd taken place in the chair tucked in the corner of her room– he extends his arms, taking her hands in his to pull her onto his lap. And as she sits down, her arms wrap around his neck, his hand placed on her back.

"Hi there." She whispers softly.

"Hi, baby girl."

It's insane how her lips against his move in sync and how their tongues dance together in a heated, breathtaking, long awaited, lust filled kiss. And it's insane how her kiss, her hands in his hair and her clothes cunt against his clothes groin make him unbelievably hard– it had been too long.

A groan that pushes past his lips as she grinds against his dick is swallowed by the kiss– quietly.

"You're going to be the death of me, baby," he whispers against her lips "I need you right now."

She pulls back from his lips and smiles ever so sweetly, something he'd fallen in love with, and stands up from his laps. Wordlessly unzips her dress and turns on her heels as the fabric slides down her body. And as she walks to her bed, her panties and bra discard.

Bucky's quick to follow, pieces of clothing in a trail behind him as he follows her– his eyes filling with list as he watches her crawl on the bed and lays down with her legs propped up.

With a low growl, Bucky crawls up onto the soft mattress and pushes her legs apart with his knee as he hovers over her body to meet her lips in a searing kiss again.

Placing his elbow next to her head, he reaches his other arm down their body's, a soft moan falling from her lips as he slides his fingers through her folds– pulling away from her lips, bucky lets his head fall and buries his face in her neck to brave himself for what's about to come. Wrapping his hands around his hard cock, he runs the tip of cock through her folds before pushing his length into her slowly and fully. Two broken and soft moans filling the room.

It has become their specialty, learned over the past few months of being together– quite sex, no noise.

Her nails dig in the flesh of his shoulders when he picks up his speed, thrusting in and out of her– bucky hooks his hand around her knee and lifts it up, wrapping it around his waist, the new angle making both of them moan again.

"Baby, you're so tight." Bucky whispers "been so fucking long."

She breathes out a silent 'yeah' but closes her mouth quickly, afraid a loud moan would escape into the silence, raising any suspicion.

Her nails dig a little deeper into his skin, toes curling as he hits the spot with each thrust. The familiar band tightens in her abdomen.

It had been too long indeed.

Bucky knows she's close. Her breathing faster, her wall tightening and though he has his face buried in her neck, he can see her facial features go through the emotions of ecstasy.

Pulling her leg up further, he holds it tights. Bucky picks up his speed even more, his hips snapping against hers, balls hitting her cunt with every thrust and for a second, Bucky doesn't care that her bed creaks or a moan falls from her lips– he needs her to cum. He needs her to finish before him.

Lifting himself up, resting all his weight on his elbow, they meet eyes again and lips crash against each other again in a messy, sloppy kiss.

Burying his cock deep inside her with a few harse thrusts, he walls clench around him, her arms wrapping around his neck and pulls him down forcefully. Her moans are muffled by the kiss as the band snaps, giving her the orgasm she'd been waiting for all night. And with a few inconsistent, sloppy thrust and the clenching around his cock, bucky too cums. Painting her walls white with his seed.

Breaking the kiss, the both gasp for air and ride out their high. Bucky chuckles quietly.

"Merry fucking Christmas to me."

"Shut up, you idiot." She chuckles back.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes

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frogtanii · 3 years

Text

[buckle up; this one is a long one (1.6k words)]

things weren’t supposed to turn out this way.

she was supposed to show up, apologize “sincerely,” and the boys, her boys, were supposed to welcome her with open arms and swiftly discard of you.

instead, she was sitting in the back of a cramped police car with two pigs, one of which had a horrible b.o. problem and an affinity for sauerkraut.

it was so frustrating.

and, of course, it was all your fault.

you’d been blocking her from true happiness ever since the beginning when you’d first met in middle school. it was crazy because you’d actually seemed nice; kind, understanding, and you didn’t judge her for what her father did to her mother or for how she acted out because of that.

sure, you were a little weird and sometimes you could be downright rude to other kids in your class but you cared for her in a way that no one else had before.

(un)fortunately, you didn’t come alone — you were a packaged deal. your childhood friend, daishou, came into her life right along with you. she didn’t mind at first; daishou was fun when he wanted to be but he was mostly full of snarky comments and sarcastic quips.

the three of you spent all your time with each other; from playing at the playground to helping her begin her makeup youtube channel in 8th grade.

you all got along pretty well up until you got to highschool. once there, you threw yourself into your studies, sort of retracting yourself from her and daishou.

how selfish.

she couldn’t help but feel betrayed by you—you knew how bad she was at making friends and you didn’t even care, leaving her all alone to fend for herself.

well, not all by herself.

daishou was a constant. no matter where she was, or how alone she was feeling, he was there to provide entertainment at the most, and his presence at the least.

it wasn’t always the healthiest, most functional friendship, she could admit that. there were weeks that daishou would choose to ignore her for no apparent rhyme or reason, citing his explanation as he just didn’t feel like it.

obviously it sucked but he was her only friend, ever since you so cruelly abandoned them. i mean, you still ate lunch with them every day and invited them over to study and hang out, but it was not the same.

with you so absent, she grew closer and closer to daishou to the point she was spending almost every waking moment with him. and, as the story so goes, she fell for him, head over heels.

she knew it was a bad idea, if their friendship was anything to go off of but she didn’t care. she was desperate for love and physical affection and he seemed willing to at least give her the latter.

after she decided to confess, nerves all the way in her throat and a box of chocolates behind her back, daishou took her virginity in the back of his ford fusion, hard, fast and nothing like she’d imagined.

the next day, she’d cornered you in the library (where you always seemed to be) to tell you the good news. your face was unusually blank as she detailed the best night of her life to you, your response being less than stellar when she was done. “please be careful,” you had said.

what did that even mean? you clearly wanted to keep daishou safe from her which was ridiculous because weren’t you supposed to be her friend too? she’d stormed out of the library after that, determined to demand a kiss from daishou to make her feel better.

that day was one of the last that she’d see you for a while. you got caught up with clubs and schoolwork (and apparently therapy for god knows what) while she got caught up with daishou.

things with him weren’t... great. they never really were but things were getting even worse. his random bouts of silence got longer and though it was only freshman year and they’d been dating for less than 5 months, he’d meet with her after school with a hickey plastered on his collarbone that she knew she didn’t put there (she sucked even harder over the spot to claim it as her own).

as she said, things weren’t great but they weren’t horrible either. they remained that way all the way up until sophomore year.

you and her had drifted even further, hardly speaking to one another unless it was for a project or to vaguely greet one another in the halls. it was okay though. you had all your other friends and she... well she had daishou.

speaking of, her “boyfriend” had been more distant than usual. she wasn’t an idiot and she knew he’d been seeing other girls on the side, but she believed she would be the one he’d end up with, the one he’d marry.

how foolish she had been.

it was prom night and she felt beautiful. her beauty channel had finally begun picking up traction (she’d just hit 13k subscribers the night before!!) so she filmed a prom night makeup tutorial, making sure that every square inch of her face was perfect. donning a silky blue floor length dress, she felt like a princess and she certainly looked the part.

she showed up to daishou’s house about 30 minutes before the event, ringing his doorbell with an elated grin painted all over her face. he had mentioned in passing that his parents and older sister would be out for the weekend, leaving the house for themselves. that meant sex and sex meant being wanted.

after the third ring of the bell, she started to get nervous. maybe he wasn’t ready yet? maybe he needed help with his tie? just when she was about to wring the bell again, the door swung open to reveal daishou... not in his suit.

“oh, it’s you,” he’d grumbled. “‘m not goin’ to prom.” she felt her breath catch in her throat. she’d protested and begged for an explanation but he wouldn’t give one to her. eventually, she’d followed him into his house, furious because how could he do this to her? on her night?

it didn’t take very long for him to get fed up, his snake-like eyes honing in on her, filled with venom. “‘m not goin’ because i don’t like you anymore. you still look pretty though.”

just like that, with just a few words, he’d shattered her heart. she was frozen in place, completely disconnected from daishou, her love, as he not-so-gently pushed her out the door, slamming it in her face.

she felt tears stream down her cheeks and before she knew it, her legs were carrying her to a place she hadn’t been in months.

banging frantically on the door, she cried out, begging for someone, anyone to hear her. the door opened quickly and there you stood. you’d clearly been studying but as you took in her frazzled appearance, it seemed as though your heart broke.

you ushered her inside, sat her own the couch, and began to make her a cup of tea, your parents having been out for the night as well. once the kettle went off, you quickly prepped her drink and gave it to her, the words flowing out of her like liquid once she had taken a sip.

she didn’t know why she was even there but despite the animosity between the two of you, you seemed like you truly... cared. (neither of you mentioned the tears that stained your favorite t shirt or the quiet apologies you muttered into her hair).

that night quickly went and passed and by the next day, she was feeling rejuvenated and more like herself. however, that feeling quickly dissipated when she caught you in the hallway between classes speaking with daishou behind the stairwell in hushed tones.

within the span of a few hours, her heart had been broken twice and she was sure she’d never felt such heartache before.

she turned on her heel and darted away, avoiding your every attempt to talk to her for weeks and weeks until you just... stopped trying. after you’d cut off conversation, yet again, the sadness quickly festered and morphed into anger.

that anger only grew when she watched you graduate at the top of your class in your senior year, your smile blinding as you accepted your diploma. it only grew when she saw that you had made it into the university of your choice on your instagram story, her own rejection letter torn up in the bottom of her wastebin. it only grew when she saw you’d made your own youtube channel, her own going untouched and neglected (her last video had been a half-assed “get ready with me” that had more dislikes than likes due to her horrible makeup and even worse attitude).

soon enough, the rage had intensified until it had taken over her whole being. she was just so angry at all that you’d done to her, all the ways you’d ruined her life that she couldn’t keep herself from plotting your demise.

when she got the email from the hyper house management team that invited her into the house and offered the option that she could pick someone she wanted to move in as well, her anger turned into excitement.

this was her chance. this was her moment to turn your life into a living hell, to make it at least a fraction of what she went through by your hands.

she was going to make you pay and god, was it going to feel great.

the metal of the handcuffs chafed her wrists as she adjusted herself against the cool leather of the cruiser, the discomfort removing her from her reverie.

yeah, right. it seemed as though she was the only one “paying” right about now.

she tilted her head back to stare at the ceiling, tears filling her eyes but refusing to fall.

things definitely weren’t meant to turn out like this. not at all.

℗ poker face

not like this

series masterlist

(●’◡’●)ﾉ

an - OMFG THE BACKSTORY REVEALED I AM SO OVER IT >:(( this took me forever to write and i still wasn’t able to include everything i wanted to so hop over to my asks if you need any clarification!! oh oh && just a reminder, this playlist is from meiko’s perspective so chances are, things didn’t exactly go just like this wink wonk KAJS ANYWAYS DONT FORGET TO FEED ME ILY <3333

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @katsulovee • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @jooleuuh • @loubells • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saiKishaircLip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp • @keiarma • @shrimpypenis

the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

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cjsinkythoughts · 3 years

Text

Suits, Dresses, and Heels

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 4000

Warnings: !FATWS SPOILERS!, Cursing, More Mentions of PTSD, Gun Violence, Slight Mentions of Drinking, Club Dancing (You’re all gonna hate me for that part, but I’m not sorry)

A/N: Here’s Part 4.2 - The Second Part to Episode 3 - as requested. This is a little more scene-by-scene, but there are some off-screen moments. I’ll be posting Part 4.3 (which will have the rest of the episode) later tonight.

There’s a bit more information on Reader, but not as much as the last chapter. Sharon comes in during this part, so you get to see her and Reader’s relationship.

Also, I have mixed feelings about Zemo at this point. Not in the story, the Reader’s not a fan as you learned previously, but for me personally, he’s surprised me a couple times by coming back and helping.

Anyways! Thank you so much for reading! This isn’t beta’d so excuse any mistakes! Check out my other parts before you read! Thank you again! Stay tuned, loves!

FATWS MASTERLIST

cjsinkythoughts MASTERLIST

!SPOILERS UNDER CUT!

The dress was far too tight for your liking, and showed way too much skin. Not that you didn’t like being a tease every once in a while, but for this mission, you’d rather have more cover and movement.

You had to admit though; Zemo had nice taste. The dress fit deliciously - which made you wonder how he got your size. The color and cut was devastatingly flattering. Plus, he let you do your own makeup.

Being the only female, you were in a separate area of the jet getting ready. Once you were done, you made sure to knock, even though you’d walked in on Sam changing too many times to count while on the run and had seen Bucky answer the door in nothing but a towel. It was mainly for Zemo’s sake, just a warning that you were walking in whether or not they were ready.

“Damn, girl! You clean up nice!”

You rolled your eyes at Sam, painted lips quirking up as you studied him, shooting him a wink. “You should try a mirror, Sammy.” You turned to Bucky to find him staring wide-eyed and slack-jawed at you. “What do you think, Buck?”

His mouth snapped shut and he cleared his throat, eyes exploring the dips and curves your body. “You…” He blinked once. Twice. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, his intense eyes making you heat up, before he shook his head. “You look good.” He rushed out, before spinning on his heel shoving past Sam who was snickering.

“Where’s Zemo?” You noticed he wasn’t in the main area of the plane when you walked in.

“Rearranging our ride once we get there.”

You huffed, fixing your hair. “Oh God. We’re really doing this.”

“Yup.”

“Okay.” You looked down at yourself before looking up at the boys. “Something’s gonna go wrong, isn’t it?”

“Absolutely.”

“No doubt.”

Giving a slight groan at their simultaneous answers, you nodded. “Let’s try not to screw up too badly, boys, alright? I at least want to live long enough to see Peter graduate.”

Sam rolled his eyes with a scoff. “That kid’s a punk.”

“You’re a punk.” You shot back.

Bucky raised his hand. “I second that punk thing.”

“For which one?”

“Both of them.”

You chuckled as Sam gaped at Bucky, who shrugged innocently. The former assassin tilted his head in your direction to shoot you a grin and a wink, making you laugh more. Shaking your head, you go to make a joke when Zemo walked in.

“It’s time. We’re landing now.”

And just like that, the teasing atmosphere dissipated, leaving you anxious and regretful.

*******************

You walked by Bucky, arm linked with his metal one, listening as Zemo told Sam about his “character” he was to play.

“He’s a known womanizer - always has a gorgeous lady on his arm.” Zemo gestured towards you. “It’s the only way they’d let in a woman.”

“Aren’t we going to see a woman?” You questioned, gently patting Bucky’s metallic bicep when his hold on you tightened.

“Which makes it more imperative that you don’t act threatening. Women don’t make the same mistake men do; they don’t underestimate other women.”

You nodded. He had a point there. Bucky faced you, a frown on those pretty lips. “I don’t like this.” He mumbled.

“You think I do?” You whispered back. “With you being him again? Even if it’s just pretend? And need I remind you whose idea this was?”

“I know, I know. Just…” He sighed. “Promise me you won’t get hurt on purpose.”

Your forehead creased. “Why would I-?”

“To protect people. You always do. And I get it, I do. It’s why you started this in the first place, but…save yourself first, this time, okay?”

“Buck-”

“Promise me.”

It wasn’t often you could see the fear in his eyes, hear it in his voice, but you could then. Unable to do anything else you nodded, a soft, “okay” falling from your lips. He nodded back, pressing a kiss to your head, before letting you go as a car approached.

Bucky helped you in - the heels you were wearing were no joke - before sliding in himself, Sam getting in on the other side of you. “And you two can’t be…” Zemo gestured to the two of you as the car started moving, eyeing your still connected hands. “Doing that.”

“This isn’t my first theater production.” You snapped at him. “We’ll be fine.”

He raised his hands in surrender, turning back to look out the windshield. Once you arrived, you gave Bucky’s hand one last squeeze, before accepting Sam’s hand to get out on his side, linking your arm with his like you were doing with Bucky earlier.

“I finally get to see one of your performances, baby.” Sam grinned at you.

You smirked back. “Best seats in the house, too, Smiling Tiger.” He groaned at your jest, nudging you playfully with his elbow as you giggled.

“This way.” Zemo cut in, jerking his head in the direction you’d be going. You took a breath, steeling yourself, before the three of you nodded at each other and followed his lead.

You found the fellas reactions amusing, their heads turning to study and scan everything they could see. You were more subtle in the way you analyzed your surroundings, feeling a bit more at home in this situation than, say, fighting super soldiers on top of semi trucks.

Your jaw tightened, as did your grip on Sam’s arm, when Zemo started speaking Russian, the four of you pushing through a crowded bar. Sam ran his fingers over your arms, giving your hand a little squeeze, silently reassuring you.

It was a bit obvious Sam hadn’t done much undercover work, put he stayed in character and you were impressed. Especially when the bartender started cutting up the snake, which you had to look away for because if there was one thing you couldn’t do…it was snakes. You nearly gagged when Sam reluctantly downed the drink.

Bucky eyed you, lips pursed in a way you recognized as him trying to hold in a smile. That made you feel a little better, hiding your own smile by turning into the crook of Sam’s neck. “Not. Funny.” He growled through clenched teeth, lips not moving.

“Kinda is.”

He grumbled under his breath, before the two of you tuned into the conversation between Zemo and a thug that came up, learning about the apparent power broker of Madripoor, which you a bit of from your time undercover there.

Sam held you tightly when Zemo turned to Bucky, knowing what was about to happen.

You didn’t like it. You didn’t like how easily aggressive he became. You didn’t like the little smirk Zemo gave as Bucky attacked. You didn’t like the cellphones being pointed in his direction. You didn’t like it.

“Didn’t take much for him to fall back into form.” You gave Zemo a warning glare, a shaky breath leaving you.

He’d been doing so well. At least, for someone who had been through what he had. Especially considering it’d only been a few months since he’d been pardoned - half a year since everyone came back. You knew bringing Zemo on board had been a bad idea, but-

A squeeze to your hand pulled you out of your thoughts. You let out an inaudible sigh of relief as Zemo allowed Bucky to let the man he was choking go.

“Selby will see you now.”

One step down. You hoped that would be the hardest part, but you knew it most definitely wouldn’t be.

“You good?”

Bucky sniffed, giving you two a curt nod, before following Zemo. You bit your lip. “That wasn’t really an answer, was it?”

Sam shook his head. “No. No it wasn’t.”

Selby wasn’t exactly what you were expecting, but you’d come to expect that. You stayed on Sam’s arm, giving the guards coy smiles and playing with the fake nails you had on in faux-boredom.

When she purred at the man besides you, you and Bucky glanced at each other, with you resisting the urge to scrunch up your nose. “And who is this gorgeous creature?”

Your eyes snapped back to Selby, giving her a slightly bashful smile. “Celeste Addams. Pleasure.”

“Trust me, dear. The pleasure is all mine.” Alright, you thought as she scanned you with a smirk. She was swinging for both teams. You could work with that. “What’s the offer?” She looked back to Zemo.

Zemo gave her the offer - information about the super soldier serum for the Winter Soldier and the code words to control him. Your blood boiled as Zemo touched Bucky, fingers grabbing his chin. You swore, once this whole thing was over, you would kick Zemo’s ass. You should make a list, just to keep track of all the things he’d done, and no doubt would do, to piss you off. That way he’d know why exactly you were beating his ass.

A name came up, Dr. Wilfred Nagel, along with the knowledge that the super soldier serum was, in fact, in Madripoor. You and Sam met eyes. Second step down.

But before they could get anything else, Sam’s phone buzzed. You ducked your head, closing your eyes, mumbling “fuck” when you saw it was Sarah. Sam’s responses just made you inwardly cringe even more.

“The bank, yeah. We laundered so much mo-” He chuckled nervously. “Yeah. They’ll come around.”

Is he fucking serious? For the love of God, Sammy…

And then she called him Sam. Next thing you knew, Selby was shot and you, Bucky, and Sam were taking out a guard each, you growling at the fact that you couldn’t use your legs because the dress was too damn tight.

You had no choice but to trust Zemo’s lead, but word traveled very quickly here, and less than a minute after walking outside, you were getting shot at.

“C’mon!” Bucky grabbed your arm, pulling you besides him.

“Can you not right now?!”

“I can’t run in these heels!”

You glared at Sam, the killer six inchers on your feet feeling like hell. “Hell no! You did not just say that in front of me!”

“You started it!” You scowled at him, following Bucky into an alley, only to duck as shots rang out. Chest heaving, you looked around for the source of the bullets that killed the men chasing you. Your “guardian angel” as Zemo put it.

She soon appeared in all her stunning, blonde badass glory. “Sharon?”

Sam quickly explained the situation, trying to get her not to shoot Zemo who she had a gun pointed at.

“I stole Steve’s shield, remember? I also took the wings for your ass,” she pointed the gun at Sam, then Bucky, “so that you could save his ass, from his ass.” And the gun was back on Zemo. She shot you a smile. “And your ass is looking beautiful as always.”

You grinned back. “Thanks. You’re not looking too bad yourself.”

As she spoke, your lips turned down. You had tried calling her after Germany, but it always went to voicemail. First thing you did when you got back was try to get everyone pardoned, but it was a process. And then you found out about Wanda and ever since…

Sharon was your first real friend. She was only a couple years younger than you and had been one of your first partners during your time with SHIELD. And the fact that she’d been on the run for years now, even with the Blip, her family not having seen or talked to her since…that was exactly why you couldn’t take a break. She was family and you found there was nothing more important than family. But when she needed you, you were out searching for someone who didn’t want to be found.

How were you supposed to choose between two sisters? How could you cope with the fact that you chose the wrong one?

“Sharon, we need your help.” She laughed at Bucky’s statement. “Please,”

She glanced at you and you nodded. “I’d appreciate it, Share.”

She gave a sigh before nodding. “This isn’t over. I have a place in High Town. You should be safe there for a while.”

She turned and started walking, and you were about to follow, when you remembered something.

Spinning around, your fist connected with Zemo’s cheek, Sam and Bucky shouting in surprise while the man stumbled back. “Don’t you fucking dare touch him like that ever again, or I will break every bone in your body.” You threatened, your expression twisting into a scowl as you grab his hand and bend it awkwardly. He grunted but didn’t move, knowing one wrong turn would break his wrist. “Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal.” He ground out.

You pushed a little more, making him wince, before letting go and rounding back to Sharon, who was smirking at you. “Let’s get moving.”

“Yes, ma’am.” She jerked her head back over her shoulder to where a car was waiting, leading them over.

You quickly followed after her with Bucky on your heels and Sam dragging Zemo along. Speaking of heels, as soon as you got in the car - getting shotgun for the first time ever at Sharon’s insistence - you prodded the stupid shoes off your feet.

“Nice kicks.”

“Yeah.” You scoffed. “Unless you’re trying to kick.”

“Did you rip the dress?”

“I was tempted to.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll get you in something more comfortable. And you’ll look just as good. Not that you wouldn’t look good in literally anything.”

You chuckled, giving her a look. “Let’s not test that theory.”

She smiled back, nodding. “Fine. I’ll let you pick something out.”

Sam huffed, crossing his arms best he could, being squished with the two other fully grown men in the back seat. “Women.”

The two of you exchanged looks, rolling your eyes at the three pouting guys. “Men.”

*****************

“I’m gonna go check on the boys. But I’ll be right back.”

You nodded, looking through her closet. No dresses. And absolutely no heels. Flats, if you had to, but you’d definitely prefer sneakers right now. You decided on shorts and an off-the-shoulder blouse, grateful for the looser clothing.

“They’re idiots.”

You laughed and looked over at the door as Sharon entered. “Yeah. I know.”

“Cute.” She commented on your outfit, sitting on her bed. “They explained the situation. Sam said if I help, he’d clear my name-”

“Sharon.” You sighed, biting your lip. “I tried. I really did. I-”

She shook her head, smiling at you reassuringly. “No, I know. It’s why I’m not mad at you. Sorry I didn’t call back. How’ve you been?”

You shrugged. “Fine, I guess.”

“Even with the whole ‘Cap is back’ thing.”

“Walker’s the government’s pet. He’s not Captain America. He’s not…”

“Steve?”

Looking up at her from the ground, you nodded. “Yeah.”

“Do you miss him?”

You smirked, wagging your eyebrows at her. “Do you?”

She rolled her eyes, tossing a pillow at you. “It’s kinda weird now, isn’t it?”

“Maybe a little. But I can’t blame you. Have you seen him shirtless? Good God.”

Sharon laughed, shaking her head as you joined her on the bed. “How come it’s always you getting wrapped up in these things?”

“I have no clue.” You chuckled, crossing your legs underneath you. “First I’m answering a phone call from Bucky at five in the morning and next thing I know, I’m being kicked off of semi trucks, breaking criminals out of prisons and running in six inch heels.”

“You answer Bucky’s calls at five in the morning?”

You gave her a look. “Sharon-”

“No, no. Hey. That’s cool. Some girls like bad boys, some like jocks, others like nerds. You like super soldiers from the 40’s. Everyone’s got a thing.”

A playful shove turned into a pillow fight, which turned into a sparring session, during which you pin her on her back. “You’re getting better.” You complimented, getting up.

She glared at you, taking your outstretched hand and letting you pull her up. “I guess that’s why you’re an Avenger.”

“That’s still weird to say.”

“Why? You’ve been an Avenger since, what? Ultron?”

You nodded, straightening your clothes. “Officially, anyways.”

“Right. Because you were there for the Battle of Manhattan as the secret seventh superhero.”

“Yeah…I miss it. The anonymity. I’m pretty sure I’m one half the Senators’ speed dials.”

Sharon frowned, brows pinching together. “What about the other half of the OG? Where are they?”

“Thor’s in space, Bruce is MIA - which I can’t really blame him for - and Clint’s retired with his family.”

“You think he’s gonna stay retired?”

You shrugged. “I hope he does. He’s been trying to retire for years. He deserves it. Knowing him, though…probably not.”

Sharon crossed her arms, nodding at you. “So that leaves you.”

“Yes it does.”

“Do you ever think of taking a break?”

You gave a half-sigh, half-groan, making her smirk in amusement. “It’s…come up a lot recently. I dunno. I think I’m burning out, anyways.”

“What makes you say that? I was watching you guys with Selby. You’re still one of the best I’ve ever seen.”

“I-I’ve been having…problems.”

Her eyes narrowed, her hands setting on her hips like a mother about to scold her child. “What kind of problems?”

“Just flashbacks. Of different things. It happens at random times. Certain triggers; something someone says or does, or something I smell or hear.”

“PTSD?”

“Something like that.”

“Has it affected you in the field?” Hesitating to answer was answer enough and she nodded. “Then…maybe it’s time you do start considering retiring.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “At 36? There’s no way.”

“C’mon. It’s not too late for you to settle down. Go one a few dates. Meet someone. Maybe have a couple kids-”

“Woah, woah. Slow your roll.” Your features scrunched up in incredulity. “Pump your breaks. No one said anything about marriage or kids.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m just saying…think about it. I heard even Bucky’s been on a few dates.”

It was your turn to narrow your eyes at her, hearing the suggestive tone in her voice and seeing the eyebrow raise. “Yeah. He has. A few. I told him to. Told him it might be good for him to, I dunno, get back out there.

“Or, you could just…go out there with him.”

“Not you too! Have you been talking to Sam?”

“Is it Steve? Is that what’s stopping you? Because you know he’d just want you to be hap-” She stopped as he phone vibrated, grabbing it and reading the text. “Company’s arriving.” She pointed a finger at you. “You got very very lucky. This conversation isn’t over. I’m not dropping this.”

You bit your cheek and nodded. “Alright, mom. Can we go party now?”

She breathed out a laugh and nodded. “Yeah. Let’s go party.”

**********************

“Hey, gorgeous! There you are!”

You smirked at the boys as they met you near the top of the stairs, eyeing Sam and Bucky appreciatively. Damn, could Sam pull off a turtleneck. And Bucky in black and skinny jeans? Sharon sure had good taste. “Today’s the day for attractive outfits, huh, gentlemen?”

“I’ll say.” Bucky hummed, glancing at your own outfit. “You look beautiful, doll.”

“You look very dashing yourself, Barnes.” You grin, pulling at the lapels of his black blazer and fixing the collar. You smoothed your hand down the front of his shirt, looking up at him with an eyebrow raised when he caught your wrist, keeping your palm over his heart.

He clenched his jaw, taking a breath, before letting it out, almost dejectedly, and letting your hand go. “Um,” He cleared his throat, hand falling down by his side. “Did, uh, did Sharon say anything more about these friends of hers to you?”

“Nope.” You shook your head. “Just told me to enjoy the party.”

“I guess we should go enjoy the party, then.” Sam nodded towards the stairs, where the music was floating up, her guests already pouring in.

You made your way downstairs, looking around the room. Sharon sure did know how to throw one, that’s for sure.

People were pushed together, dancing to the beat of the music, drinking, with colored lights flashing every which way. Bucky’s hand found yours almost instantly, and you smiled at him. “C’mon.”

“What?” His eyes were wide as you dragged him towards the groups of people dancing.

“Dance with me.”

He shook his head violently. “I-I can’t.”

“I thought you used to be a dancer?”

“Used to. And I was a swing-dancer. Not…” He gestured around to the people bobbing up and down, moving their bodies with each other.

You waved dismissively, pulling him closer. “All you need to do is feel the beat. I’m sure you can do that, can’t you, Mr. Tough and Scary Assassin?”

He licked his lips, looking around nervously. You brought his hands to your hips, making his eyes snap back to yours, your own arms winding around his neck. You started moving rhythmically, nodding your head to the music, smiling up at him and giggling at the adorable concentration on his face.

“You, uh, you go to parties like this a lot?”

“I specialized in undercover operations, remember? I practically lived at these places for some of them.” He licked his lips, his grasp on your hips tightening. “Loosen up a little.” You laughed, catching his jaw between your fingers and making him look at you instead of the crowd surrounding him. You scratched at the scruff, speaking softly, but loud enough for him to hear. “It’s just me.”

He nodded and, slowly, a bit hesitant, started moving his body with yours, relaxing his tense muscles the longer you two danced.

“Nice hit, by the way. With Zemo earlier.”

You shrugged, turning in his arms, biting your lip when he pulled you closer, your back to his chest. “I didn’t like the way he grabbed you. It was unnecessary. I was thinking of making a list, actually.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.” Your arms wound around his neck again, your head falling back to his shoulder. “Of things he’s done so far that warrant’s me beating his ass once this is done.”

He chuckled, warm breath tickling your cheek, thumbs tracing circles on the bare skin just above the waistline of your shorts. Your own fingers had found home in his hair holding his head where it was, his lips centimeters away from your ear. “Share it with Sam. I’m sure he has a few things to add.”

Your breath hitched as his metal fingers danced along your bare navel, arm tightening around your waist. “I’m sure he does…I thought you said you can’t dance.”

“I guess I just needed to warm up. I’m a bit rusty after eighty years.”

“Don’t seem that rusty to me.” You breathed out, turning your head to look at him. His tongue ran across his lips again, his eyes glancing to your own.

“Hey, guys!” The world and your situation came crashing down on you, the music you didn’t realize you’d been tuning out, along with the crowd’s boisterous laughter and cheers, rushed back to yours ears. The little bubble with just you and Bucky shattered. You both stepped away from each other; you cleared your throat and pushed down the heat that had nothing to do with the hundred bodies in the one room, while Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, the tips of his ears red with no help from the colored lights. Both of you were panting lightly, avoiding eye contact with the other three staring knowingly at you. Sharon nodded her head, gesturing behind her. “I found him.”

Sam nudged Bucky - who was staring at you, his jaw ticking and his throat tightening as he swallowed thickly - before jabbing his thumb in Sharon’s direction. “Here we go.”

You nodded, eyeing Bucky with a small smile. “Here we go, Buckaroo.”

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father-time-and-baby-new-year · 3 years

Text

OFF WITH YOUR HEAD

PART 2 OF HEADS WILL ROLL

SYNOPSIS: Whenever school is in session, Eren will just keep finding new places to corner you.

PAIRING: BULLY! EREN x FEM! READER

DEDICATED TO: you guys, always you guys.

WARNINGS: unedited, slight dubcon, groping, degradation, bullying,

WORD COUNT: 2.4K

Gooooood Morning Paradis Birds! Remember to give a big round of applause to the football team for clutching the victory against reigning champion Marley High! We stay undefeated thanks to our excellent and hardworking team. Special shoutout to Captain Eren Yeager for guiding the team to another flawless victory-

You're half-heartedly paying attention to class, sleepily listening to the school announcements over the speaker until the mention of his name douses you like a shock of ice-cold water.

You can't catch the rest of the announcement because your class erupts into cheer, enthusiastically clapping their hands for the boy of the hour.

The only one not joining is you.

Eren's smile is brighter than 100 kilowatts. In the back of your mind, you wonder where he learned to smile like that. When his emotions became so practiced.

Mr.Berner tries to calm the kids down, especially Sasha who bangs on her desks and howls, creating even more hype and ruckus. The class, now in a chattier mode, excitedly breaks into little conversations.

"Man, thank god. That school is so pretentious, I'm glad we finally have something over them."

"Jeez, I know our team was good, but it's this good-?"

"-Bro, year of XXXX is stacked as fuck. It's literally never been this stacked before. We have a whole team of prodigies, it's insane-especially Eren. "

"Yepp. My dad went to Paradis too and he said shit like this never happened during his time. The academic comps were one thing, but these footballs wins? We're being put on the fucking map."

The announcements are still going on, but it's hard to hear over the noise. You're only able to catch the tail end, a useless tidbit about the word of the day.

pre·mo·ni·tion a strong feeling that something is about to happen, especially something unpleasant. Here is an example: "She had a premonition of imminent disaster" Have a good day folks, hope it's free of any premonitions!

Overhearing the unceasing praise of the boy who pinched your thighs until they bruise blue and purple was a little painful-but you were used to it. After all, he's putting Paradis on the map. Whatever the fuck that means.

While you didn't love sharing this class with him, he was seated far across the room and surrounded by a gaggle of friends. You might as well have been invisible, the way he did not acknowledge you. Maybe you should treat it as a small mercy.

Unwittingly, your eyelids grow heavy. You're sitting in the back of the class, no one would notice if you took a little nap right? Assured by the fact no one will notice, you lower your head into your folded arms and let your thoughts float.

You dream of vaguely nothing but shadows of smiles, tufts of dark hair, and the smell of the wind at sea until a noise confined to the shape of your name breaks the harmony.

"[y/n?]"

You startle awake with pairs of eyes piercing their gazes at you. Swallowing thickly, you apologize to Mr.Berner who looks worried. He's a good teacher, and one of your favorites.

"I'm sorry Mr.Berner. I had a migraine so I laid my head down." You lie smoothly, with more grace than you knew you were capable of. Course, you could have just said you were taking an unprompted nap, but that would disappoint your lovely teacher.

He sighs, "Guess that can't be helped then. Go to the nurse ok?"

Bingo. The nurse was an understanding lady, she'd let you sleep the rest of the period off. You nod, and start to gather your materials, relieved the class' attention on you was beginning to dwindle.

"Wait, Mr.Berner, let me take her. What if she gets disoriented and falls in the hall?"

Fuuuuck. You should have known. You should have expected this because attached to the request dripping with faux concern was none other than the precious jewel of the kingdom. Eren's intrusion makes your peers perk up again at the scene unfolding in front of them.

You smile, lips tightly pressed, "I'll be fine. I don't want to distract anyone from the lesson and it's a short walk-

"It's still potentially dangerous.", Your teacher interrupts, pinching the bridge of the nose, "And while I'm completely surprised by Eren's sudden streak of altruism, he's right. Something could happen. He'll take you there safely."

A very convenient streak of altruism, all right. You think it over in your head, yeah the nurses' office is right down the hall, and once you're there, he'll leave. Sure, he'll taunt you but you can handle a few minutes worth of cruelty.

It's awkward getting up, and walking in front of the class while Eren props the door open like a gentleman. You know what a sharp contrast it must look like, you and him, you cowering into yourself, not meeting any eyes while he stands tall and confident.

"Do you have everything?" His tone is one of reassurance, and for the barest of the moments, feels too familiar. You know he's not being genuine right now, and for the first time, you question if he was genuine back then.

"You can hold onto my arm if you're too dizzy to walk." He says as you guys slip out of the classroom, purposefully a little too loudly. You hear coos from girls and a stray "She's so lucky!"

He must have heard it too, because he lowers his head to whisper into your ear, "Yeah, very lucky, aren't you?" Wisps of dark hair tickle your cheeks. You see the glint of tiny silver hoops and wonder when he had gotten his ears pierced. The illusion breaks and the performative charming prince's reassuring smile is replaced by a sneer.

"Didn't know you could lie like that, by the way. Some good girl you are if you're trying to ditch class like this." Fingers dig deep into your waist as he drags you along the empty hallway that seems to stretch on for miles.

Your breath gets stuck in your throat, "How did you know I was lying?"

Viridian eyes narrow, "I've seen you get migraines before." There's a knock on your heart. As if realizing he was talking about something far away ago, a vindictive edge laces into words pouring out of his mouth, "I bet you wanted this to happen, didn't you? Wanted to get us all alone."

He's trying to get a rise out of you, that much is obvious. So you ignore him to the best of your ability.

...which quickly proved to be futile, as you suddenly find your arm pinned to your back, and your front facing the nearest walls.

"I asked you a fucking question bitch." He's practically growling, "Fucking answer me."

If there was a world record for the shortest temper, best believe Eren Yeager will have collected that accolade too. He's getting too worked up, and you could definitely feel his harness poking the back on your ass, as he grinds into you.

You manage to crane your neck, wanting to have your face shoved into the wall, and then venomously spit out, "You're not looking for answers. You just want me to repeat whatever you think is true."

This position brings back flashbacks to the library when he caged you in against the bookshelves, and like then, he spins you around to face him quite abruptly.

His smile is full of sharp teeth, "No. I know I'm right."

You don't respond. He moves in closer, his breath fanning on your earlobes. Your body can't help but let an involuntary shudder, and you close your eyes, not wanting to see his pleased grin or the way the fluorescent light makes his hoops gleam like silver bullets.

One calloused finger flicks your nipple, "Do you want to know why I'm right?"

At your lack of response, the dark-haired boy rolls your nipple in between his fingers before pinching it painfully, eliciting a small whimper out of your fuckable lips. "N-no", you answer finally. You're wearing your thinnest bra because of the seasonal heat, and you can't help but regret that decision right now. The fact he's only paying attention to one of your nipples is driving you insane. Not that you want it, but you're so fucking sensitive right now. You struggle in his hold, causing him to hold you tighter, and by now his nails were probably embedded into your skin.

He chuckles at your honesty, rewarding you with a thick stripe of his tongue over the collared shirt of your uniform making you gasp. Did he just-, over your shirt too-, you look down and see a very visible wet spot.

Taking advantage of your distracted state, a eager hand snakes under your skirt until it settles in the middle of your panties. He licks your earlobe before speaking, his voice like ice under your heels.

"You were so fucking wet that day in the library while saying you hated me the entire time," he pauses as his fingers scissor you through your panties, as if to drive the message home, "About as wet as you are right now."

There's a wet spot there too, also caused by him. You crush your eyes shut, "Eren...please just take me to the nurse." You're not even struggling anymore, holding onto him out of your own accord, worried that if you don't hold onto anything-you'd fall on your knees.

The very headache you lied about having seemed not so non-existent after all.

Eren hooks his arms under the plush of your thighs, "Yeah. Of course, that's what I came to do, right?"

You had hoped you'd be granted a reprieve in the nurses' office but you'd forgotten that luck was never really in your favor. Because while you guys had entered the squeaky-clean office, the nurse was nowhere in sight.

Instead, a note sat on her desk in unassuming frilly cursive that Eren read with glee.

Sorry students! Minor emergency to take care of, and I'll be back by the middle of the next period. If you're badly hurt, see Mr.Ackerman in room 203. If not, just sit tight! Feel free to take up the beds.

Thank you,

Ms.Ral

Eren had turned to you with shining green eyes, "Since no one's here, I guess I'll have to keep you company. Don't want you to hurt yourself."

There was something claustrophobic about how Eren stood in front of the door as if to signify to get out of here, you had to get through him.

"Maybe I can get Mr.Ackerman..."

Eren's sudden bout of laughter makes you wince and retreat inside of yourself, "For what? A fake headache? You really wanna inconvenience him like that? Mr.Ackerman?"

You take slow steps backward until the back of your knees hit the school bed, making you stumble as you clumsily take a seat. Eren's been marching forward with every retreating step you took, and it's no surprise when he pushes you down the bed, strong hands on the side of your head, while his muscular legs force your thighs apart so he can settle himself in between.

"We have some time to kill, you know." Strands of dark hair fall into his eyes, and without thinking, you reach upwards to brush them aside.

He grips your wrist before you make it that far, nearly gritting out a "What are you doing?"

You just stare, not really knowing why that was your impulse either. Finally, you mouth out, "I want you to leave Eren."

The grip on your wrist is tighter than ever, and you very well know that you're going to have new finger-shaped bruises before the old ones even finish healing.

"And I want to stay." He punctuates each word slowly, and all you can think is how being pinned to a bed is much less painful than having the hard surface of wood digging onto your back.

You're fully aware of the heat in your core, and having Eren on top of you doesn't make this it any easier because fuck, he is attractive. Maddeningly so. And maybe you want him to go away so bad because you're afraid that if his fingers are caught inside of you, you'll thank him for it.

As if reading your mind, he lets go of your wrist (making a mental note of your sluggish movements and slipping resistance) and massages your warm hole from your panties.

"Eren please" You grit out. He merely chuckles, "What are you asking for, whore?"

You could feel tears threatening to fall. This was so embarrassing. Did you want this? Yes, yes. yes, yes. You were so wet right now and had enough of the teasing.

He alternated his kneading from slow and soft to fast and rough, and you couldn't help but let out the prettiest little moans Eren's ever heard. Since you lose all pretenses of resistance, his other hand roughly brushes against your hardened nipples, straining against the fabric of your shirt.

Okay, he decided. He's going to make you beg.

"Beg." It's announced like a command, and while you hear it, you don't really register it because your hips are busy chasing the heat, and it's all too much of an utter disappointment when his long thin fingers leave.

"I said beg slut."

"Eren, please, please. I need you so bad." You're blubbering and you don't care. You just want his pretty fingers to shove aside your panties and rub against your folds. You think back to the library, how wet you were, how the stupid fucking phone call from his coach interrupted him pumping his fingers inside of you. And you didn't know if you were happy or mad he left. But now, all you crave is the blissful wave of pleasure- the very pleasure he's been denying you.

Eren looks down at you, green eyes scrutinizing. After a long while of what it seems to be him just staring, he wipes his fingers on your skirt, brushes back his hair with a wayward hand.

"Looks like I should head back to class. See you later."

Too numb to say anything, you watch him leave with a smirk on his face. When you're sure he's walked away, you curl into yourself and cry.

#attack on titan fanfiction #eren x y/n #tw dubcon #bully eren yeager #bullying #toxic eren #yandere eren x reader #eren x reader

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insomniac-dot-ink · 3 years

Text

Headlights Girl

Genre: Urban fantasy + wlw romance

Words: approx. 8k

Summary: The story of a girl with headlamps for eyes and the moth-girl she meets along the way.

My book 🌸 Ko-fi 🌸 Patreon

--------------------

Most humans carry the night with them. Even during daylight hours, they can shut out the sun, turn off the light, recede into themselves and into that soft secret place behind their eyes.

Did you know certain animals don’t have eyelids? Gecko’s have nothing between them and the violent sun which wishes to cook the colors of their world. They have to use their tongue. Dust and sand and rain, can you imagine? I was obsessed with lizards as a kid.

I stacked up books on snakes and lizards and skinks. I traced the way that sand snakes crested across the dunes, sideways and wrong. I put glue on the pads of my hand and tried to climb the walls of my room— I didn’t even get one handhold up. I went to the zoo and peered into their cages, up on my tiptoes, trying not to smudge the glass or breath too hard. I tried make out their triangle heads and slow tongue-flicks, but they each shrank away deep into nooks and crannies of their cages. Most things do when I look at them.

Most humans carry the night with them, right there behind their eyelids is an entire world of darkness. I have something else inside me, not quite, not soft, not secret. They called me “headlights girl” in the newspapers.

There were even stranger kids born in the Age of Spirits. I checked. Every morning of fifth grade, I scanned the papers for mentions of “oddities” growing into anomalies.

A boy who could breath fire. A girl with leaves sprouting from her head. A kid with antennae that could taste the wind. There are stranger things than me in the age of beasts and magic. My father called it the “Epoch of Bastards,” sons and daughters of flickering fire elementals and wind ghosts who seduced half-asleep ladies from their beds.

He didn’t look at me much growing up. And I knew what he meant. I knew what he was getting at by calling it the Epoch of Bastards. Growing up, I played in my little puddle of carpet on the floor as he blustered in and out of rooms like gale force winds. He’d be looking for his keys or a left shoe or wallet since he was going out, out, out. I think I missed him at first, in the way you miss strangers you’ve never met.

Later, still on my puddle of carpet, still on my island, I would glare at him with that sour, acid taste in the back of my throat. Acrid, smoky, I would barely blink as he passed; he’d jump when he turned too quickly and accidentally fell into my path. Later still, I would begin to wish they were both like that—blustery and calling people names, gone more often than not.

It sometimes felt better than hearing my mom weep to herself on the couch. I wish she’d do it in her room or outside or anywhere else than that theatrical sobbing in the middle of the house, a naked heartbeat to the place. She spoke to her friends on the phone in that same watery voice, handkerchief in hand and sniffling, she spoke to them more than me.

What else am I supposed to do? This isn’t how it was supposed to be. She’d wail, just a bit, and then find a new thing to wail over. They could barely afford to send me to That School. They could barely afford the special doctor’s appointments for my eyes. They barely knew what to do with me.

Sometimes, I wanted to shout right back: It’s not like I didn’t want to be here either!

But she wasn’t talking to me.

School wasn’t much better. We weren’t the same, not really. None of us were the same age or had the same affliction. Plus, most everyone else stayed in dorms where they bonded with secrets and whispers and hiding from matrons. It wasn’t the same.

They called me The Lighthouse and Car Face and Nightlight. Sometimes they’d give me a few bucks to close my eyes so they could see my face. I did it. They’d laugh and reassure me I was as ugly as you’d think. Or beautiful. Or perfectly average-looking or I had a pig-nose or unibrow. I’d never seen anything but the blinding light of my own eyes in the mirror so I could never contradict them.

A boy with antlers handed me a twenty for a kiss in the 6th grade. I closed my eyes for that too. It was chapped and dry and he ran away with a screaming laugh afterward. There are stranger kids than me, I reminded myself. So why do I feel so much stranger than the rest of them?

I was 16 when I heel-toed my way down the stairs toward the front door. A duffel bag slung over my shoulder stuffed with loose clothes, change, a bath towel, three books with broken spines, all the tampons in the house, and a Swiss-army knife.

I hoped to stuff as many cheddar-cheese sandwiches in my sack as possible before the midnight bus came, but he was at the kitchen table. I don’t think either of us expected it, like running into your teacher at the mart and you’re both buying the same brand of toilet cleaner. There was a beer in front of his idle hands and he still wore his rumpled work shirt. He glanced at the bag on my shoulder for a long minute.

Finally, he sighed like I cut him off in traffic.

“Gimme a moment.”

My father leafed through a wad of cash he kept in a safe. He handed me almost three hundred bucks and we nodded at each other. At the time, I thought there was a kind of satisfaction to that nod, an endnote.

I was out the door before the midnight bus arrived.

Only three people were at the terminal. None of them looked at me with my pack and my knife stuffed in one hand and my eyes glowing. They did look at the glow, but not for long.

Remote and empty like maybe the world had ended and the last bits of if were nothing but strangers not making eye contact.

Finally, I watched the headlights of the midnight bus approach through dense summer night. I was struck by the thought that it was like looking at like, the glow of my eyes against its eyes. Can a bus be your father? Can your father be a man after all this time? Will your mother come looking for you?

I got on the bus and kicked my feet up against the seat in front of me. Scrunched into a ball, crossed my arms over my chest, and watched the trees turn into flickering bodies of shadow with each passing mile. ------------- My feet moved like tides. They tossed me against nameless city streets and toward empty forested slices of land. I stumbled into the painted deserts toward the west. I dipped my toes into the neon districts of the east with lights brighter than my own. I slept on benches and in kid’s treehouses and hunched my shoulders against brick walls of back alleys.

No one touched me. Maybe they’d approach now and then, but I’d open my eyes and they’d see nothing but heaven or devils or an absent lightning-God father that would smite them. I was the daughter of spirits after all.

I found my way to the ocean; beaches where other stragglers gathered and it was easy to stretch out on empty pieces of warm sand. I didn’t talk much by then, I didn’t like to; people stared whether I was speaking or screaming and clamping down on my jaw so hard it ached. Sometimes I get yelled at: Turn that off! No phone lights in here. You’re blinding me, bitch!

I’d never seen a movie in any theatres, but I could imagine what it’s like.

It was crowded, but I liked that ocean city, despite myself. It had pale buildings built into cliffs, narrow winding sidewalks where cars couldn’t fit, reckless bikers, and crushed seashell parking lots. I liked the tang of salt in the air and the way my hair crinkled from the ocean water as it sun-dried. I camp out on beaches and bummed cigarettes and hotdogs off strangers. I was good at taking care of myself once I got into a rhythm.

I had a tent by then and even an enormous sun umbrella to keep any prying eyes away. I still liked to sleep under the stars most nights though.

I often dreamed of sinking to the bottom of the ocean. I dreamed of descending on pointed ballerina-feet to the silted black bottom. I’d be weighted down through the cold and the silence to where no human being had ever been. I’d open my eyes there, open them all the way, lightning-bright, and unflinching. In my dreams, the salt didn’t even sting. I lit up the world, the whole untouched world of whales and fish and terror and maybe I’d do something good then. Maybe I’d do something good and bring the sun to places that had forgotten it.

I hated those dreams.

I met Mags on the beach after one of those dreams. Mags had one eye and twelve teeth and carried around nothing but string and scissors everywhere. She smelled like seawater and burning kelp, dank and crusted over. Her clothes were neat despite her leather-cracked skin and arms and neck covered in tattoos of shipwrecks. We ran into each other at some bum gathering and she cackled and pulled me aside.

“What’s your name?” Her voice was old creaking wood. I didn’t answer. “I could give you one.” She offered with a grin that was more empty space than anything.

“Nana.” I gritted out. “You want something?”

“Not sure. What do you want, kid?”

I glared openly, my beam of light slanting. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Come here.”

I didn’t know why I was chosen.

Mags liked me more than I deserved. I pocketed her last pair of socks when she wasn’t looking. She never mentioned it and dragged me down to the community showers to get clean with soap and shampoo. She took me to the soup and salad restaurant for something that wasn’t burnt or freeze-dried or from a convenience store. She cackled, she spat when she talked, people shot her looks as well.

I thought she was normal, not touched by the spirits, but she liked me more than most people and I didn’t know why.

“You like art, kid?”

I snorted. “No.”

“Why not? You broken?” Yeah. Probably.

“How am I supposed to know?” I snapped back.

“Lippy squirt. Come on, I’ll show you something worth your forked tongue.”

She heated the needle before she used it, red hot and untouchable. She dipped it into deep black inks, only black and sometimes red, she called them the only colors that matter. She shows me how to prick the skin and clean it. She showed me how to slowly, painstakingly etch images. I wasn’t sure I liked it, there was something so permanent and intentional about the act.

I watched her lessons though: stick and poke to her right foot, all over those fine little bones that must hurt, in and out, a little bloody.

It took her six hours to make a tiny shipwreck right above her big toe. It was a narrow schooner going under and I was the only witness. She made the waves come to life and crash against its sides and sometimes I forgot to blink. She didn’t seem to mind.

She washed another needle. She heated it red-hot. She dipped it in ink and handed it to me.

I still wasn’t sure I liked the permanence of it, but I told myself I was bored and it was something to do. I decided quickly I did like the bite of it, I liked the focus it took, and the ability to pull something from nothing.

I practiced all over my thighs first, there was enough meat there and it was easy enough to reach: a lizard design that looked like nothing but squiggles, a TV set playing static, a tiny smudged skink with its tongue out. I practiced designs in the sand and then on paper when Mags splurged on pen and paper.

Mags took me to the museum on Sundays. They were always free on Sundays.

Something stirred in my chest, even as the guards yelled at us about how flash photography wasn’t allowed in the museum. Even as I was shooed out of exhibits for ruining the paint. Still, an ache so old it rotted roared to life in my chest.

I stabbed in and out, gentle, a collection of stars right above my right knee. A winding sand snake on my wrist, and then finally, something good, something that gave people pause and reason to stare. I made it in the mirror: a ghost on my collarbone. Shadowed and intricate and yet simple, I put a ghost right above my collarbone and it bleeds more than any of the others.

That was a good year or so; one of the best I could remember.

I didn’t want to leave the ocean city though and Mags said she had to keep moving. She had places to be. She gave me a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

“You're a gem, kid. You’ll knock ‘em all to the pavement.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “You’ll be back?”

She cackled. “Wouldn’t miss it. You know me.” She winked as she turns to the bus, my second father. “You think I’ll miss your great becoming, kid? I’ll be back.”

I wanted to make her pinky-promise like I was a kid again begging one of the others to tell me if I’m beautiful when I close my eyes. I couldn’t do that; I waved as she tottered up the steps of the bus and was taken away with the tides of her own feet.

A had a moment of thinking it was the end then; I was ready to get back to my real normal. I was ready to disappear again. But even shipwrecks with no witnesses leave things left to be found.

------------ I got an apprenticeship. Technically, Mags talked them into it and I just followed up when I had nothing better to do.

I didn’t think I’d like it much, but couch surfing and camping out was the pastime of the especially young. And I’d lost my giant umbrella.

It was a small shop that smelled like bleach and dried flowers. A tattoo parlor in one of the steep arts districts neighbored by food trucks and beaded necklace shops.

Penguin Davies and Bitch-Annie ran it together. Davies walked like he’d never encountered land before, and Bitch-Annie had a throw-pillow embroidered with “If you don’t have anything nice to say then come sit next to me.”

Davies was covered in nothing but birds and dizzying M. C. Escher house-designs up and down his chest and arms. Bitch-Annie had topless mermaids and pinup girls across her shoulders and legs. She’d been asked to leave a number of stores before the children started staring or thinking thoughts.

Neither of them had ever met someone like me. It was not that type of town. I rankled at most their questions, a cat meeting a steel brush. Where are you from? What’s your family name? What kind of school did you go to? Is your sight better than other people you think?

I brushed off anything more personal than my favorite type of soda. Bitch-Annie called me “Shadow” probably as a joke, probably. Davies said I must be possessed by the ghost of some dead star: a blackhole that takes everything in and lets nothing out.

Neither of them let me touch a needle in those first six months. They had me practice on pig skin and trace designs and stand by their shoulders as they worked. I felt like a dental assistant except I was the hanging light shining into open mouths instead of anything with a pulse. I stood at their shoulder as they drew thick lines and thin dots and made hearts and wolves and names of dead lovers come to life.

They asked me to stand still and stop wiggling the light. I almost walked out several to find a new cliff to crash against, almost.

No one had ever expected anything of me before. They never expected me to show up somewhere or do something well. No one really cared if I went to school or if I did my homework, if I dressed well or went to bed on time. And no one kept any tabs on me at all after I took that first bus. That’s how I liked it.

I should’ve left, tattooing didn’t mean anything to me, not really. But Bitch-Annie stomped up to my attic-apartment one morning and threw pants at me.

“Get up, Shadow,” she barked. She was sterner than Mags, no hint of humor in her eyes. “I told you 9am so I expect 9am.”

“The fuck!?” I was eloquent in the mornings.

“Pants, shirt, shoes, and bra if you don’t want that desk idiot staring at something other than your eyes all day.”

“Are you serious?”

“Serious as a root canal. Mags swore up and down about what you. Let’s see some of that, up, up!”

I grumbled. I put on everything but the bra. No one ever expected me to be anywhere before and 9am shouldn’t have even been a concept much less a real thing. I told myself I hated it. I’d leave the next week. Or maybe the week after that or in just one more month. I kept a bus ticket under my pillow but every time the date arrived I shrugged and made myself busy.

There’d be no harm in having a savings too and seeing what all the fuss was about with having a dishwasher and a kitchen.

I wasn’t an artist of course. I didn’t understand what everyone else was seeing when they looked at the “old masters” paintings of water or war or lovers pulled apart. I didn’t feel anything in front of stain-glass windows in churches or mosaics on walls. Maybe there really was something wrong with me, my eyes. I didn’t let up though. I put on pants for it after all.

Penguin Davies hovered by my shoulder when I made my first real design.

“Mm.” He rumbled deep in his chest. He’d gone grey at an early age, had tired eyes and quick hands. The desk kid said he’d been in medical school once, a surgeon. It was hard to tell. Davies muttered a lot, stared off into space too much, and laughed like it was always a painful surprise

“Perfectionist,” he muttered at me as I start over on a crappy unicorn design. “That line was barely off. You’re being a perfectionist, Nana.”

I scowled over my shoulder and let the full weight of my light hit him across the face. “Got a problem with it?” I challenged. He chuckled darkly. His grin was crooked like a broken door handle. I tried to hide my work from him with my shoulder. “It’s not done yet.”

“It’s late.” The rest of the street was dark. I knew that.

“I said I’m not done yet! You can go home.”

“Hmm.” He scratched his grey beard.

“What?”

“Look at you. You know who makes the best artists, Nana?” He was always a bit of a philosopher. Maybe he used to study that before medicine.

“Yeah, yeah, shut up. I’m working on it.”

He gave my shoulder a light push. “The ones that don’t quit.”

They let me touch a needle gun after that. I told myself I’d only sign my new apartment lease as an experiment. I didn’t have to actually stay. I’d just run from the ink on paper and hope no one chased after girls with eyes that glow.

I didn’t break my lease. I drew suns and moons, trees and fireflies, hunks in speedos on tipsy college girls who swore they were sober and erotic vampires on the chests of men getting their first divorce. I had to give two refunds for a duck that turned out lopsided and a tattoo of someone’s dog which I swore really was that ugly to begin with.

There was one at the end of that next year though, another college girl with perfectly white piano-key teeth. She asked for a stick and poke, that was what I was best at anyway, she asked for a butterfly. Butterflies were easy, I could do the little ones in my sleep. She wanted one all across her back, she said I could make it look however I wanted. So I did. Wings like fringed shawls and straight heavy lines combined with wispy swirling ones. It was dark, black ink with red highlights and gray shadows under each wing to give it movement and flight.

I hid my smile when I finished and showed her the results in the mirror. She went to my bosses and jumped up and down. She pointed and babbled, ohmyspirits, the best thing I’ve ever seen! Fuck. I should pay you double! Where did you get this girl?

I held myself perfectly still and studied the ceiling until my eyes dried out.

I took the long way home that night. I stopped once, at the corner where the midnight bus arrived, and watched the the passengers trudge off. I didn’t expect to see Mags again so soon, not really, but sometimes I wanted to show her: Hey, maybe your work wasn’t all wasted. Maybe I did start to become.

---------------- “I’m getting you chocolate.” Annie spat, her thick arms flexing as she cleaned off the spotless counter. “I’m getting you fucking chocolate, Shadow, ‘less you tell me what flavor you actually like.”

I hung at the back of the shop next to the narrow window that faced the road. I let the sun warm my face in thick strips and watched the bicycles pass. “It’s not my birthday.”

“Tell us what your actual birthday is then, you sugar-toasted tart.”

I shrugged. “Not today.”

“Well happy fucking birthday. You’re turning two. You came to work for us two years ago today, washed up from the beach like a deranged feral cat, so this is your birthday now.”

I rolled my eyes which served to look like a flashlight given a shake. Annie spent another minute splashing disinfectant on anything that might have had even a passing conversation with a germ.

“You talk to Birdie?” She asked, but mischievously this time. I responded by setting my mouth in a hard line. “You’re turning twenty-something and you’re not even talking to Birdie, are ya?”

“I’m not telling you what I’m turning. It’s still not my birthday.” I dodged inelegantly.

“Birdie will give you a proper go-around. Even shadows like you must need a little rub now and then.”

“Go dunk your head, Annie.” I huffed.

“Afraid you’ll blind her in bed?”

I turned with a snarl. “I’ll start with you.”

“I’ve seen you flipping through those poetry books, every word about hands or mouths or rosebuds.” She gave me flat a once-over. “You’ve got a sweet tooth in you.”

I dragged myself over to the desk to snarl at her some more, but Annie was already putting her hand up and going toward the backroom.

“I’m getting you a chocolate cake either way.”

There must have been a proper way to get her to never look at my little leather poetry books again, the ones with watermarked pages, the spines broken-in, and words that oozed. No one had to know that I could read, much less that I read that.

The door dinged instead.

“Excuse me.” She walked in. Her. “Is someone, um, named Nana here?” I turned before I could stop myself. That was still my name. And it was still my work.

Twenty-something, curtains of straight black hair falling in her face, pinched nose, thin energetic lips, shorts that gave way to milk-dipped legs that never seemed to end. A slight girl in a university t-shirt. College kids came in often during their breaks, but this one was a bit different. My eyes dragged up and fish-hooked there.

Feathered tendrils sprouted from her head and reached toward the ceiling. Long and searching, a pearly green color that reminded you of leaves or plumage.

I knew within a moment where I’d heard of this: Antennae Girl. The newspapers ran our stories close together along with the boy that breathed fire and the girl with roots growing from her head. We were all born in the same year during the epoch of monsters and bastards.

I think she recognized me too.

We stopped like heartbeats seizing up before the ambulance could make it. A confused, unnatural silence. I glanced at the door and considered making a run for it.

She cleared her throat first.

“Someone said that Misty’s butterfly tattoo came from here?” She blinked once and I noticed how her feathered antennae seemed to twitch. I averted my eyes so I wouldn’t blind her. She took a step forward. “So are you . . . Nana?”

The door was right there.

“What do you want?” I had been spending too much time with Bitch-Annie.

“A tattoo?”

“What kind?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“Then why are you here?” I grunted. Footsteps came in from the back room. I was examining the smudged off-white tiles of the floor one by one.

“I wanted to . . . hey, you can look up if you want.” She said, curiously, softly. I didn’t look up. “I’m still figuring out the design.” She trudged on ahead.

“Fine.” I pivoted away. “But we’re busy. Come back later.”

A hand slapped across my shoulder. “This is Nana.” Annie stopped me from leaving. “Don’t let her eyes fool ya, it’s her personality that’s actually the problem. You saw her butterfly you said?”

“Yes!” She gushed. “It was gorgeous.”

“It was fine,” I corrected.

“It’s her birthday today.” Annie shared because she could and because she was a failed evil villain still trying to get her kicks in.

“Oh cool, happy Birthday.” A deep pause followed that could fill oceans. “You can look up. I don’t mind.” She repeated.

I opened my eyes wide and lifted my chin in one jerky motion. A beam of fluorescent headlights hit her across the face. “Is this what you want?” Venom dripped from my lips. This was why I tried not to talk too much.

The young woman squinted for a moment before covering her eyes and nodding. “I read about you,” she stated as if it was nothing. “I’m turning twenty-two this year . . . so I guess, you are too?”

“What?!” Delight filled Annie’s entire expression. “Hot damn! Twenty-two?” I groaned deeply. “Hey, you, girlie,” she addressed antennae-girl, “you want to come out for drinks tonight?”

I tried to protest as quickly as possible, but somehow didn’t summon the words quickly enough.

“Sure.” She agreed. ----------------------

The night was humid and clung to us like a second skin. I wandered through the hilly streets with Penguin Davies wobbling beside me. The desk kid—Daft Jeff, said Davies had some inner-ear problem that made it hard for him to keep his balance. Annie said he just didn’t belong on land— he couldn’t walk straight unless something was tilting and rolling under his feet.

Davies made his way up the hill, faltering and missing the musical beats of it. He refused to let me steady him and I refused to have him sing to me. It was apparently my birthday.

“Someone saw your design.” He noted on the downhill.

“Yeah. Some college girl.” I grumbled.

“What’d you think?” He asked in his usual mysterious way.

“She just wants a good look.” I returned in a neutral tone. “She read about me in the paper. All she wants to do is look.”

“She saw your design.” He paused. “And Jeff said she was like you.”

I blinked hard so the path ahead was eaten by shadow and Davies stumbled. “Not all of us have to be friends . . .” I said sourly and didn’t fill in the rest. “I’ve met kids with antlers and frog-hands before. I doesn’t mean anything.”

“Any of them come visit?”

“They’re smart enough not to.” I snark. “But the ones who manage to be pretty don’t have the brains to stay away.”

“Mm.” He made a soft sound. “What kind of tattoo do you think she’ll get?”

“How should I know? A heart or anchor or something dumb like that.” I walked on ahead. “Maybe I’ll give her a quote from some dead poet.”

“You like poetry.”

I huff dramatically, “Not what I mean. Girls like her don’t like my type of poetry, you know I’m saying.”

“What kind of girls?” Davies was patient. I hated that about him.

I stopped at the corner to let him catch up. “Don’t play dumb. Hot ones, college ones, getting a degree in money or music. They don’t watch over their shoulders enough or know when to stay away.” I scuffed my shoe on the ground. “Whatever.”

Davies was still thinking. I considered pushing him over. He finally spoke up again as we approach the bar, “That sea witch ever show up again?”

“Mags?” I snorted. “No. Why?”

“Cause I’m sure she’d like to see this.”

I didn’t say anything else as we reached the doorway. -------------------- The bar was loud. More people than I liked came to my “party.” I should have seen it coming. If the cliff city liked one thing it was an excuse to drink.

I crammed myself up against the bar and ordered a gin and tonic before the rest of the night crowd could arrive. Birdy was holding court at a corner table and waving at me. “There she is! Someone put a blanket over Nana, lights out, party up!”

Her puns usually left something to be desired. She sang “Blinded by the Light” every time she saw me for half a year.

I drank half my gin and tonic in the first gulp as a new stream of townies burst in. They arrived to buy me birthday beers and shout their opinions on the shitty new chain restaurant on 3rd street. I was almost tasting the bottom of my second glass when someone tapped on my shoulder.

I barely looked over.

The girl with sheets of black hair and a practiced-appearance stood before me—like she was at dress rehearsal and expected everyone else to know the lines as well. She carried a baby-blue bike helmet in one hand, and I noted there were two hand-drilled holes in the top.

“You.” I was tempted to shake her hand like I might make this a transactional hello and goodbye in short order.

“Hey.” She smiled, hesitant, like maybe the food on the fork might be too hot. “Nana, right?”

“Yep.” I sighed the word real long and heavy. “Listen, I really can’t give you a tattoo if you don’t know what you want.”

“No, no, I get it. But I want you to know . . . I didn’t know it was you.”

“Uh, okay. Though I’m pretty hard to miss over here.” I was looking at the dirty wine bottles stacked near the ceiling. Her antennae hang over both of us like fern fronds.

“No. I mean, when I saw the butterfly. That’s when I wanted to come here. Not after.”

“After what?” I was gonna make her say it.

“After I found that it was, well, you know, Headlights Girl.”

“Mm.” I was spending too much time with Davies. “You want something to drink?”

She sighed as well, real long and heavy. “Sure.” She took the seat next to me. “I’m Park by the way.”

“Park.” I rolled the name around in my mouth. “And you already know me.”

“I don’t think I do.” She laughed, sharp and bristly like something you can get cut on. “And I’ll have a beer. . . but only once you look up. Come on, I’m not like that.” I looked up. Her face was bright, round like the moon, her grin was sneaky and unearned. “There we go.”

She waved over the bartender Kipp and ordered her dark beer.

“It’s not really my birthday.” I informed her, dumbly. Every word felt dumb and clumsy all at once.

“Why not?” She was teasing. I knew that.

“That’s not how birthdays work.” I informed and wished I could backtrack into hostility again.

“Oh darn,” she winked. “And here I was about to make it my birthday too.”

“Uh, well,” I really should have left when I had the chance. “It’s not too late?”

“That’s the spirit!” She laughed, fuller this time and rounded. I looked her straight in the face and then quickly looked away again. Her grin was aimed at me, somehow, and seemed to reach high cupboards inside me you usually needed a stool for.

“Park,” I repeated the name and shifted in place. “So did you go to Haveryards or Simmons?” There were only two schools in the country for spirit bastards like us. Haveryards was close enough for me to get bussed to—an hour one way and then an hour home.

“Neither. I went to public and then Bakerville Uni.” She rapped on the counter. “Hey, you want another gin and tonic? Or I’ll mix you up something.” Her eyes flickered over everything. “I bartended my way through college so I can make a mean margarita.”

“Oh, Bakerville U., yeah. That ones close.” I stuttered a bit. She was leaning across the counter and trying to get Kipp’s attention a second time. My words were feeling dumber and dumber by the moment, perhaps losing all shape and meaning altogether. “That’s where you went?”

“How’d you guess?” She said playfully and pointed to her t-shirt. She finally got the bartender over. “Right, you want something hard? Vodka maybe? A mule?”

I scratched my chin. “ . . . I don’t care. I’m easy.”

She rolled her eyes and I knew she must feel me staring. “I can’t imagine shopping for you for today then.” She snickered and climbed over the counter. “Happy birthday, how about one chocolate mule for a free tattoo?”

“You wish.” I made a face. “You don’t even know what you want.”

“And you do?” She was still grinning, somehow. “I’ve decided I’m making you the equivalent of all the soda flavors mixed together at once. Close your eyes.”

I closed my eyes and I tried to turn off my thoughts. It was bright as knives inside my skull; I carry the daytime with me. Panic threatened to rise up (for no reason of course), but a soft hand brushed against mine, soft like sheets in fancy hotels and flower petals. I peaked and Park slid a full murky glass toward me.

“Drink up.”

It was sweet. It wasn’t even my birthday. I didn’t care. She called it a chocolate-mule-Park Special and maybe chocolate really was my favorite flavor. -------------- Park started coming around. She rode a sky-blue bike with a white basket and rusting hinges. I couldn’t imagine doing all the hills in the city without any gears, but she managed. She said she was figuring things out after graduating. She said she liked it here.

I grumbled when she came by. I complained like Annie when Wicker the cat visited: Get that thing away from me. I hate that. Smells awful. I’ve got allergies. Put that away, it’ll kill me.

I never said anything when Annie left fish heads out and bowls of milk of course.

Park smelled like sunscreen and breath mints. She had strong opinions on everything from street paving techniques to which sun hats went with which dresses. She invited me on walks. She invited me to help her change a flat tire. She invited me to the corner shop to help her pick out bottle can openers.

I said no. Sometimes I said no. I started to say yes.

“Look at this,” she liked to show me things. She liked to show me pictures of squirrels on her phone and weird pieces of glass she found. She liked to point out new restaurants (that I’d already been to) and play videos of funny traffic jams.

This time she held up a seashell. It was rounded and flat with a swirl in the center.

“I’m looking.” I said carefully.

“Watch how it catches light.” I shun my eyes on it and she moved it back and forth. There were bits of silver veins caught in the cracks of it.

“There’s tons of those.” At this point, I had valiantly refused to be impressed by even her cutest squirrel pictures.

“Ugh.” She pouted. “Are you kidding? I spent all morning looking for this.”

“They're right by the surf. I could find you five bigger ones than this before sunset.”

“Alright, hot-shot.” She jut her chin out and jabbed my shoulder. “Prove it.”

I said yes to that one. I left right after my shift ended with the sun setting in the waters like a stabbed orange bleeding out. I met Park by the parking lot with drooping palms trees lining the sides and lost flipflops everywhere.

“This is where you went wrong.” I announced. I couldn’t help it. “This is the tourist beach. You have to go somewhere real.”

“Alright, alright. You’ve already established you’re the hot-shot here. Lead the way.”

She followed me. I ignored how she lingered by my side. I ignored how her hand wrapped around my arm as she stopped us to look at a tiny horseshoe crab. Her hand was soft, like velvet, soft enough to smother something in my chest.

I found two seashells with streaks of silver and rainbow through them, both bigger than my palm. The sun was a flat line on the horizon before I could find a third and Park hooted.

“You said before sunset! It’s sunset, baby, pay up.” She called. “And you were so sure you were a better seashell hunter than me.” She tsked.

I scanned the ground more quickly. “It’s barely nighttime.” I pointed to the sky. “And I can keep looking. I have the built-in equipment for it.”

“Oh I know.” She planted herself on the soggy crusted sand and sat down in a heap. “But can you find why kids love the taste of not doing that? Take it easy. Take a seat.”

“So pushy.”

“You know me.” It was fond. It had only been a few months, but there was something fond there.

I ran a hand through my short choppy curls. “Fine.” I sat next to her, not too close. “It’s your loss.” We both looked out at the gently lapping waves, foaming and anemic. She let a long breath of air and for a moment I considered brushing her hair back. It was always in her face.

It was a quiet moment, bottled, and pitching toward something. Like the the moment where you miss a step on the stairs and the certainty of the fall was right there.

I was the one that scooted a little closer.

“I’m considering getting a storm cloud,” she commented off-handedly. “Can you do storm clouds?”

I made a sound of consideration. “Sure.” I glanced toward the opposite corner of the night sky. “I think I’ve seen one of those before. Big puffy wet things?”

“Kinda fluffy? You’re getting there.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” I’m smiling, which is alright since there’s no way she could see it. She’s silent for another moment longer.

“Or would you make fun of me if I got something like a butterfly? Like your other one.”

“A storm cloud butterfly?”

“No. The cloud would it’s own thing.” She chewed on her bottom lip, ragged and chapped. “I mean, I’ve been doodling some ideas. And tattoos should be personal, right? So I thought a storm cloud might be fitting. Kids used to pay me a couple dollars to predict the weather. It could be a memorial to childhood entrepreneurial spirit.”

I watched her speak and something beat inside my chest like a second animal. I wanted to be closer. I wanted to feel velvet again.

“Why?” I rasped after a moment.

“Uh, why did they pay me? It’s just something I can do. Whenever it's going to rain or storm or be sunny out. I dunno, I don’t know why the rest of you can’t sense it.”

“And you didn’t become a meteorologist?” I smiled a bit bitterly.

She made an indignant noise. “And you didn’t become a professional lighthouse?”

I choked on a laugh. “Not yet.” A quiet consumed us from both sides, I made sure my light didn’t crash into her. I made sure to look at anything but her. She’d have to squint if I did and cover her eyes and I’d be there, ready to run her over.

“Kids in my class paid me too.” I barely realized I started speaking. “They slipped me a couple bucks to close my eyes so they could see my face.”

“You got money for that?”

“There wasn’t always much to do. Teachers were quitting all the time and sometimes it was just the TV. I dunno, they paid me. Then they’d giggle and run away afterward.” My voice sounded automated like the announcer at an airport, informing travelers their flight was canceled. “They always said I had a pig nose or a unibrow or looked like the lead singer of that Minx girl band-- super hot, but you know, it didn’t matter.” The laugh that escaped was high, girlish in a grotesque way. “Since, you know, no one would ever see it.”

“Kids are fucked up.” Park contributed simply.

“Adults are too.” I sniffed. “Everyone wants a light show.”

“Oh.” She said slowly. “Is it . . . is it bad I wanted to meet you then? I mean, I wanted to see the art first, but I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t a factor.”

“No.” I said quickly. I lit up my own lap and empty hands. “Does it matter?”

“I never went to those schools,” she said hesitantly. “My parents fought them, said the schools were unfit. They shouldn’t be able to force us there. And that I wasn’t even dangerous since,” she gestured helplessly upward, “I just have these. So then, well, I never really met anyone else like me.”

“I mean, everyone’s different. It’s not . . . a big deal.”

“You’d think so,” she commented sardonically.

I folded up into myself like a complex origami piece. “Yeah, well, sometimes I wish I was dangerous. Actually dangerous.”

She giggled. “Didn’t you just say everyone’s different? I’d say everyone’s dangerous too. Just gotta find the niche.”

“Oh yeah,” I dared to turn toward her. “What’s yours then?”

“My danger niche? Hmm.” She was leaning now, pitching forward like a wave come to drown me. “I do have a few tricks up my sleeve I’ll admit.”

“You have a pair of wings hidden away?” I stopped breathing as her hand lifted up, strange and all at once. I wasn’t ready.

“Here.” Her skin was against mine. She cupped my cheek with one velvet-hand. It was heated cashmere, tiny feather-light hairs on her palm. “Feelers.” She whispered with a hesitancy there.

“Ah,” I was indulgent. I closed my eyes. I leaned in. “And you want to put a needle over these?” I put my hand over hers, loosely, so she could pull away if she wanted to. Tiny hairs pulsed there with some kind of life all their own.

“I wanted . . .” She paused and I peaked open my eyes. I could see every detail of her face, illuminated. “I dunno.” She finished. “I guess I just wanted whatever I saw there, before.”

“In the butterfly?”

“In the butterfly.” I turned toward the ocean, but my hand remained over hers. “I’m not sure how good it will be a second time. It’s not like I’m really an artist. . .”

“What did you want to be?” Soft.

“Who knows. I mean, I’m glad my parents didn’t try to fight the schools. Being there during the day was better than being home, listening to my mom crying all the time and my father exploding . . . They wouldn’t have wanted me home.”

Before the sunset, when I was walking over, I thought maybe we’d kiss that night. I thought I’d feel that first electric pulse and maybe we’d climb into the ocean and swim in circles, laugh until the moon rose. I thought maybe I’d get something out of my system and there wouldn’t be anything left to say or do.

I’d kiss Park, once, and she’d be satisfied. She’d understand. She’d go on her college path and I’d go on on mine.

But the words spilled out, unbidden. Park stayed in place, steady and unflinching. That made it worse, so much worse.

“My parents weren’t like yours.” There was an accusatory edge to it. Don’t you know? I wanted to shout. Don’t you know? Even without the eyes or the school bills or the bus.

“Hey,” she cradled my cheeks with both hands now and smeared the tears away from one eye. “Hey, listen, I know. Alright? I know.”

I scowled back at her feathered little feelers.

“It’s not about the damn antenna or head beams or anything else.” I tried to pull away. “Even the kid with the antler’s kissed me and I didn’t stop him. I ran away from home and my mom never came looking. It didn’t matter. It doesn’t matter! You wouldn’t even get it. You wouldn’t get it!” I squeeze my eyes closed. “You were wanted.”

Slowly, like an awkward animal burrowing into soft earth, she pressed her forehead to the crook of my neck. I could feel us both breathing in, strong and steady. She was lean and silky, and I swore I can feel her heartbeat hammering through my throat.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered. I inhaled her sunscreen scent. “I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t know. But I could.”

“Why are you here?” It was miserable and wet, I hated that my eyes were so different and yet still the same. Could still spill over like theirs. She took a long breath but didn’t move away.

“My last girlfriend broke up with me for being . . . sensitive and I thought maybe if I got a tattoo, I’d stop feeling so much. I’d prove something. I’d feel everything less, you know? It would hurt and then it wouldn’t.”

I took that in a parsec at time. “Are you,” I sniffed. “Are you alright?” Her legs and arms were plastered over mine. “You’re so soft, but, but I don’t want to,” I wipe at my face like it didn’t matter. “Hurt you.”

“I know.” Her face was still pressed to my neck and her lips fluttered across the hallow of my skin. “I didn’t want to hurt you either.”

A stillness settled into my bones. I glanced toward the moon, and it was like looking at like, a terrible moon to another moon. I gathered myself. I took a deep breath. I flattened.

“I shouldn’t have said all that.” My voice had dried up. “We led different lives.” It wasn’t her fault if she was wanted.

“No.”

“I wasn’t thinking . . .”

Her hand wrapped around my wrist. “I talk to Annie sometimes when you aren’t there.”

“Okay?”

“And Davies. And that front desk guy.”

“Daft Jeff. Yes.”

“They all say the same thing . . .” I blinked a couple times. “That I really should wait for you to give me the tattoo. You have a steady hand and an eye for detail.”

“Alright . . .”

“That someone taught you tattooing the right way. They wanted to show you the right way to do it.”

I snorted despite myself. “It’s not that hard. Mags was batty. Who knows why she showed me how to pick up a needle.”

“Don’t you see? They say they wouldn’t know what to do without you.” She was still there. She wasn’t moving, almost in my lap now. “You were wanted.”

“Park?” My voice cracked like a question.

“And you come with me to restaurants and help me buy bottle openers. You find shells for me and help me fix tires.” Her breath was hot and dragged across my cheek. “You are wanted.”

I blocked out her face, her voice, I turned on the sharp white sun inside and for a moment I imagine never opening my eyes back up again. Maybe I could make it night forever inside myself as well. Wouldn’t you rather have something quiet inside?

She wrapped herself around me, fully, one long arm at a time until it was cocoon. Soft. “Listen, sometimes the first people aren’t the right people. Sometimes your first relationship isn’t the right relationship. Sometimes you’re sure the world is one way, and like, always one way . . . and then it rains and the whole world is different again. You know? People pass.”

“My parents aren’t the weather.”

“But they’ll pass.” I should have pushed her off. But even against that, even those words— I liked being held, indulgent as chocolate and twice as guilty. “People sometimes feel forever, especially those kinds of people.” I was off again. “But it rains. And hey, I always know when it’s going to rain.”

I hiccupped; a smile found its way uninvited onto my face, unsure and just wobbly on its feet as Davies. I glanced down after a deep breath. Park grinned back at me and it reached the highest shelves of me all over again.

“So what happens when it rains again? Do you people like you pass?”

“Nah, not me. I don’t know how.” She winked. I didn’t notice that we’re lying flat now, stars and carpet of black above. “You can’t get rid of me. You haven’t given me that tattoo yet.”

The sound of shushing waves filled the midnight air and the moon looked down like that very first bus arriving to get me all those years ago. I wrapped my arms right back around her. She didn’t seem to mind that I was sticky or strange or sometimes kept tearing up all over again even after we’d stop saying anything worth tearing up over. ------------------

It happened. I felt like I should have been more prepared, brought flowers or poetry or earned it through honored warfare. But it happened. I was wearing ripped jeans, a spotty t-shirt and my breath smelled like coffee. We were looking for Park’s lost earring along an overgrown hill she usually biked along.

I found it, one shiny red dewdrop in all that green. Park pointed at some clouds that looked like my last “abstract” tattoo. We lay back in the grass and let the sky pass overhead. She giggled and touched my wrist, side by side. I let her.

“Summer’s almost over.” I mumbled it first.

“Yeah?”

“You find your next step then, college girl?” I tried to keep my tone light. She turned to be on her side.

“Maybe.”

“What do you want to do?”

“Oh, you know. This and that.”

“That does not sound like a college-girl plan.”

“Maybe I’ve got other plans. Maybe I’ve got other priorities, huh?”

“Ridiculous.” A playfully push her shoulder. “A lousy seaside town really isn’t priority material. There’s only one bookshop you know.”

“Two thank you very much. And that’s not my priority either.” Her voice wavered.

“Are you going to share with the class?”

“Is the class ready?” She whispered and I turned toward her as well now, taking in her perfect round face and question-mark mouth.

“I have been.” I matched her whisper. I tremor from my center outward and hopes she can’t tell.

“Do you know what they say about moths?”

“What?” I gave a breathy laugh. It wasn’t what I was expecting. “I’ve heard of them.”

“They tell your fortune.” She was grinning in that way that put out a stool and reached up. “I used to cry a lot growing up, because some kids said that moths are just evil butterflies. I was sensitive and ran all the way home. I threw myself at my mom��s feet and threw a fit about how moths were just evil butterflies. They were just ugly, wicked versions of a good thing.”

“Evil? Well, I suppose you are rather sinister when you haven’t eaten.”

“Shut up. I’m telling you something.” She put a hand on my shoulder. I inhaled deeply and turned over in place to face her. Only the shallow breeze kept us apart.

“I’m all ears . . . though maybe not as many as you.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“What can I say? The sun is adorable. I take after him.”

A finger ghosted over my cheek, tracing the arc of my cheekbone. “Well, you’re not so bad behind those headlights too. Some of us have good day vision you know. And good taste.”

I wished those words didn’t make my chest do funny things. “Thanks.”

“Do you want to hear what my mom said or not?”

“That you shouldn’t worry about evil butterflies?” I wiggled closer. “Because you’ll be really hot and funny and smart one day. So who cares if you’re evil?”

“Yeah, those were her exact words.”

“So?”

“So,” a firm hand took my chin. “Look at me.” I looked at her. I was glad she couldn’t see the flush in my cheeks in any way. “Moths show good fortunes she said.”

“Right. Lots and lots of good fortune.” I breathed, dumbly, of course. She was close and sweet and there was hair in her face. The fronds of her antennae tickle right past my ear.

“They can help you find good fortune. They’re good omens. You know why?” Park’s lips were barely moving as she spoke, hypnotic and unhurried.

“Why?”

“Because they follow the light.”

It happened all at once. Like every cheesy love poem or bad lyrics I wrote in my journals at night. It was every cracked-spine of a book using words like “rosebud lips” and every overdone song about people who find their way to each other.

I kissed her, leaning in with no life vest on or readied crash-landing position. She kissed me and my chest filled with her, breathless, drowning, soft as dreams and stranger than hope. I cradled her and she dragged me closer and closer until it was nothing but floods and brimming.

I’d been nothing before I think, I’d been an island that waits, a bus that leaves, a shadow that hides. And then I had been hers. ----------------- I was strolling home from work along the main road. The thin strip of sidewalk was streaked with bleached sunlight and the salt air was thick enough to burn throats. It was the long way home, but I was in the habit of going back to this corner.

The bus pulled up with little ceremony. It was an interstate one that crisscrossed over empty bellies of land. I stopped in place to watch, just in case, as I had many times before.

A silver head bobbed down the steps and planted herself on the concrete, unbelieving. She took an enormous noisy sniff of the air. “Not so bad!” She bellowed.

“Are you?” That wasn’t meant to be my first word. She was more stooped now and wearing shiny things on her wrist that clanked. She’d lost another tooth. “Mags.”

“Eh!” She yelled and waved frantically as if I hadn’t shot up another inch since I last saw her and started wearing clothes without holes in them. Her eyes sparkled as she tottered over. “So how’d you do, kid?”

“See for yourself.” I smiled. It was nice when the tides came back in. Mags gave me a thorough appraising. “Like this I guess.” I held up my hand. I wiggled my ring finger at her, heavy with a silver band and glittering opal.

“That’s my girl! Always knew you’d find your feet.” She cackled. “Am I too late to give you away, kid?”

I shook my head. She waddled over to me so I could take her hand. I took her home to show her my art and new tattoos, I showed her our terrible one-eyed kitten, Basket (Wicker’s son), and the little house we styled ourselves. I showed her our shoe closet and our queen bed, our messy kitchen and busted screen door. I showed her the moth tattoo over my heart, and Park showed her the matching lighthouse one over hers.

I tried to thank her, of course, I tried to say I owed her more than she knew for picking up an angry, dirty kid and seeing something in her. I owed her everything. But she just patted my hand and said that it’s not about our debts in life, kid. It’s about the becoming.

-----------

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taestefully-in-luv · 3 years

Text

Always You | JJK (Drabble#1)

Summary: Jungkook gets jealous when he sees your nobody ex trying to dance with you and you are as oblivious as ever.

Pairing: Always You!Jungkook x female reader

Genre: smut

Word count: 4k (sorry)

Warnings: jealous jk, light choking, spanking, orgasm denial, fingering, oral (female receiving), unprotected sex, blindfolds, restraints, oc says sir like once lol

Notes: lol I miss them. Anyway enjoy guys! lets chat if ya want:)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jungkook is new to this whole relationship thing, like for real for real. He constantly wants everything to be perfect and to go smoothly but what happens when your ex makes an appearance at the bar you’re all at? And you haven’t mentioned that Jungkook is your boyfriend now not just your best friend.

Jungkook needs you to say something before he does and if he is the one who has to do it he’s going to somehow feel like a dick. You’ve drank just enough to become that right amount of tipsy, right amount meaning you find everything funny. Your ex isn’t even that funny? Your ex also bellows over every now and then when you talk and Jungkook thinks damn are you even that funny? Like, why is he laughing so much? Jungkook looks over at the two of you and awkwardly smiles. He reaches his hand out and squeezes your thigh but you barely react! You continue talking to what’s his face and what’s his face completely ignores Jungkook’s obvious territorial hand.

“And you live there now? That’s amazing!” You yell out over the music, “Jungkook and I live—”

“Wow, you two still live together?” What’s his face asks and Jungkook is nodding his head, not amused with the conversation.

“Oh, we recently just started living together again.” You mention shyly.

“Oh? You two always have been really close.”

“Oh, actually we are—”

“y/n!!” Jimin runs up to you three at the bar, he breathes out heavily from all the dancing he’s done tonight.

“Hi.” You slightly slur towards your friend.

“Come and dance with me and Tae!” He gives what’s his face a quick nod. “You too, Jungkook.” He says now facing Jungkook and his face immediately falls when he notices Jungkook’s tense state. But then he’s smirking.

“Want to come dance with us too?” Jimin asks what’s his face and Jungkook groans out loud, literally out loud.

Jungkook is trying to behave. Being a boyfriend is new to him and his relationship with you is still fresh. But when is he allowed to show the world you’re his. He wants to show this entire bar of people that you belong to him. Oh god, is that possessive? Jungkook groans into his hands, sighing out in frustration. He doesn’t want to come across as possessive…is that annoying? Or maybe you find it sexy? He doesn’t fucking know!

But what he does know is he’s starting to get real pissed off at the way your ex leans into your space every time you two giggle. Jungkook scoots his bar stool closer to you and his arm pulls you into his side. You turn your head to face him and you smile. Jungkook melts right then and there as soon as he sees your lips curve into some dopey ass grin and he tightens his grip around your waist.

“What’s up baby?” you chirp happily.

“Come sit in my lap.” Jungkook softly commands, he’s already dragging you over to him and you barely protest.

“Why? So we can watch you two make out?” You hear Jimin whine from behind you three. “Again.”

Your ex watches you two with careful eyes and nods towards all of you,

“I’ll see you guys on the dance floor.”

Did Jungkook not make his point? Was this not super obvious? Should he have kissed you in front of him? Fuck you on this bar top to make a point?

You know that phrase when you’re angry… “All I see is red”? Well, Jungkook never understood that. He would think “How the fuck do you see red?” but now, he’s sort of starting to understand.

Because he sees nothing but cloudy red waves in his vision or at least a really bold orange color. He wouldn’t call this anger…no, more like pure fucking annoyance and irritation. And you? You have no idea…

“y/n” Jimin calls for you, “Let’s go dance!”

“Yeah, let’s dance!!” Taehyung claps his hands excitedly as he makes his way you to guys.

Jungkook tongues the inside of his cheek as he looks between all of you. He just got you in his lap, surely you won’t say yes.

“Yes!” you yell out over the music. “You coming babe?” You look at Jungkook who just shakes his head slowly.

“You sure?” you ask, “I can stay if you want..”

“No, it’s okay baby. Go, have fun. I’m just going to drink.” He squeezes your thigh and you smile, leaning down to kiss him.

You stand from his lap, and you, Jimin and Taehyung make your way to the dance floor. You guys find a spot in the center, many bodies covering Jungkook’s view of you and it’s admittedly driving him nuts. He wants to at least to be able to see you. But alas, he has no view.

Maybe 30 minutes and 4 whiskeys later Jungkook has decided he has had enough, he’s going to just go to the dance floor and have a good time. He slowly approaches you three when he sees there’s a fourth person. Your fucking ex. And he’s trying his hardest to dance with you and you are barely fucking noticing. This guy has the audacity to snake a hand around your waist to steady you, but his hand lingers—And Jungkook now, finally really does see red.

Because what the fuck?

“y/n!” He calls out for you but you don’t hear him, you’re too lost in the music. You sway your hips from side to side, your hands in your hair and this dude goes behind you and tries dancing with you some more.

“y/n!” he finally gets to you and you open your eyes and give him a smile.

“Hi.” You slur out. Just slightly.

“Come here.” He reaches for your wrist when the dude stops Jungkook with the booming of his loud voice.

“Can’t you see we’re dancing?”

Red. Fiery red.

“Mine.” He growls. He tightens his grip on your wrist and you finally register something is wrong.

“What’s going on?” your innocent voice doesn’t do much to help Jungkook’s anger, just fuels it.

“We’re going home.” He says lowly, giving both Jimin and Taehyung a curt nod and turning around to face you. “Now.”

“But I don’t want to go home.” You whine, basically stomping your feet. “I want to dance with my friends, and you.”

“No.” he groans, his voice deeper than usual. “We’re going home and we’re having a talk.”

“Can’t we just talk here?” you fold your arms over your chest, “I don’t want to go home.”

“y/n.” Jungkook warns. “Don’t choose now to be a brat.”

“So what if I’m bratty?” you pout, “What are you going to do?” you can’t help but challenge him. Jungkook quirks a brow at you and frowns.

“You want to be this way? Fine.” Jungkook turns towards the other side of the bar, dragging you along with him. He’s walking like he’s on a god damn mission and you’re struggling to follow behind him thanks to your heels.

“You’re sure about this?” Jungkook snaps his head to speak to you.

“Sure about what?” you feel intimidated by his dark gaze, he looks at you with narrowed eyes and you shudder.

“You sure you won’t just listen to me?”

“Nope, don’t wanna.”

“Didn’t think so.” And with that Jungkook pulls you into the hall where the bathrooms are and knocks on one of the doors. When there’s no answer he swings open the door and lightly shoves you inside.

“Still gonna be a brat? Still won’t listen?”

“So what if I am?” you answer his first question, “What are you going to—” Jungkook cuts you with his lips on yours. He adds a lot of pressure into the kiss like he’s mad and desperate. His fingers drag up the front of your body until they’re crawling up your throat and wrapping around it. You gasp when he lightly squeezes. His other hand makes it way to your ass, he grabs onto it and pushes you into his crotch.

“Jungkook—”

“No.” Jungkook breaths out heavily, “I’m going to show you what happens when you don’t listen.”

Jungkook goes back to kissing you, his tongue expertly exploring your mouth. You moan into his mouth and he pulls back from you.

“Bend over.” His deep voice commands. He looks at you with a serious and dark expression.

“W-What?”

“I said, bend over.”

You stare at Jungkook with disbelief filling your eyes. Surely he isn’t going to…no, there’s no way. These walls are paper thin and—

“Bend over baby.” He says a little more softly. “I’m going to spank you because you aren’t being a good girl.” He explains. “Only bad girls get spanked.”

“And I’m…bad?” you stutter out.

“Very.” Jungkook’s eyes grow even darker as he stares down at you, he licks his lips as he watches you shake your head.

“Jungkook, people will hear—”

“Who’s fault is that?”

“My…fault?”

“That’s right baby, you are mine. And I want you to be reminded of that.”

“I know I’m yours though…”

Jungkook chuckles bitterly, his hands going to his pants pockets.

“You need to let others know that too.” He nods his head in the direction of the bar, “People can get the wrong idea if you aren’t clear.”

“Babe…” you begin to blush, the idea of Jungkook spanking you in a bar bathroom gets you feeling really fucking hot.

“Now, be a good girl and bend over.” His sly smile grows on his face as he watches you bend over for him.

“L-Like this?” you ask, your hands on your knees as you shove your ass in the air. You whimper when you feel his hand go to grab a handful of your ass.

“Just like that baby.” He smiles, “Now lift your skirt for me and take off your panties.”

Your eyes go wide, he’s going to spank you bare?

“Now.”

There’s something about Jungkook that you listen…his voice, his gaze…god, you want him to fuck you.

You slip off your panties and lift your skirt over your hips, your ass proudly displayed.

“Give me your panties.” Jungkook commands, and you do. You hand him the piece of thin fabric and he stuffs them in his front pocket.

“Good girl.” He smirks, “I’m going to spank you 5 times okay?”

Before you can answer you feel his hand come down on your ass hard.

“This is all mine, right?”

Spank.

“No one else is allowed to even touch you, got it?”

Spank.

“Any other guys allowed to touch you?”

You release a high pitched moan as a response and Jungkook chuckles darkly, he shakes his head in disapproval.

“Words baby. I’ll ask you again…Any other guys allowed to touch you?”

Spank.

“N-No!” You whimper out, your legs are shaking. You feel the ache between your legs with each slap he offers your ass. Jungkook massages your cheeks, his fingers sliding down until he’s playing at your pussy.

“My girl getting wet from this?” He whispers to himself, his fingers gathering your juices and he plays at your clit causing you to moan loudly. Your whines bouncing off the bathroom walls.

“One more spank baby.”

His fingers leave your pussy, he brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks them clean. Then he’s rubbing your cheeks again.

“P-Please Jungkook…” You practically beg for him to spank you and he laughs at how desperate you are for his touch.

“You’re all mine. Say it.”

“All you—”

And his hand is coming down on your ass for the last time, the sound echoes in the bathroom and you’re crying out in pleasure.

“Good girl.” Jungkook rubs your ass lovingly, “Should I fuck you now? Will you be so loud that this whole bar knows who you belong to?” He continues to massage where he hit.

“P-Please.” You beg, “Fuck me, Jungkook.”

“No.” he answers quickly. “ Your punishment is just beginning. You have to wait til we get home.”

“Jungkook…” You drag out his name between your teeth, you wiggle your ass in attempt to lure him into fucking you but it doesn’t work. He just laughs and spanks you lightly.

“Put your skirt back down and lets go.”

“I need to clean up…” You admit. Jungkook’s eyes travels to the your inner thighs where your slick has dripped.

“No.” Jungkook says softly, his eyes boring into your pussy. “I will do it.”

Jungkook goes behind you and squats to his knees, his face has that perfect view of your pussy. He holds on to your hips as he leans in, his tongue darting out to lick you clean. Your whole body goes tense at the contact, you want to be quiet. You need to be quiet. But god, his tongue feels so fucking good.

“Don’t stop!” you scream out, the pleasure taking its toll on your weak body, “Please!”

And Jungkook doesn’t stop, he continues licking at you, swirling his tongue over your clit, licking it, sucking it, and making it ache. The buildup happens so fucking fast, you don’t know if it’s because you two haven’t had sex since two days ago, or because you know people can hear you or because he’s just that fucking good.

“God, Jungkook…yes…yes…” You cry out, “So good baby.” You praise him and he groans into your pussy.

“I’m all yours!”

You can feel you orgasm quickly announcing its arrival, it has your toes curling and your legs shaking but right before you can fucking taste it…Jungkook detaches his mouth from you making everything just stop. It dies down so fast that you are left so dissatisfied.

“What the fuck?!” you yell, “I was just about to come!”

“I know.” He says with a smirk. “Only good girls get to come.”

“Jungkook, you asshole!” you say out of breath, you feel so incomplete. “I’ll be a good girl, I promise. I promise.” You repeat over and over, “Please let me come.”

“Maybe later tonight. Now let’s go.”

~~~~~~~

“Whatcha got there?” you ask Jungkook, he stands in front of you with something behind his back.

“3 questions for you baby…how do you feel about blindfolds?” he shows you the silky material in his hand and you feel your pussy ache.

“How do you feel about being tied up?” he shows you more silky material and then he winks at you. “And what’s your safe word?”

“I look forward to both,” you release a long breath “And Jupiter.”

He moves behind you, pulling your hair to the side and pressing soft kisses on the side of your neck. You moan at the feeling of his lips caressing your exposed skin. He then slowly drags his tongue on the delicate expanse of your throat and sucks bruises.

With his lips brushing against your ears, he whispers “I need you to trust me, okay bad girl?”

“I do trust you.”

Jungkook holds out the silky material out in front of your face and you shiver in anticipation, your pussy clenching at the sight. He carefully pulls it over your eyes and ties a knot behind your head, leaving you completely sightless. You see absolutely nothing.

“From now on when we meet people you introduce me, okay?” he says softly.

“Yes sir,” you whisper out and he groans, loving the name.

He presses himself up against your ass and you can feel how hard he is, god it’s driving you insane.

Jungkook leaves your body, making you feel lost without his touch…a few moments pass and you start to become antsy until you feels your arms being pulled back behind you and the feeling of silk wrap around your wrists.

“You’re all mine, right?”

“All yours…”

You stand at the foot of your shared bed in nothing but your lacey bra and panties, while being restrained in silk. He had you dress up for him. Jungkook stands by the wall, leaning against it as he admires you. You look so beautiful, so lost, so needy.

“Jungkook?” you call out, wondering where he has gone. His footsteps are light so you don’t feel him walk towards you but your body goes absolutely tense when you feel his finger tip drag extremely slowly across your bare stomach. You shudder at the contact that you were not expecting. You breathe in and out trying to calm yourself, anticipating his next move.

“Jungkook…” you whimper and he darkly chuckles. He presses himself against you and leans in to whisper in your ear.

“What do you want?”

“Your cock.” You admit through harsh breaths. “Want you to fuck me.”

“You really think you deserve my cock yet? I want to play with you first.”

Then he’s stepping away, all his heat gone with him. You’re left cold and lonely and trying to steady your breaths…you didn’t realize how intense this was going to be.

“Jungkook.” You whine, “I need you.”

But you don’t sense him near you at all, you begin to become antsy again. That is until you feel his feather like touch grazing across your stomach again and a long moan drags out between your lips. You feel him get closer to you, his fingers traveling to your breasts. He feels your hardening buds through the thin material of your bra and he grunts in approval. His hand travels south until his fingers are sliding down your stomach. He grips your hips tightly causing you to groan.

“Want to get touched baby girl?” He whispers over your lips and you cry out.

His fingers drag down to your covered pussy, touching your dampening folds.

“My god, you are soaked.” He comments. “You love when I touch you, don’t you?”

You only nod your head frantically but Jungkook grabs a hold of your jaw and says, “Not uh uh. Words, baby.”

“Loved being touched by you.” You whine.

“Let’s lie you down.”

He takes you by the shoulder and leads you down to lay in the middle of the bed, treating you so fucking delicately.

Jungkook steps away to remove all his clothing, leaving him in nothing but the skin he wears. He crawls onto the bed, momentarily hovering over you and leaning down until he’s kissing your throat again and sucking bruises into your neck.

“Have to mark you so others know you are taken.”

The sensation of his wet tongue leaves a chill behind in its tracks, giving you goosebumps all across your body. You release a few shaky breaths at the feeling.

“You’re my pretty girl.” Jungkook slides down the bed until he’s hovering over your hips, his hot breath fans over your desperate, needy cunt and you can’t help but cry out how badly you need him.

“Going to be a good girl for me?” He questions and you scream yes over and over.

Jungkook spreads your legs wide apart and lays down with his face just inches away from where you fucking need him. He lets the anticipation build for a moment as he fans his hot breath over your pussy, before he playfully moves the lace material to the side and licks a long strip between your folds. You can’t help the moan you let out at the contact of his warm tongue finally on your aching clit.

“Only I get you this wet?”

“Only you.” You pant out.

“That’s right baby.” He connects his lips to your clit and wraps them around it and sucks lightly. Being blindfolded has your senses going into overdrive, the sensations too fucking powerful. He licks, and sucks on your clit, each lap of his tongue sending you over the edge. Getting you closer and closer and ah, fuck. You can come, you want to come, you’re so fucking close…but then he pulls away again leaving you fucking frustrated.

“Jungkook!” You cry out, your body betraying you.

He’s silent, its making you feel even more on edge.

“Please baby, I’m so close.” You beg him, you feel overly sensitive.

Suddenly, you feel his fingers being shoved deliciously into your wet pussy, you cry out in surprise and pleasure as he curls his fingers into you. You’re moaning incoherently by now, not able to get out any real words as he finger fucks you.

“That’s it baby.” He praises, not slowing down. “Want my cock now?”

“Yes, fucking please, yes!” You beg. “Need you to fuck me, please fuck me. God, please fuck me.” Your words spill out of your mouth and Jungkook chuckles.

“Only because you’ve been so good.”

He lifts your legs and wraps them around his waist, you anticipate the feel of cock but Jungkook takes his sweet time.

He takes his throbbing cock in his hand and lines it up to your entrance, you moan at the feeling of him touching you but it’s not enough.

“Please.” You beg him again.

Jungkook very fucking slowly starts inserting his member into you, one inch at a time. You choke on air as you feel him start to bottom out. He feels incredible. You feel so full, you feel so satisfied. You wish he would stay inside you like this forever.

Jungkook falls forward, releasing short, deep breaths as he feels the way your walls tighten around him.

“So tight.” He mentions in a husky voice. “So fucking tight.”

He takes a moment to be inside you like this, breathing harshly into the crook of your neck. You start to get uncomfortable with your hands behind your back.

“Please, let me touch you.”

“You were bad tonight.” Jungkook breathes out, “You think you get to touch me?” He says while sliding his cock out of you before he’s slamming it back in. You whine and moan and feel so fucking overwhelmed.

“Please!”

Jungkook thrusts in and out of you over and over, his cock brushing that special spot inside that’s got you seeing stars. He knows exactly what he’s doing. He’s gotten to know your body over the last couple of months and he has not disappointed.

“Jungkook!” You scream his name and he grins down at you, loving his view. “Fuuuccckkkk.” You groan out as he continues fucking you faster and harder. His moans are no better than yours, his whine and whimpers filling the room. You feel so fucking good and look so fucking beautiful.

“Fuck, I’m going to come.” Jungkook admits, not slowing down. “Come with me?” he softly commands and you cry out in frustration.

“Let me touch you! Let me see you!”

“Not this time, my love.” His voice is strained as he tries to hold on for you, his fingers finding your clit as he rubs quick circles on it, getting you there faster.

“Fuck, please come,” he begs. “You’re allowed to come now baby” and you finally let go. You release moan after desperate moan. Your orgasm hitting you so fucking hard that it leaves you shaking and breathless. Jungkook finally comes as well, his hips stilling as he shoots his cum deep within you.

“Good girl, good girl.” He pants out, his body collapsing on top of yours. He stays inside you for a few moments as you both calm down. He caresses your cheek, his hand going to the back of your head as he slowly unties the blindfold…it falls from your face and your eyes are stained black with smeared makeup. He chuckles at the view, he finds you so fucking sexy.

“Good girl.” He says again, leaning in to kiss your lips. You kiss back instantly, and smile at him as you pull away.

“Untie me.” You request, and Jungkook lifts himself off you and helps you sit up. He unties the silk restraints around your wrists and throws the material off to the side.

“You did so good baby.” He leans in to kiss your cheek and you blush.

“All this because I didn’t introduce you to Ian?”

Ian, that’s that bastards name, Jungkook thinks.

“He was trying to dance with you…” Jungkook pouts, “He didn’t understand that you are mine.”

“I’ll be more cautious next time.” You promise. “And speaking of next time,” you say with a smirk, “It’ll be you tied up and blindfolded, not me.” You leave a quick kiss to his lips.

“Fuck, I would like that a lot.”

“Oh baby, I know.”

#bts #bts smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #always you drabbles

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vibraniumwing · 3 years

Text

soft.

a bucky barnes x fem!reader wherein the reader comes home to see the super soldier with a toddler tucked in his lap.

WARNING: none! (all mistakes within the story are mine)

A/N: soft and domestic (and clingy) bucky, anyone? i’ve written this with tfaws bucky in mind after episode five where he was on the couch and smiled after seeing sam’s nephews. so yes now i present to you bucky with a child bcs we need that content, ,, good bYe for i shall be drowning in my own feels.

---

“Do you really have to go, doll?” Bucky asked, watching you by the frame of your shared bedroom door with his hands crossed against his chest. A heavy sigh heaving from his lips as his eyes observed you pick out a shirt to wear, hands grasping on his black shirt and opted to wear that; a small smile formed on his lips as you slipped into the clothing piece, adoring how big it looks on you.

You turned to him with your hand on your waist, an eyebrow raised, “Unless you want to starve for a whole month then fine I won’t go to the grocery” you say teasingly, checking yourself out in the mirror before walking up to him, arms linking around his neck loosely; his hands circling around your waist in a protective manner as he pulls you into him. “I won’t be gone for the whole day, James.”

He groaned softly, wanting nothing more than to accompany you but seeing that you were going with your mother, he opted out. “You always say that then be gone for the whole afternoon.” he grumbles in between the kisses he gives you. “You and your mom take so much time at the grocery store.”

You threw your head back and laughed, finding his small whiny state adorable. You retract your arms from behind his neck and cupped the sides of his face, squishing his cheeks gently. “You sound like a child, Buck. I promise I won’t be long. Besides, you have Alpine to keep you company.” you motion your head to the sleeping cat on the bed.

“Now please let me go so I can leave now and be back sooner.” you tell him, pressing one final kiss to his lips before ducking out of his embrace, making your way to the front door and grabbing your car keys before turning back to see him standing behind you with a small pout on his lips (albeit he would never admit to doing such an act),

You grinned and walked up to him, reaching up to press a small kiss on his lips. “Sometimes it's hard to believe you’re this big scary dude that can take twenty men down in a course of ten minutes when all I see is this big baby.” you tease, a hand snaking up to the back of his head to play with the ends of his hair softly.

“Doll wait before you go” Bucky starts off, holding onto you, cheeks lightly flushed as he hesitated with his words, clearing his throat lightly before looking away, “Can you set up that damn Netflix thing on the TV before you leave?”

Your gaze on him softened even more and nodded, leading him to the living room and set the whole thing up for him, handing him the remote right after. “I’m guessing you can manage now?” he smiled shyly, the area around his eyes crinkling as he nodded. “Yeah, I will. Thanks, doll.”

“I’ll be back later, I love you, Buck!” You bid him a goodbye, looking back at him from the door and gave him a small wave, the male waving back before focusing on the TV, searching for that one movie you suggested he watch.

“What was that movie called again? RIght, The Breakfast Club”

---

Not even half-way through the movie, Bucky had somehow fallen asleep on the couch, not finding the first few minutes of the film entertaining. He somehow fell deep into slumber that he didn’t even notice the front door of the house opening until he felt something being placed on his stomach.

He stirred awake and the first thing his blurry vision could make out is the outline of a toddler sitting on him. “Hey James, I’m leaving Hugo with you and Y/N for the weekend. Our babysitter cancelled out last minute and I’ve been trying to call my sister but she hasn’t picked up any calls.” Damian, your younger brother said in a rush, putting down your nephew’s baby bag on the coffee table. “Thanks James, we owe you one.”

But before Bucky could get a say in any of this, Damian was already out the door and the sound of a car pulling away was followed. Barely half-awake, he stared at the tyke who was staring right back at him with his innocent E/C doe eyes. “What do I do with you?”

He takes Hugo in his arms as he sits up, placing him on his lap, his metal arm reaching over to pause television. “Y/N’s better at this than I am.” he mumbles, watching the child look around the room before he started to fidget on the larger male’s lap, wanting to roam around.

Bucky sighs, “Now why won’t Y/N answer her calls?” he asks the tiny human who was still staring up at him. He reaches over to grab his phone and dials your number, only to hear it ring from the other side of the house, inside your room. He dropped the call and placed his phone inside his pocket, now wondering what he could do to keep the small person alive.

“Usually Y/N deals with you.” He says, watching the small child struggle on his lap, clearly wanting to get down. Bucky finally gets what Hugo wanted to do and sets him down on the carpeted floor, watching the toddler (wobbly) walk around the space freely.

Seeing that the child was doing alright after finding a small fixation with Alpine who was now resting near the couch, he returned his attention back to the TV to resume watching the movie. His attention split in half as he continued to glance back at the kid who was now playing with the toys you had brought him and kept at in a basket in the corner of the living room where you deemed it “Hugo’s Area”

Bucky was finally getting into the film, entertainment written all over his face at the sight of the students dancing around the library until it morphed into one of concern when a small bonk followed by a loud cry resonated the room making him look over at Hugo who was already flushed from crying.

He paused the movie again and rushed over to Hugo’s side, taking the small boy in his arms, cradling him on his lap as he tried to calm him down. “Now kid, don’t cry on me. C’mon” he mumbled, raising him up lightly to look at his forehead as he searched for any wounds, relieved to find none.

“C’mon James, what would Y/N do…” He said to himself, standing up as he moved around and cradled the crying child, trying to remember what you would do whenever he has meltdowns like this.

“Oh god, right!” Bucky exclaimed as he remembered, quickly going to the couch and sat down, placing Hugo on his lap as he gently placed his vibranium hand on the back of his head and his flesh one cupping the smaller one’s cheek, wiping the tears that glistened on his smooth skin.

Seeing how the toddler was starting to calm down, he carefully spoke, “Now you gotta work with me, little one.” Bucky then proceeded to blow softly on his face, remembering how you would do that when Hugo was having a fit. “Now can you do that for me as well?” He asked, encouraging the child with a small smile.

Once he felt the kid do the same thing, he repeated the steps a few more times until he was completely calm, letting the child snuggle up against his chest, feeling how he would occasionally let out a small shuddering sob from time to time, making Bucky laugh at the adorable action. “Now what do you want to do?” he gently asked, the cold surface of his metal hand that caressed the child’s back making small bubbles of laughter elicit from the baby.

“Bucky wead [ read ] pwease?” was all that left the two-year old’s mouth, causing a small surprise from the older. Hugo then pushed himself off from Bucky’s chest and turned to his small corner of the room, raising his small arm and pointing his even smaller finger towards the bookshelf that was filled to the brim with story books.

A chuckle left the soldier’s lips, “Alright then, little dude. Go take your pick.” he then proceeded to let him down and watch as the toddler walked his way towards the array of books and picked out one, running back towards him with a big smile.

“Alright big guy, what do you have for me?” Bucky asked, taking the tyke in his arms once again, taking the book from Hugo’s hands. He let out a (very) fake gasp of excitement which made the toddler laugh out loud as his reaction, making small little wiggles of his own eagerness for the book.

Bucky shifted in his seat a little to be more comfortable, letting Hugo snuggle up to him as he opened the book and started to read, “Llama Llama, red pajama, reads a story with his mama.”

---

You were elated to finally come back home and fall into your lover’s arms from a long day of errands with your mom. After the Target trip with your mom, you had to drive her back home and help her with her own groceries and pack up everything with her over at your childhood home一 with an addition of having a few serious talks with her about your future.

“Seriously, Y/N. When are you going to give me a grandchild?” Your mother poked your sides as you helped her bring in the bags filled with her stuff. Ever since Damian introduced Hugo to the family, she’d been on your heels about when you and Bucky would bring one to them as well; admittedly you and him had been in a much longer relationship than Damian and his wife which surprises everyone even more.

You shrugged, rolling your eyes in a playful manner. “I don’t know, mom. I think I’m content being with Bucky for now.” you answered truthfully, setting the items on the kitchen island and turned to her, “Besides, we have Alpine! Our cat!”

This made your mother sigh, laughing softly at your antics. “I know my sweet girl, but I’m just so excited to see a little you or James run around with Hugo.” Her answer causes your heart to swell at the thought of starting a family with him some day; conversations like this with him are normal but are always caught in a fleeting moment so you were never certain about his opinions on the matter.

“Well you just have to wait and see, ma.”

Taking the bags in your hand, you walked over to the door and opened it with ease, expecting to see Bucky waiting for you on the other side only to be greeted by none. Your eyebrows were furrowed as you carefully stepped inside, assuming he had fallen asleep as he waited for you until you heard his quiet voice resonating through the living room. “Little llama, don’t you know? Mama llama loves you so”

You peeked at the source of the sound and what you saw made you just melt on the spot. Bucky had Hugo on his lap, your nephew playing with the thumb of his artificial arm as he listened to the story that he was barely paying attention to as he was already falling asleep.

Not wanting to interrupt the moment, you graced on over to the kitchen in silence and arranged everything as quiet as you can. The smile on your face growing bigger at the thought of how much of a good father Bucky could be; the sight of him with your nephew caused a thousand butterflies to dance around in your stomach freely.

“You’re back, doll?” Bucky’s quiet voice made you jump, head whipping to his direction where he stood with Hugo fast asleep in his arms.

You nod and walk towards him, offering to take him from his arms and Bucky disagreed, pulling away from your attempts. “Hugo’s with me, I’ll take him to bed and I’ll help you finish out here, alright?”

Chuckling softly, you agree and reach up to place a quick kiss on your nephew’s forehead, moving aside so Bucky can place him down inside your room.

You were folding up the plastic bags when you felt a pair of arms sneak up and circle your waist, capturing you in a back hug. Your back was flat against his chest, the warmth from his body making you relax in his arms. Turning around, you let your arms snake up around his neck, your hands playing with the ends of his hair, his physique visibly loosening up. “So your brother came here earlier and said you weren’t picking up your calls.”

“I forgot my phone, i know.” you told him, throwing your head back slightly to let out a soft groan of annoyance at yourself before looking back at him. You met his gaze and his eyes were filled with adoration and love with a spark of something you can’t seem to pinpoint. “What’s going through that head of yours, James?”

He hummed softly, pressing a quick kiss to your lips, “I was just thinking of how I want to have a family of my own with you.” he answered truthfully, not finding anything shameful in admitting his thoughts. “The afternoon I spent with Hugo made me realize I want that for us as well.” his words were soft and dripping with enthusiasm at the thought of being with you for the rest of your days.

This made your cheeks flush lightly, a happy smile resting on your lips as you were already in agreement of his words, “I’ve been thinking the exact same thing, Bucky. I can’t wait to have our own little minion running around the house.” you admitted, this time making Bucky smile even wider than yours, happy that you had the same thought.

“Also, not to brag but I think I’m his favourite now.” Bucky said out of nowhere, grabbing the small carton of chocolate milk from behind you and letting you go, opening the drink and chugging it down in one go.

You rolled your eyes at his words, playfully flipping him off as you sauntered into the pantry where you were arranging your stock of goods. “I highly doubt that, he loves me way more.”

“That’s what you think but Hugo made me read his favourite book to him so now I’m his favourite. He even said it himself.”

“Oh no he didn’t!”

---

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#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes fics #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes one shot #marvel #mcu #marvel x reader

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