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loveandmurders · 2 years

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Love ya, big bro (Part III : Lester)

Hello everyone! This is the last part of this oneshot about Sinclair baby sister!reader telling her brothers she loves them. It’s based on the headcanons I did : Part I and Part II. If you want to read Bo’s and Vincent’s version of this oneshot it’s here and here.

I’m doing one more story for this AU, and then I’ll post something for Michael Myers. Hope you’ll enjoy!

Warnings : Creeps but pretty fluffy overall.

From the start, you had known it wasn’t the greatest idea you ever had. You didn’t know those people very well, and when you had agreed to follow them to that rave party with your current partner, your guts had screamed at you to not do that. First, you didn’t know your partner that well. It was more like a sex friend than anything else and it wasn’t a very long relationship; only a few months. Plus their friends were a bit shady and particular, not that you could say anything about it when you thought about your own family though. But those people were talking a lot about all the drugs they were going to have tonight and even though you didn’t say anything, you didn’t like the sound of that. You didn’t want to be surrounded by people you didn’t know who would be so high. You didn’t know how they would act then.

Your sex friend was too hyped about everything and didn’t check on you. You also didn’t like how one of the men looked at you. You recognised the animalistic desire in his eyes and it made you want to run away from him. The rave party was also quite far away from Ambrose, so if you needed your brothers they would never be able to arrive in time to help you. At least, you had the spirit to take the small gun Bo got you for the day you were leaving home. He had taught you how to use it as well, so you could always count on that. But if you got drugged or hurt, you wouldn’t do much. You were one girl against quite a few guys and your current partner was really not the protective kind, which was usually fine, your brothers were more than enough on that front. But tonight, you might need someone to look after you, just in case.

You decided to call Lester before going to the party. You isolated yourself in the bathroom and dialled his number. He was quick to answer, as usual. He was always such an excited puppy.

“Yes, darl?” he smiled, always happy when you were calling him.

“Hey, Les… Look, don't tell anything to Bo, ‘kay?” you asked him right away. You could hear Lester smiling even more at that. You were usually saying everything to the twins, so he liked the sound of that. He liked to be reminded you trusted him with everything, maybe even more than Bo.

“And Vinny?” he asked, pushing his luck like the cheeky road killer he was.

“Nah, nah, no one. Promise?” you replied and you could tell Lester was feeling very good about himself at that moment.

“Sure thin’” he hummed, waiting for you to continue as he stopped the car so he could fully focus on your voice.

“If the twins knew, they’d brin’ me back home right away; but I’d like you to be ready to come get me actually.” you explained

“Watcha doin’?” he asked, and now he was frowning. If he was glad you trusted him with a secret, he didn’t want you to take any kind of risk. He wanted you safe, as much as the twins did.

“Goin’ to a party in the countryside. But ain’t sure ’m trustin’ the people ’m goin’ with” you continued.

“You’ve got your gun?” he asked.

“Yes, don't worry ‘bout that. I just need ya to get ready to come get me and to brin’ me to your place if I send ya a SOS message. I’ll send ya the address through messages, ‘kay?” you asked.

“‘M not likin’ it, darl” he said and he was now regretting you asking him not to say a word to the twins, and you could guess his thoughts.

“Com’on Lesty, I know ya can take care of me as well as the twins do… maybe even better” you tried to coax him. Lester was half aware you were manipulating him, but it was working very well. He didn’t know how to deny you anything anyways, and he liked the little secrets between the two of you. It made him feel included.

“‘Kay, ‘kay, but ya betta be real careful” he said with a pout, still quite uncertain with the favour you were asking from him.

“I promise, that’s why ‘m callin’ ya” you smiled.

You sent the address and you heard he received your message. You let him some time to check it and he hummed with disapproval in his tone.

“Darl… ‘s far away” he said and you sighed

“I know, I know. But I’m sure it’ll be fine. ’m just bein’ paranoid” you tried to reassure him.

“How ‘bout I join ya?” he offered

“At the party?” you asked

“Yeah. I’d be your guardian angel” he said and you let escape a chuckle

“Sorry to tell ya you ain’t no angel” you teased and he let out a laugh as well, but you know his offer was serious.

You were about to answer when your friend knocked at the bathroom door and called for you. You didn’t like being pressured like that and you asked them to wait for you five more minutes, before adding you were inviting someone over. You went back to your conversation with Lester.

“‘Kay. Join me there and if ‘s bad, we go to your place” you said and you could tell Lester was quite relieved

“Sure, we don’t wanna Bo knowin’” he chuckled and you smiled.

“Love ya, Lester” you said before hanging up the phone, not giving him the time to reply.

It was hard to say those words and you didn’t want to get emotional. He was quite happy he had stopped the car earlier, because he found himself quite flustered. He watched the phone as he let his hand fall on his lap. He couldn’t stop to grin like the happiest man on Earth. Gosh, he loved you too.

You exited the bathroom and finished getting ready before leaving the house with everyone.

“Who did you invite?” the man who enjoyed watching you a little too much asked. He seemed quite disappointed you were bringing someone, and you noticed it.

“My brother” you replied and the man frowned but he didn’t add anything.

Which you liked the most about Lester was that he seemed defenceless. When you were asking Bo to come with you, it was obvious the man was going to kick anyone who would come a little bit too close to you. But Lester seemed sympathetic and sweet. The truth was he could be as lethal as his big brothers. You could too, you weren’t a damsel in distress and more than once you fought with someone who insulted your brothers. But it was nice to not be alone in a situation like that. Lester was your backup… your guardian angel. He was going to let you enjoy yourself until you would need him.

You recognised Lester's truck when you arrived on the field. The music was already very loud and you heard people happily screaming. You exited the car and scanned the place, looking for your brother. You saw each other at the same time, and you both walked toward one another. He smiled at you and you noticed he quickly looked you up and down to make sure you were fine. You rolled your eyes at him before guiding him to your friends. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder and kept you close. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to tell you he loved you now, but he didn’t want to embarass you so he stayed quiet.

Your partner was a bit stressed out to meet someone from your family because you were always speaking about them with so much love and admiration. More than your brothers could ever know. You did a quick presentation and Lester didn’t like those people very much but he wouldn’t say anything to you. You were a big girl and you called for him, so it was going to be alright.

When you got tired of screaming and dancing you sat down in the grass with Lester who hadn’t let you alone one second. It was just the two of you at that moment and you found yourself smiling. You were glad you had called Lester. Your brothers always made things so much better.

“How ‘bout we go?” he asked and you looked up at him.

“Ya bored?” you wondered. He didn’t say anything at first and then shrugged

“Don’t like how he’s lookin’ at ya” he replied and you knew what he meant.

“Yeah, let’s go home then” you nodded and got up.

You helped him get up as well. You sent a quick message to your friend to let them know you were leaving without them, and then followed Lester to his truck.

“My place ‘s home too?” he finally said when you put your phone away. You were confused for an instant.

“Well wherever my brothers are is home” you replied and you would swear you saw Lester blushing despite the darkness surrounding the two of you. He shyly leaned closer to kiss your cheek before grabbing your hand in his.

“Why so cheesy today?” he asked, as he tried to hide his reactions (quite poorly).

“Because ‘s been a while ‘s been just ya and me…”

“Against the world” you both said at the same time before laughing loudly at your inside joke.

You really prayed for the rest of your life to be happy like that, with the few people you truly loved.

#lester sinclair x reader #lester sinclair x you #lester sinclair x sister #sinclair brothers x sister #bo sinclair x you #vincent sinclair x you #house of wax (2005)#house of wax x reader #house of wax one shot

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trillscienceofficer · 11 months

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okay so i’ve seen voyager all the way through once like a few years ago and i am currently rewatching it, plus i’ve been in the fandom sort of for like a couple of months, but like, i’m not sure i follow why b’elanna would be so extremely upset abt c7? i know there were some unresolved feelings(??) in the earlier seasons, and like sure, she might find it weird or that it doesn’t make sense, but why would she be like Super Upset and Resentful at Chakotay for it? is it something i forgot from the later seasons or am i just a bit dense LMAO 😭😭

You aren't dense and I don't think you've forgotten anything, as always when it comes to hypothetical scenarios I'm just laying out my opinion and my interpretation of each character, and it's totally fine if you see things differently.

I think there's also a misunderstanding here, in that I don't actually think B'Elanna would be 'super upset and resentful' about it, I just believe that she'd be disappointed in Chakotay's choices and wouldn't want to talk to him for a while because of this. I understand why this happened as I've made jokes about it for the most part and so I exaggerated things a bit, and that's on me. I don't think B'Elanna is the type to be resentful for petty reasons at all, and if I were to write this in a more structured narrative I would take a different approach in showing the situation.

My reasoning is mainly based on the fact that B'Elanna in canon doesn't really like Seven, and has also the kind of rapport with Chakotay where B'Elanna assumes (or hopes) he is on 'her side', but it's not always the case. I keep thinking about this dialogue between them in “Extreme Risk”:

TORRES: This whole thing is so ridiculous. I don't report a few scrapes and suddenly Janeway thinks there's something wrong with me. Typical Starfleet, huh? CHAKOTAY: You have been running holodeck programmes without safety protocols.

B'Elanna is referencing their shared history in order to make him stop questioning her decisions, but he isn't buying it. In this case Chakotay was justified in ignoring the attempt (she was injuring herself), but there are so many similar cases over the course of the show in which Chakotay explicitly does not take her side even when she's not in the wrong (like about her supposed 'anger issues' in “Juggernaut”). Additionally, Chakotay was the one who ordered B'Elanna to work with Seven when B'Elanna didn't want to way back in “Day of Honor”, completely overriding B'Elanna's authority, and I can imagine B'Elanna having sort of internalized the fact that Chakotay won't be on 'her side' whenever Seven is involved, which hurts all the more given the mentor/mentee undertones they've had ever since their Maquis days. A relationship between Seven and Chakotay would be the ultimate confirmation of her gut feelings, and while I don't think of B'Elanna as a resentful person, she does see the world as an 'us vs them' kind of deal. From her perspective, I think, it would feel like Chakotay is 'betraying' their friendship by forming a relationship with a person with whom B'Elanna's had so much difficulty getting along. She would be deeply disappointed in Chakotay for not understanding, but of course it's not like she's ever said anything to him about the way she sees their friendship.

It's obviously not a very "mature" response but honestly, I think it's very... human to have mixed feelings about a friend dating someone you can't stand (and that they know you can't stand) have had such a difficult time with in the past, and you still don't necessarily want to interact with very often (ETA: see discussion in the replies). And it's just as likely B'Elanna would never even mention that it's a problem for her unless someone prods her, although I do think she'd at least land a couple of sarcastic remarks about it, which may or may not feel like unwarranted attacks to Chakotay, hence the disagreements. But again, ymmv.

#askbox #c7 #voy #eta: i think it could spiral very easily also because i can see chakotay getting defensive about seven

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lean-mean-demon-genevieve · 8 months

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Very reasonably priced woo-woo machine, I see she understands her targeted audience. Btw, what is parasite cleansing? I feel like I’m missing something here…

Anon #2 that came through while I was putting this together:

Parasite cleansing? Apart from the fact that in the US this really only an issue for pets and livestock, I’m still calling bull. No way that anything designed to kill parasites wouldn’t be intrinsically toxic to this leech.

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Ok, get ready. Because THIS is one of my favorite things to talk about when it comes to Gen…You’re not missing anything because “parasite cleansing,” as she’s referring to it, is not a real thing. In recent years, G has become obsessed with “gut health” alongside the rest of the wellness community. Part of that is a concern for parasites that may be upsetting your delicate GI balance. 🙃 More info on the trend, scam, and risks here.

Time will tell if she actually circles back around to talk about this more like she said she would in that video. I hope she tells us who suggested it to her. But overall, Gen’s hypochondria stems from a mix of generalized anxiety, perfectionism/the drive to be constantly improving her “health”, and an abundance of access to resources and “professionals” who validate her concerns. G has been on this health optimization kick for quite a while but she recently named one of her major influences.

In the podcast where she talked about her implants, she also mentioned her doctor by name; Dr. Sharon Hausman-Cohen of Resilient Health. This whole medical practice is set up for the rich and the anxious. A few things stand out to me upon reading the doc’s bio on their website: First, she is the lead scientist for IntelxxDNA, a genetic testing service that claims to be able to tell you what medical concerns you may be at risk for, and advise on next steps.

As I researched this service further, other resources would note that one risk of this kind of testing is an increase in stress and anxiety. And that makes sense if you find out your DNA makes you at risk for some super scary disease. Just ask Gen:

So if I’m reading between the lines here, it sounds like G got her DNA profile read at this practice and then has become, understandably, even more hyper-aware of her body and body sensations as a result. And then you have a doctor with an invested interest going, “oh no, let’s monitor how you’re feeling at all times.” This is a recipe for disaster when you’re anxious. You will see what you look for, without fail. No wonder she bites her cuticles.

Furthermore, the clinical validity and utility of these tests cannot be confirmed as of yet. (Source) Clinical utility refers to whether the test can provide helpful information about diagnosis, treatment, management, or prevention of a disease. So all this hyper-focus and making it rain on this doctor could all be for nothing.

You might saying, “what does she mean by making it rain on the doctor?” Well, finally there’s this part:

Private membership at the doctor’s office? If you’re unfamiliar with this form of boutique or concierge medicine, it may be because you aren’t in the right tax bracket. Here’s a fairly quick rundown that I like, but it’s basically paying a monthly out-of-pocket fee to a physician for 24/7 access to their care. For my friends in the US, our insurance plans could never. (And you still need health insurance or deep pockets on top of it for additional prescriptions, tests, etc…seriously, read the article above.)

I won’t go into the ethical implications of providing access to care to only the rich, but it’s definitely there imho. Plus check out the practice’s condescending phrasing: a membership is the ultimate self-care. Don’t you care about your health??! Inquire about giving us your money today!

So why am I going on and on about this? Because our dear Gen is stuck in an echo chamber of health anxiety and she wants you to be right there with her. There’s nothing inherently wrong with integrative medicine or holistic practices, but life is hard enough without allowing this broad to add to your stress. If you find yourself asking if you too need some crap she’s peddling, the answer is likely no. And she doesn’t need it either. She just has access to it...and she’s probably hoping you help foot her bill with a purchase through a monetized link.

#anti genevieve #the wellness trap #dont fall for it

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 2 years

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Could you do one with a plus size reader if not it’s cool

Peter’s Reward

TASM!Peter x plus size reader

Marvel Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Peter finally gets his happiness.

A/N: Song lyrics are from Love Grows (Where My Rosemary Goes) by Edison Lighthouse

Warnings: just fluff I wanted to do a little fic about Peter finally being happy because he deserves it, brief mentions of anxieties and low self-esteem as well as injuries, no use of Y/N

WC: 702

Minors DNI

“…I’m a lucky fella and I just gotta tell her that I love her endlessly because love grows where my Rosemary goes and nobody knows like me…” The voice trailed off, but continued to hum the gentle melody that played softly through the house.

Peter groaned as he rolled over, stretching out his sore body, wincing as he strained a particularly tender spot just between two of his ribs. Just for a moment, he settled back into the bed, allowing himself to breathe, remembering what he had. He breathed out slowly then pulled himself up, reaching for his discarded shirt but not finding it on the floor where he left it.

A beautiful smile came over his face as he realised where it went. He casually strolled from the bedroom, sweatpants hanging low on his hips. There you were, the most gorgeous person he had ever seen, both inside and out.

You had actually known Spider-man before Peter Parker. You found him in an alley after a bad night of crime fighting. Being a nursing student, you dragged him into your apartment and carefully cleaned him up, taking care not to remove his mask as you stitched some of his more severe wounds. When he woke up, he was greeted with a container full of baked goods and a hand-written note on how to take proper care of his cuts and your number. ‘Even heroes need help sometimes.’

So, every once in a while he would swing over to that small apartment where he would be fed and watered and patched up. Ten minute visits turned into hours of chatting over cups of tea (his mask just pulled up enough to expose his lips) while you studied or cleaned.

Soon enough, he couldn’t stand it anymore. One day as you were sitting at the small kitchen table, humming as you poured over an anatomy textbook, Peter ripped his mask from his head and kissed you. He loved the way your plump stomach and chest fit against him. You were so warm and soft, a feeling that was immediately addicting to the superhero.

He loved everything about you, how you clutched his shirt as you kissed, those little sighs you gave out as he held you closer, the subtle scent of vanilla that seemed to always follow you around.

Things weren’t always perfect, they never are. You fought sometimes, usually over his safety or how hard you were working but it always ended up with you wrapped in each other’s arms at the end of the day. Then there were those times when your self-esteem would plummet and he’d bring you back up, pulling you back from falling into that dark pit. You held him close when his anxiety got too overwhelming, making him scream and cry or just go quiet for days at a time.

But there were moments when Peter looked at you and realised how lucky he was to have found you.

Those moments where you sat on the roof of your shared apartment so try and see some stars, those nights where he didn’t go out on patrol and just wrapped his arms around you as you swayed to soft music. It was like all his sacrifice, all his heartache had led him to your arms.

And now, as you danced around the kitchen, his white shirt stretched across your chest along with just a pair of underwear, he felt peace. His senses weren’t going haywire, he didn’t feel that constant gnawing in his gut for the need to go out and risk his life to protect people. He strode forward and wrapped his strong arms around your thick waist, whispering the words to the song into your ear as you continued to gather ingredients for cinnamon rolls, a personal favourite of his.

Peter buried his face in your neck, planting a soft kiss on your warm skin, his fluffy brown hair tickling you slightly. “I love you.” You lift his head and gaze into those gorgeous brown eyes with flecks of green that always have the perfect puppy-dog look. You kiss his lips gently.

“I love you more.”

You were his love, his life, his protector, his reward.

Taglist

@im-a-slut-for-fluff

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plus-size-reader · 3 years

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Cooler than Him

Wade Wilson x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 2312 words

Warnings: none

Summary: Wade flirting with you, a rival headhunter that hangs out sometimes

(Part of draft clean out, just an idea I had that I really liked)

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You were cooler than him.

Wade was perfectly aware of that, but that didn’t deter him from becoming absolutely fascinated by you, even when Weasel told him it was a terrible idea.

You would squash him like a bug.

He knew it, and so did everyone else.

There wasn’t anyone in the scene who didn’t know who you were.

You had been around for a long time, and maintained one of the highest body counts around. If somebody needed someone else dead, they would come to you for a heavy price.

By all accounts, you would chew up Wade Wilson and spit him out but he really didn’t seem to care.

If nothing else, the fact that you were so scary only made him more interested in you because he was a glutton for punishment.

You were stunning, with the sort of blank stare that let him know just how much you hated his guts.

That was something that a guy like Wade couldn’t pass up, after all, women were so much hotter when they hated him.

He couldn’t help it.

“I’m gonna go talk to her” the words came from his throat with a decided nod. He had been staring at you for the past hour or so, but only now did it seem like a good idea to address you.

It certainly wasn’t.

No amount of time would ever make that a good idea, but when Weasel once again tried to tell him that, he was only waved off. Surely, the bartender didn’t know what he was talking about.

You couldn’t be that bad.

If there was one thing Wade had, it was game, and he was sure that once you got to know him, there would be nothing keeping you from falling for him.

Besides, no harm could come from him offering to buy you a drink, so that’s exactly what he did.

Before he could risk his best friend talking him out of it, Wade made his way across the grungy floor to where you were sitting with a sly smile on his face, confidence practically oozing from his every pore.

Wade thought that if he had anything, it was game, but in fact, all he had was blind confidence and the fact that he was immortal.

Though, in order to think that talking to you would be a good idea, he had to also be an idiot.

“Can I get you another drink?” he asked, doing his best to be smooth as he slid into the chair across from you, not missing the look you shot his way as he did.

No one ever bothered you while you were sitting here, not unless they had a job they needed done, and Wade certainly didn’t look like a client.

You worked for high dollar clients, men who would pay thousands to have work rivals taken out and women who wanted their husbands dead.

You definitely didn’t do whatever it was he needed.

“You can’t afford what I’m drinking” you allowed, not even bothering to look at him. Your eyes were trained on a few men across the bar, a fight budding between them.

That was far more interesting to you than whatever this guy wanted, something you weren’t sure he’d ever actually get around to asking you.

When you finally did let your eyes slip to his face, you saw that he was just staring at you, as if he couldn’t get any weirder.

“Well, then maybe you should be buying my drinks” he joked, though as he laughed, the dead air hung around him as a stale reminder that he had no business being here.

Luckily, tact was one of those things Wade just never seemed to develop.

It didn’t seem to matter that he was most assuredly striking out, at least he’d gotten to talk to you.

He was a glass half full kind of guy, after all.

“Can I do something for you?” you wondered, downing the shot in front of you that he’d brought with him from the bar.

It was not what you’d been drinking, or what you’d drank for a long time, but it would have to do.

This guy wasn’t going away anytime soon, and talking to him sober was sure to give you a migraine.

The action seemed to astound Wade, who was already so enamored with you that you could have stabbed him and he would have thanked you for it.

You were just so much cooler than him.

“Absolutely, I mean, anything” he hummed, practically picking his jaw up from the floor as he admired you. Had he been anyone else, Wade would have scurred away with his tail between his legs, but he wasn’t anyone else.

There was only one Wade Wilson in the world, and he wanted you.

He had already made up his mind.

“You couldn’t afford that either” you allowed, the corner of your lip turning up just enough for Wade to gather that you were trying to tell him a joke, after he’d swallowed his tongue.

He really was in way over his head.

“I’m pretty resourceful, you never know” he countered, really doing his best to be smooth, even though it was becoming more and more obvious that he wasn’t. As confident as he was, you weren’t even breaking a sweat.

Clearly, he wasn’t the first guy in this place who tried to hit on you, but he was the first to have gotten this far.

“Yeah, I’m sure you are,” you muttered, glancing between where Wade was sitting in front of you and where the bartender was, intently staring at the pair of you like a crazy person.

In fact, as you looked around, you noticed that quite a bit of the bar had turned their attention to you.

Evidently, they had been expecting you to put him on his ass, and every second that passed with him still sitting in front of you shocked them further. It was pretty impressive that you hadn’t shooed him away.

...or broke his arm like the last guy.

“Friend of yours?” you asked, gesturing over to where Weasel was, not phased in the least by being made. He just couldn’t imagine that Wade’s insane plan was working. After all, he’d watched you put a lot of people in their place.

It wouldn’t have been hard for you to do the same to him.

Wade looked at you for a moment more before turning around to finally get a good look at whatever it was that had captured your attention.

The sight before him was embarrassing to say the least. His friend was leaning over the bar with his jaw resting on his hand, eyes glued to the impossible sight of Wade Wilson sitting so near to you.

Shit.

As if you needed any more reason to think he was a total loser.

“Uh, I guess you could call him that. He’s more of an informant” he lied, hoping that would make this whole thing a little less elementary.

It wasn’t lost on Wade that you were on another level, and every moment of your time you spent here was a gift.

Not that he was really making good use of it.

Really, he was blowing it.

The obvious lie got a laugh out of you, a sound that was music to Wade’s ears from the moment it left your lips. He actually got you to laugh?

There was no way, he wasn’t even that funny, and if memory served, you didn’t ever do that. At least, he hadn’t ever heard you laugh like that before.

“Oh, that’s funny huh?” he joked, turning around to face you completely once again, hoping he could ride this wave for a little longer.

He didn’t have the nerve to ask you out quite yet but that didn’t mean he was giving up either.

He just needed a better segway.

“Yeah, it is. What kind of information does Weasel get you? Middle school bullies and dime store thieves?” you prompted, trying to figure out how well that worked out for him.

After all, there was no way he was used to a clientele like yours.

Not the serious kind.

“Ouch” Wade chuckled, holding his heart in fake pain, though he couldn’t blame you for that assumption. It was true, the two of you were in two very different businesses but that didn’t mean you didn’t have anything to teach one another.

He could use some help polishing his image, and you certainly couldn’t hurt your own with a bit of softening.

“What? You’re a mercenary, not a high dollar assassin. It was simply an observation” you shrugged, that sly smirk pulling on your lips as if daring him to call you on your words.

You knew he wouldn’t.

No one would, but you assumed that perhaps a small part of you was curious to see just how far he would take this whole thing.

Clearly, he came over here hoping to get something from you, and you wanted to know what.

Talking to you, out of the blue, uninvited was a ballsy move, if nothing else and you were impressed.

As much as someone like you could be, that was.

“I bet I could be, if you gave me a shot” he shrugged, not quite understanding what made you so different from him.

You both killed for money and you were both having a drink in this shitty bar.

How different could you really be?

Just when you were starting to get bored, Wade found a way to pull you in again. That was one hell of a claim to make, especially to someone like you.

“Oh yeah? You think you could do what I do?” you questioned, and for a moment, Wade worried he may have actually upset you.

You had been giving him the benefit of the doubt thus far but he couldn’t be shocked to know he overstepped.

It wasn’t until you smiled again that he realized you had something else in mind.

“Probably, I kill criminals. What do you do? Take out rich white guys who’re cheating on their wives?” he pushed further, no longer worrying at all about upsetting you.

It was obvious that if you wanted him gone, he’d be gone.

Now, the two of you were just having a conversation, like any other two people.

“I deal with all kinds of clientele, but if you’re so confident, perhaps you’d like to give it a shot?” you offered, sure that he would back down once you called his bluff but you didn’t understand who you were talking to.

Wade wasn’t just some guy trying to impress you, he was also completely devoid of common sense.

He wasn’t ever going to back down from a challenge.

“Yeah, that sounds good. I only have one condition” he decided, finally finding his way in. He smiled, leaning a bit closer over the table, that whole plan coming together better than he couldn’t have planned.

It was happening.

“What?” you asked, shuddering to think of whatever it was he had in mind.

This conversation had actually gone okay so far, but just like every other guy, it wouldn’t shock you if he ruined it last minute.

You were just hoping he wouldn’t.

So far, Wade had managed to actually capture your attention in a way that wasn’t common for you and the potential that had wasn’t lost on you either. All you could do was hope that he was real.

It would definitely suck if he was just like everyone else always was with you.

“If I do it, you have to let me take you out” he grinned, trying to be as sly as he could. This wasn’t really something that ever went well for him, hitting on women and all that, but he knew he had to try.

If he made it this far and didn’t at least put it out there, he would never forgive himself.

You sighed, sort of relieved that he hadn’t come over here to try and get in your pants without any sort of interest in you, or to tell you that you weren’t nearly as talented as he was. You got plenty of that.

What was less common in a place like this was finding someone actually interested in you as a person.

It was rare, especially in your business.

“Okay Wade, you have yourself a deal” you agreed, sort of hoping that he didn’t get himself killed doing this. Going out with him may not have been where you thought this was going, but it might not be the worst.

He was interesting, and if he actually managed to do what you did without fail, you would definitely owe him something. Though, you didn’t have a ton of confidence over it either.

Wade wasn’t really prepared for this in the way he thought he was.

“I have just the client for you” you hummed, reaching into your pocket and handing him a card.

You had been doing some light recon on this guy for the last few days but there was no real reason not to let him handle it.

Not if he was so willing to do this.

Then, once he’d taken the card, you got up from the table and headed toward the bar’s exit, leaving Wade all alone.

He looked at the card for a second, a single name written on one side of it, who he assumed was the guy he had to find before turning it around. On the other side, of course, was a set of numbers.

Your phone number, if he had to guess.

God, you were so much cooler than him but it didn’t matter now. All that Wade cared about now was getting that date, after he killed this guy.

#wade wilson #deadpool #marvel #wade wilson x reader #wade wilson x ps reader #wade wilson x plus size reader #wade wilson imagine #deadpool x reader #deadpool x ps reader #deadpool x plus size reader #deadpool imagine #marvel x reader #marvel x ps reader #marvel imagine #marvel x plus size reader

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spinningwebsandtales · 2 years

Text

Imagine Being A Former Kunoichi Turned Slayer And Being Trained By Uzui

Slight Tengen Uzui X FemReader

Warnings: Uzui is a flirt, Reader would like to gut him.

(A/N:) I have been LOVING the new Demon Slayer season. I was ready to get passed seeing Rengoku die over and over and over. My poor fangirl heart can only take so much. Plus I loved this arc in the comic so seeing it come to life in animation is just breath taking. I didn’t like Tengen at first but this arc made me like him. So I wanted to write a small imagine with him in it. So until next time happy reading! ~Countess

“No no no you’re not being flashy at all! Try it again,” Uzui Tengen shouted from the branch he was sitting on, observing you while you trained.

“If you tell me to be flashy one more time I’m going to stab you,” you snarled showing your teeth as you brushed hair from your face.

“I’d like to see you try,” he smirked jumping down to the ground. “You’re never going to be the next Sound Hashira with that attitude!”

“I don’t want to be the Sound Hashira,” you retorted returning into your fighting stance. “Especially if that means that I have to be under your tutelage.”

The look he had given you could have melted steel but you refused to back down from him. Uzui had been the very epitome of a ninja and while you had admired him, after he had become a Hashira for the Demon Corps he had become quite boisterous and annoying. Of course you had been a Kunoichi and now a slayer, you found his way of doing things unbecoming. That’s why it had shocked you when the master had talked the man into taking you under his wing. While your skills were renowned across the land of Japan you had found the katana a pain to learn. While short blades, shuriken, and espionage was your forte the color changing katana felt unwieldy in your hands. Gripping the handle tightly you swung but felt the metal fight back. Uzui snorted while you just grew more frustrated.

“Relax,” he said his voice dropping an octave. “You’re too tense. I know short blades are your specialty but you can’t risk getting that close to a demon. Especially if it’s an Upper Rank.”

He stepped forward large form overshadowing yours as his arms rested against yours and his calloused hands swallowed yours. You gulped elbowing him harshly in the ribs.

“Relax,” he commanded. “I’m trying to help you.”

“Says you, ya flirt. I don’t need your help nor did I ask for it.”

While you moved away from him, he was completely relentless and this time he didn’t let go.

“Don’t grip so hard and brace your wrists. Don’t fight the momentum, use it. The world’s deadliest Kunoichi can do this.” His smile bright against the sky as you looked up. Did he actually pay YOU a compliment and not HIMSELF? That shocked you more than any touch he could have given you. But while he was a big distraction you took his tips to heart. You tried what he said and finally got a good swing with your blade.

“Hey I did it!” You turned around giving a short bow. “Thank you Uzui. I appreciate the lesson.”

“Now you just have to return the favor sometime cause now you owe me,” his smirk wiped the image of the genuine smile he had given you earlier seconds before. Now you were back to hating his guts.

“Never mind I take it back get out of here ya pervert.”

“Pervert?! Why you little!”

“Beat it! I don’t need ya,” you threw your katana sheath at him. He ducked it, which frustrated you but he took the hint and left. While you practiced he did stay close in case you gave him an opening to criticize you again. But in all honesty he couldn’t choose a better person to become Hashira after he was either dead or retired. And in your own way you were flashy.

#Tengen Uzui x Reader #Tengen Uzui / Reader #Tengen Uzui #Demon Slayer Kimetsu No Yaiba #Tengen Uzui Imagine #Demon Slayer Imagine #Imagine #Not My Gif #My Writing

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fandomwriterstuff · 3 years

Text

Getaway Car

Another plot-filled Rick Flag fic from me! I might add another chapter if this goes over well so let me know your thoughts!

~2.2k words

Rated T

You're the Suicide Squad's getaway driver and you're got a serious crush on their commanding officer, Rick Flag.

You were what one might call a liability in the operation. You weren’t a soldier under Amanda Waller’s thumb, and you weren’t a prisoner that she could threaten. You were purely there for the thrill at first. But you kept coming back for him. Rick Flag. The commanding officer of your dreams, a real hero. You weren’t sure if you idolized him or wanted to fuck him. Maybe it was a bit of both.

But as you sat in the car and eyed up the team sprinting out of the building, you skipped to your getaway song - Brianstorm by Arctic Monkeys - and revved the engine.

“Punch it, Baby!” Harley cackled as the three prisoners (plus Rick) slammed themselves into your vehicle.

You didn’t need to be told twice.

You thought it over as you narrowly evaded enemy trucks and sped down a dirt road. You were technically working for the law, so they shouldn’t need a getaway car, but they always were getting themselves into tight spots so you supposed it made sense.

It was a few minutes of beating drums, wild guitar solos, and Harley’s cackles as the playlist continued (House of the Rising Sun by the Animals came on just as you dared to slow down). You finally looked over to your right, and raised an eyebrow.

“You doing alright, Colonel?” You took stock of the dark, wet blood covering the left side of his face and the way he was cradling his right fist.

“Never better, darlin,” he offered you a signature smirk and you gave a nod before turning back to the road. You were on a main stretch now, paved and full of other vehicles. You’d likely lost your pursuers but it was your job to get away from them, so you kept an eye on the horizon behind you.

“How you always seem to be in the right place at the right time blows my mind, kid,” Boomer huffed a relieved laugh from the backseat.

“That’s sort of my job,” you replied in kind, smirking into the rearview mirror as you pulled onto the highway that would take you straight back to Belle Reve.

“You don’t talk about your job much though, I noticed,” he pushed and you rolled your eyes. You didn’t talk about yourself, and you didn’t talk about how you got into the getaway business.

“I like to have an air of mystery,” you caught the amused smile Rick tried to hide and brushed your hair back out of your eyes.

“What I’m wonderin,” he continued as if you hadn’t spoken, his accent coming through as he leaned forward through the gap between you and Rick. “Is how a pretty young thing like you got involved with a cold hearted bitch like Amanda Waller.”

You tightened your grip on the wheel (hopefully imperceptibly), and offered a light smile over to him.

“We’ve all got a past, Boomerang Man. Mine didn’t land me in prison, but I’m still here working for you weirdos,” you laughed and signaled your exit towards the Louisiana based metahuman prison.

“I’ll get your story some day, sweet cheeks, you’ll see,” he leaned back as you showed your identification to the guard and pulled into the penitentiary.

After you let the three prisoners off at their dropoff location (like a bunch of kindergarteners going to school), you pulled up to the employee parking area.

“You sure you’re alright?” You were quieter this time, worriedly glancing over at Rick again now that you were alone.

“Don’t you go worrying about me, pretty girl,” he pulled out all the stops with the cute pet name and the thousand megawatt smile, eyes warm and inviting. You were a goner, and you immediately dropped the subject. “I’ll see you in the debrief room,” you sighed after he’d closed the door and pulled the vehicle into your spot.

Another day, another debrief with that fucking psychopath Waller.

You smoothed down your jeans and t-shirt, you might work for the (wo)man, but you weren’t about to dress like a stuck up business person, or like a prison guard. You were too young for that bullshit.

“Baby,” Amanda Waller greeted you as you passed her into the meeting room. You hid your smirk, as you always did, when you took your seat. You’d forged all of your documentation upon taking this job, knowing that you didn’t want this woman knowing anything about your personal life. She didn’t know your real name, hell, she might not even know that Baby was your pseudonym. You sort of felt bad that you hadn’t ever told Rick your name, but you couldn’t risk it.

The debrief was a mess. You’d gotten out with the information the team went in for, but two out of the four of them were injured. Including the Colonel.

“Seems like the only person doing their job here is the fucking chauffer,” Waller spat before turning her eyes on a still-bloodied Rick Flag. “You can do better than this,” she spoke quietly before walking out. The others emptied out, leaving you leaning back in your chair, cotton candy pink Barbie™ t-shirt nearly glowing in the fluorescent lighting.

“I think you’re going to give her an aneurysm. She doesn’t know your identity and you don’t follow the dress code,” Rick had his eyes closed at the end of the long table, but he somehow knew you were alone in there together. You bit your lip. So she knew ‘Baby’ was a pseudonym. Good to know.

“She can’t get rid of me, she needs me,” you shrugged, nonchalant, but this was the wrong answer and you knew it immediately. You’d been working with Rick long enough to see the telltale signs of stress. Tightened shoulders, biceps bulging in his uniform, that vein struggling at his throat.

“You should be out there living your life, Baby,” his eyes shot open, darker than you’d ever seen them. “You shouldn’t be working yourself to death for Amanda Waller. Not like me and these guys. You don’t have a reason to be here,” you looked down, picking at the skull ring on your middle finger. You did have a reason. You were addicted to the feeling of being near Rick. You were obsessed with the way he spoke to you, the way he leaned in close when he was joking around with you, the way his eyes lit up when you made him laugh.

“I’m not about to tell you my life story in an audio and visually recorded meeting room,” you finally spoke, tone harsher than you intended. You stood, turned away from him and towards the door, your voice carrying as you exited. “You’re gonna have to buy me a drink if you want to get anything out of me.”

You didn’t look back to see the slack-jawed look on his face as you sauntered out of the debrief room.

You were in the deep swamp lands of Central Florida this time. Not your favorite place to be. You were blasting the air conditioning in the car as Stick Up by grandson blasted through the car stereo, your favorite angry song to listen to. This wasn’t a job you wanted to be on, but you had a contract and you were making money, and you got to work with Rick again, so it was alright. But it was a new team. Harley was out of jail and Boomer was injured from a prison fight. They were the two people you normally worked with other than Rick.

You had a gut feeling that something was going to go down, but you didn’t know what.

“Start the car!” one of the new members shouted and you frowned. The car was on already. But whatever, you shifted into Drive and waited for Rick and Co. to make it to the car. Only it was just the one guy. He hopped into the backseat and stared at you with wide eyes.

“What are you doing, get us out of here!” He was shouting but you aggressively put the car into Park.

“Where’s Rick? Where’s the rest of the team?”

“Dude, get us out of here!” The man was clearly panicking, and you glanced over at the building the team were supposed to infiltrate, biting your lip.

“Baby, why aren’t you moving?” Waller asked in your ear.

“It’s just the circus freak dude, no Rick, and no team members,” you replied calmly. “What are my orders?”

“Get us out!” The circus freak dude in question (you didn’t bother to ask his name), was bemoaning your existence from the backseat and you snapped. You jerked the center console open and pulled out your gun, pointing it back at him.

“Shut your mouth, or I’ll shut you up myself,” you put all of your fear, rage, and contempt into your glare, staring down the psycho prisoner just enough to put the fear of a woman into him, and he backed down.

“Colonel Flag is alive in there, but he’s the last one. Get in there, pick him up, and get out,” you grinned, shark-like at Waller’s voice. You could do that. You revved the engine, put the car into Drive, and hauled ass towards the building. You tuned out the moaning and wailing from the backseat and flicked the switch that activated your enhanced shields. With that in place, you drove straight towards the brick building at full speed. You could do this. You could do this. You hyped yourself up and didn’t flinch when the car made impact with the wall, immediately breaking through and skidding into a large open room. You looked around, assessing the group of men with guns pointing towards a closed door. Rick must be in there. You flipped another switch, this one with a gun sticker above it, and pulled at the steering wheel to aim the guns that came out of the front of the car. When all of the men finally turned towards you, you opened fire on them.

You’d killed for Waller before, usually by hitting people with the car, and while this was thrilling, you’d never had to actually use a gun on someone before. When they were all down, you pulled the car up, trying to ignore the crunching of bodies under the tires and opened the passenger side window.

“Get in the fucking car, Flag,” you screeched, and the door creaked the tiniest bit open. Rick peeked his head out, looked around for a hot second before locking eyes with you, and walked over before putting his ass in the passenger seat.

“I didn’t know the car had a gun in it,” he muttered, scratching at the back of his neck.

“Oh she has several,” the circus dude piped up from the back, and Rick side eyed you before promptly yelling at the other for leaving him behind. You took that as your cue to get the fuck out of there.

“You haven’t said anything in two hours,” Rick finally said as you entered Louisiana. He’d been on the phone with Waller for a while and then writing his debrief up on his phone.

“I’ve never shot anyone before. It’s a tad stressful,” you didn’t let on how nerve-wracking it had been to think you’d lost him, but you especially didn’t let on how freaked out you were about opening fire on a group of over a dozen men. You shrugged and kept your eyes on the road. He nodded in understanding. You didn’t want to talk about it. You appreciated his silence. When you finally dropped the circus dude off you had about six minutes before making it back to Rick’s dropoff.

“Baby?” He asked as you slowed down for a stop sign. You hummed in question, but he put his hand over yours, and you kept your foot on the brake as he shifted the car into park. You looked over at him, a frown on your face until he reached out and cupped your jaw with one calloused palm. His thumb brushed over your bottom lip and it felt like time wasn’t passing anymore.

“Thank you for coming back for me,” he murmured, and damn you thought he might kiss you. He didn’t, though. He tucked a stray piece of hand behind your ear, the feel of his fingertips caressing your neck made you shiver, and he smirked at the sight. It suddenly dawned on you.

He knew exactly what he did to you. He knew exactly how he was making you feel. That turned you the fuck on. He was teasing you.

“I think I’d like to take you out for that drink tonight, darlin. Maybe you’ll give me a good story. Maybe I’ll finally get your name,” he was so close to you, and god but you wanted to kiss him. But as you leaned in, he leaned back with a growing grin.

“Who knows, maybe you’ll get what you want, too,” he whispered before sitting back in his seat. “I’ll grab you after the debrief,” and that was him dismissing your advances until a later time. So, you put the car into Drive and pulled up to his drop off location. Luckily it had taken all day to get back to Belle Reve, so you’d only have to wait for the debrief to be over and it would be around eight at night. You’d finally get a drink with Rick tonight. You smiled to yourself as you pulled the car into your spot. Things would be changing.

#rick flag imagine #rick flag x you #rick flag imagines #rick flag x reader #rick flag #rick flag x female reader #baby driver inspired #dceu fanfiction #rick flag fanfic #rick flag fanfiction #rick flag dc #the suicide squad #getaway car

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goddessofroyalty · 2 years

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I was so intrigued by your Zaun family idea, and I'd love to ask your thoughts on what Silco's pregnancy and birth with Viktor was like. You've already mentioned what Vanco was like with baby Vik, but what about when Silco's body was growing a baby at a young age while they were busy leading a revolution? Obviously Silco isn't the type to let Vander do all the work just cos he's pregnant, but how would their dynamic change during such a high-risk period, esp during the birth itself? Thank you!

So for some reason my brain is really set that Silco gets bad morning sickness with his pregnancies. I don’t really know why seeing there isn’t anything directly about him that would generally be the kind of thing that would indicate it to me. Maybe because it’s kind of funny to picture him being halfway through verbally tearing someone a new one and having to pause while he hurls his guts up before just continuing on.

But I think for the pregnancy itself that was his One Bad Symptom. Yes he did get the general tiredness + aches from the additional weight of a baby on his body but that was all very much in the expected level (at least for his pregnancy with Viktor). So he can just keep doing most things he was doing before and he (possibly unfortunately) learns that being pregnancy seems to magically draw a lot of suspicion off him. So if they need something smuggled past an Enforcer checkpoint or something he always volunteers because what are the Enforcers going to do feel up a pregnant person? Which yes is very stressful to Vander but, hey, it works every time.

Generally I think it’s like the First Big Trial of their relationship and as such is what really solidifies their trust and how they work together. Because they both step up for it and also because of Narrative Symbology it’s also their period they get their first few Wins (whether that’s successfully setting up their first smuggling operation or stealing some enforcer weapons cache or probably a mix of those kinds of things). So while there’s a lot of stress there’s also a lot of excitement and a lot of realising that yeah they think they can do this.

I think Silco would back and forth a lot throughout the pregnancy between “I’m pregnant not incapable I can do the thing” and “I am pregnant with your stupid child do the thing for me Vander”. With a lot of other factors determining exactly when he’s which that Vander never fully figure out.

I do talk a bit about Viktor’s birth in the previous post but basically because this is my verse and I like to explore class differences in things like this, Viktor was breach, absolutely should have been a C-section but was not and it generally was not a good time for Silco. Little more under the cut though (tw for traumatic birth stuff).

Funnily enough though I don’t think Silco was that nervous about the birth before/during the early part of labor - he’s lived a rough life he figures he can handle it and is kind of over the pregnancy generally so will be glad for it to be over. It’s when the midwife advices him that he might want to brace himself because this is probably going to hurt a bit that the panic and the this is how I die is it? kicks in.

I don’t actually think Vander was there for especially Viktor’s birth (father’s being there for the birth is a VERY modern idea (like 1980s modern) and I think it’s maybe maybe starting to come in when Viktor and Jayce are expecting) but I do see Silco getting to a point by possibly Mylo’s birth where he just makes Vander stay with him so Vander can see what he has to do for their kid. But for Viktor’s birth Vander is probably near enough to hear Silco’s screams at it, so he does have some idea that it’s not a good time for Silco. Plus he knows Silco and knows Silco has a pretty high pain tolerance, so the fact that SIlco basically stays lying in bed in shock for two days after also tells him that it wasn’t good. So he takes a lot of the baby-care for the first couple of days (other than feeding obviously) while Silco recovers a little.

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honeyhan-123 · 4 years

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The Monster In Plain Sight

Summary: Steve’s been slowly biding his time, playing the role of the perfect Captain America, but now he’s sick of playing and he’s going to take what he wants.

Warnings: Non-con, Dark! Steve, Steve is a serial rapist, somnophilia, forced exhibitionism, breeding kink, use of the word Daddy. If any of these makes you uncomfortable please do not read.

Word Count: 2.1k

AN: Ooop, I can’t believe I’m actually posting for the first time in nearly three months. Please be gentle <3

Also I would like to thank everyone on the dark group chat for encouraging me to keep on going with this idea. It didn’t quite turn out as dark as I thought it would but you guys gave me the incentive to keep on going so thank you <3

My Masterlist

He was hard. Achingly hard. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt like this, this desperate for release but he knew he had to take his time. He had to relish in every single second he could get. He doubted he would get another chance and so he had to make this one count.

The sleeping pills he had slipped into your wine at dinner were obviously working as you barely twitched as he slid your bedroom door open. It had almost been too easy to get his way. All he had to do was move in next door and play his usual role. No one would ever suspect The Captain America of the sinful acts that he was about to do, that he had done numerous times.

But even as he watched you sleep, he knew something about this time was different. He wasn’t quite sure what it was. Maybe it was because unlike his usual victims he had actually made contact with you. He had never been so bold before. Usually there was always a camera lens separating him from his victims. But not this time. Not with you.

He slithered over to the vanity opposite your bed, setting up his tripod with hasty fingers. He double checked the view point, making sure that the entire bed was in frame. He knew he wouldn’t forget a moment of what was about to happen but still, he wanted the momentos. The physical reminders. He pulled the sheets back from your unconscious body and relished in the way your nipples hardened at once as they met the cool night air.

It was only at times like this when he could stop acting. When he could truly be himself. For these brief hours he could be who he was, not who the world thought him to be.

He slid one hand up underneath the silk nighty you wore and cupped your tit as his other hand dipped into his already open pants. It was a relief to feel the cool breeze on his hot pulsating length and even better when he grabbed one of your hands and wrapped your fingers around it. Slowly he moved your hand up and down, a low groan tumbling from his lips. Your dainty fingers felt amazing wrapped around him, far better than his own, but he longed for more.

With a final tweak of your nipples, he let his hand slide town along your stomach and towards the lace that covered your mound. He cupped it through the scanty material, pushing the fabric into your lips as he felt you up. He couldn’t wait to be inside you, to have you wrapped around him like a vice.

Getting you out of the nighty without jostling your body too much was a little difficult. Perhaps he should have cut it open, that would have fitted better with his plan should you awake. Ridding you of your panties was far easier and the sight that met him was beautiful.

Sure he had camped out on your fire escape multiple times, watching as you dressed or prepared for a shower. But even then you had always been quick to recover yourself, as if you knew he was outside, watching with a hand wrapped around himself. Now however, he had you exactly as he wanted and he could take as long as he needed.

Whipping out his phone, he made sure to capture all your best angles. He wanted your body to be immortalised forever so desperately that he even risked turning the flash on. He didn’t want to miss a single curve. When he felt as though he had enough pictures to last a lifetime, he moved onto stage two and trailed a hand up your calf.

He kept his touch light for the most part until he reached in between your thighs. Steve couldn’t help the guttural sound that came out of his mouth as he parted your thighs, showing off the wetness that drenched your pussy lips. He had barely touched you and yet you were practically soaking the sheets. You must need it bad and who was he to refuse a woman in need?

He wondered briefly what was going through your mind as he played with your slick. Were you dreaming of him? Of him doing these things to you? Of him making your body feel this way?

He sure hoped so.

He wanted you to know it was him. That he had crept in here after dark and filmed himself while he took you however he saw fit.

Deep down he knew he could never allow that to happen. That you could never know. It would be a PR nightmare and his days of taking whatever he wanted would be over. The only reconciliation in his mind was that if everything went according to plan, maybe this wouldn’t have to be a one off like all the others. Maybe he would purposely wake you up? He could make it seem like whoever had done those depraved things to your body had got away and it would only be natural that you would seek comfort with him, your supposed hero.

A melodic whimper filled his ears as he swirled a finger around your bundle of nerves, pulling him back into the moment. Even unconscious you were so reactive. So desperate. His nimble fingers faced no resistance as he pushed inside, swirling them along your inner walls.

Steve doubted that you needed any more work up before he satisfied himself. You were just that needy. So without a moment's hesitation, he pulled his fingers from you and licked them clean.

You tasted so sweet, just like he knew you would. A part of him wanted to bury his face between your thighs and stay like that forever but the aching in his cock reminded him of why he was really here. He needed to fuck.

It had been far too long since his last time, a month, maybe more. He had spent so much time following your every step that he hadn’t gotten the chance to find anyone to satiate his needs. Plus, the last time he had it had been a little disappointing if he was being honest with himself. He had cummed, multiple times but instead of the usual calmness and serenity that filled him after a session, he just felt hollow and empty.

He had known it was because she wasn’t you. Her pleas for him to stop were wrong, far too shrill for your sweet voice. He ached to hear you plead with him to stop, to hear to cry out for help. His gut twisted in the best way just imagining it but he would have to content himself with just your body tonight.

He crawled onto the bed, spreading your thighs with his hips as he lined himself up at your entrance. He paused, just briefly to look over at the camera, giving his future self a devious smirk before casting his eyes back to your face. He didn’t want to miss any of your body’s reactions to him.

He felt like he was coming home as he slid inside, forcing his entire length into your tight channel. Your warm velvet walls gripping him like a vice. It was nice. So nice that he just wanted to stay here, his cock buried deep inside of you for all of time.

‘Fuck baby, you’re griping me so tight.’ He couldn’t help the words as they fell from his lips and he hoped that you would register them, at least subconsciously.

Without any more hesitation he pulled back out, leaving just the tip before slamming all the way back home. Perhaps he wasn’t being as careful as he should have due to the circumstances but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. He just wanted to mark you as his and if you felt him in the morning, even better.

His pace was punishing as he thrusted his hips wildly, his hands groping both your tits. He toyed with the pert buds as your walls fluttered around him, a soft and delicate moan falling from your lips. The sound made him grateful he had invested in the extra strength microphone for the camera. He didn’t want to miss a thing.

‘You’re just so desperate aren’t you baby? You just need it so bad. Don’t worry baby, I’m gonna give it to you, just how you want it.’ He pushed your legs up, over his shoulders as he pushed even deeper inside of you. He could see the faint bulge of himself inside of you with every thrust and he imagined it going straight into your womb. The idea of his seed taking root inside of you did things to Steve that he had never known possible and suddenly he wanted it. He wanted it all.

He had always made sure to pull out because any child would be able to be traced back to him but the idea of you, round and full with his child… It was too good a vision to pass up.

His cock throbbed in need. The need to feel your velvety walls squeeze him, the need to fill you to the brim. His hand dropped down to where your bodies were connected, finding your little bud with ease. He swirled his finger in your slick and relished in the corresponding moan that came out of your lips.

‘C’mon baby, I know you wanna cum for me. I know you wanna be a good girl for me.’ His voice was throaty as he whispered into your ear, his ministrations on your clit never ceasing. He felt the familiar squeeze of velvety walls and he knew you were close.

‘That’s it baby, be a good girl for Daddy. Cum for me baby. Cum on Daddy’s big thick cock.’ He knew his words had taken affect as almost immediately he felt the pulsating of your walls, gripping him tight as you came. The sound of your pleasure was almost drowned out by his own low groan. ‘Fuck baby, milking me so tight. Fuck, I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum inside you, gonna fill you with my seed. You want that don’t you? You need it.’

Steve could barely control himself as he felt his balls pull up, his seed spilling inside of you in hot spurts. He allowed your legs to fall down his shoulders as he collapsed on top of you, trying to catch his breath.

‘Fuck baby, that was so good, so fucking good.’ His words were slurred, his heart still racing inside his chest. He felt the familiar pull in his gut as he started to harden again and he was about to start taking you again when he heard a soft mumble get caught in your throat.

He froze, still completely encased in you, unsure of what to do. If you opened your eyes you would know immediately what had happened and he probably wouldn’t get a second chance without resorting to drastic measures.

A moment passed, and then two and your eyes still remained firmly shut and Steve let out a sigh of relief. Perhaps he shouldn’t go for round two right now. There was always tomorrow night, and the next night and the next. He could hold back for now.

Slowly he pulled his aching cock from you, watching in awe as a little of his cum seeped from your swollen lips. He gently scooped it up before pushing his fingers back inside. He didn’t want a drop to go to waste.

He pulled the camera off the tripod and carried back to the bed, giving your body a loving once over with the lens before putting himself back into frame as he knelt by your head. ‘Y/N L/N, twenty-first of September. Rating, ten out of ten. I will be coming back for seconds.’ With one last pan down your body, focussing on your cum soaked lips, he started getting redressed. He hated to leave you, but he knew he must. You couldn’t know that it was him doing these sinful acts with you, not if he wanted more.

He grabbed the notebook on your bedside table and turning to a new page he began to write with his non-dominant hand.

Thank you so much for last night baby. I can’t wait to see you again.

He placed the note on your pillow and pushed his lips against yours, sweeping his tongue around your entire mouth and drinking in your taste. It was with extreme regret that he left, but he knew he would be seeing you in a couple of hours. He would make sure he was the first person to see you in the morning. He would hold you in his arms and comfort you as you asked him for help, and he would give it to you.

And so much more.

Tags will be added in a reblog

Part Two

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

Thanks for reading <3

#steve rogers #dark Steve #steve rogers x reader #captain america #marvel #dark!Steve #dark! captain america #non-con #somnophilia

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ironhusband · 3 years

Note

🥺🥺 ironhusbands + your card declines and the person behind you offers to pay ??

France, I can't believe you literally read my mind, this is exactly what I wanted to write.

~~~

Tony had a bad week. Well, a bad month, really, coming up to a bad year. Maybe even a bad life. But that would be too dramatic even for him.

On the first day of Christmas, he told his dad he didn't want to make weapons when he takes over the company. On the second day of Christmas, his dad told him he was out of the will. On the third day of Christmas, his parents left. On the fourth day of Christmas, the police knocked on his door.

On the seventh day of Christmas, his card got declined at the grocery store.

"Run it through again," Tony pleaded. Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry, he chanted in his mind, hoping it will keep the tears at bay. Good 'ol dad, Tony thought, not even giving him a week to mourn before he completely cuts him off. If you cry now, he wins.

"Sir, I already ran it through five times," the cashier said apologetically.

Tony looked down at what he was buying. It was nothing major; shaving cream, milk, pasta. He didn't want to risk it in cause, well, this happened, but he thought he would still have some money left. That he would have something left. Apparently not.

"I..." he should leave. Beg Obie for some money maybe and come back. Get a job. Maybe he could sell DUM-E or patent JARVIS. That would take time. He never thought he'd be seriously considering dumpster diving until now.

"I got it," someone behind him said.

Tony turned around. As far as heroes go, he pretty much looked the part. Around his age, very good looking, with a charming smile, a confident stand, and warm, soft eyes. Too bad Tony didn't need a knight in shining armor.

The humiliation stung and stubbornly, Tony turned to the cashier. "No, I got it. Run it through again."

The smile vanished. "You got nothing, man," the man rolled his eyes, "just let me pay."

Tony didn't look at him, "you're not going to pay."

"Am too."

"Am not!"

"Am too!"

"Sirs," the cashier interrupted, "you're holding up the line."

Tony glanced back at the people behind him, ranging from annoyed to symaphtic. They were whispering between themselves. Maybe talking about how this crazy guy looked a lot like Tony Stark.

Tony considered his options. Letting this guy pay might hurt his pride, but it will mean he will get out of here faster than someone can recognize him. Judging by the look in the guy's eye, he managed to stand right if front of someone as headstrong as him. He wouldn't give up without a fight. And plus, oh yeah, he would eat.

"Fine," Tony grumbled.

The guy grinned winningly and turned to pay for Tony's three items. Tony took them, quickly thanking the guy, and exiting the store as soon as possible.

Luckily for him, the other guy seemed to be competing for athlete of the year, being surprisingly speedy for a man shorter than even Tony.

"Hey, do you have anywhere to stay?"

Tony jumped at the sound of the guy creeping behind him and let out a frustrated sound when he recognized him, "what, is it national pity day? I don't need your help."

"Kinda seemed like you did," asshole pointed out.

"You don't know me."

"My question seems to be a good way to get around to it."

After a beat, Tony said, if only to make that guy get off his back, "yes, I do." He wasn't kicked out of the manor. Yet.

"Where?"

"Manhattan."

The guy's eyebrows raised, "you can't afford to pay for pasta, but you can to live in Manhattan?"

Tony glared at him, "as I said, you don't know me."

The man stopped him by putting a hand on his shoulder. Tony didn't want to make a scene by shaking him off. "Most people are nicer to their savior."

"You do this a lot?" Tony sneered, "bet you just wait for people's cards to decline so you can be the hero. What did you even buy, anyway?"

The man offered him some gum, "want some?"

Tony rolled his eyes, "of course that's what you bought."

He shrugged, "didn't have enough cash for more than gum. And your things."

Guilt wretched in Tony's gut. He didn't want this guy to pay, and now he skipped buying his groceries. Great going, Tony. Now his patheticness was affecting others. "You shouldn't have-"

"Let me drive you home," the guy cut him off, "swear if you see my car, you won't think I'm some hero who gave up his lunch or whatever you're thinking."

Even though this was the start of a very special episode, Tony asked, "would you leave me alone, then?"

The guy nodded.

"Fine."

~~~

The guy's name was Rhodey, and apparently he did what he did because his mother was some kind of nagging moral compass in his mind. Tony tried not to think of his mom - he knew if he did he would cry in front of this stranger.

Rhodey actually wasn't as talkative as Tony expected, but he did ask question after question, until Tony eventually gave up and told him, that yes, he did graduate high school, no, he already finished college, yes, he was some kind of genius, and his name was Tony. Rhodey, apparently, also got into MIT young, graduating last year, and he was working at NASA GISS now. Tony told him he was unemployed, but he was sure it wasn't for long. That would at least relax this guy.

When Rhodey pulled up at the manor, he gaped, "you're the Stark kid."

"The one and only," Tony said bitterly. He was only ever an only child, after all. He wondered if his siblings would help them out if he had them.

"Didn't inherit the fortune?"

Tony grit his teeth and didn't answer, "thanks for the ride, Rhodey."

"No problem," he said, recovering rather quickly from the shock, "check their sock drawers. Rich people have weird ass sock drawers."

Tony snorted, shutting the door of the car behind him.

#ironhusbands #rhodeytony #james rhodes #tony stark #rhodey #James rhodey rhodes #asks #druwrites #iron husbands #tonyrhodey #howard stark's a+ parenting

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unhealthyfanobsession · 3 years

Text

Theory: Koschei kidnaps Nesta. Cassian, Azriel, and Gwyn set out to save her.

For the longest time I thought Koschei might take Elain and Azriel and Gwyn would go save her, but I’ve pivoted because I was going back through that scene with Merrill that I refuse to believe is insignificant and I gotta say some things.

1. Merrill seems to HATE Nesta for seemingly no reason other than this very little book situation. Her first greeting, I think, is telling.

Nesta has been called a thief before for what she took from the cauldron. So this language is very interesting.

2. She knows a lot about Nesta, but also about her POWER and what she has done.

So descriptive, almost like whoever whispered to her said it in excruciating detail. Admiring perhaps, covetous definitely.

3. I’ve seen this theory before that “the wind” = Koschei and I think this is true, which makes Merrill saying THIS a punch in the gut.

It’s almost a warning. That Nesta CANNOT do as she pleases, that there are forces at work set to knock her off that high horse. That Nesta’s future is not her own.

This is a small scene, but Gwyn’s reactions and Nesta’s utter dismissal plus the “common enemy” line REALLY puts me fully on team Koschei is going to kidnap Nesta in the next book.

I thought for a long time that it’d be too important of a role for someone who wasn’t a main love interest in the book, but Sarah never really dives into the villains so I’m actually taking that back. I think Nesta gets scooped, Cassian and Azriel both set out to save her because Rhys is a father now plus the bargain hasn’t been dealt with so he and Feyre can’t risk it....

And Gwyn steps up and says hey fuckers that’s my sister and I’m a Carynthian warrior too don’t you DARE think I am not coming with you.

Things that are beautiful about this:

Karma @ Cassian for making Gwyn and Azriel watch his unbelievable sexual tension with Nesta for months

Azriel discovering a mating bond while Cassian is going out of his mind potentially losing one

Valkyrie sisters. Period.

Actual stakes that make sense

Gwyn being presented with her sister’s sword. (Not Ataraxia, Cassian carries that so he can lay it at Nesta’s feet upon their reunion) but the smaller regular sword she Made. It being trusted to her to save its Maker. The sword probably talks to her. Maybe Nesta can communicate with her through it? Give her inside info? That’d be dope.

Gwyn’s library knowledge becoming invaluable, showing her that healing doesn’t have to mean wasting time or giving anything up

Gwyn is part river nymph so maybe she has some sort of a connection with Koschei’s lake.

Gwyn journeying out into the world for love

Gwyn and Azriel no doubt experiencing intense emotions together and then Cassian just barges in and Az is like pls get fucked I’m trying to heal my trauma here

Azriel POV internally rolling his eyes as he has to comfort both Gwyn and Cassian about Nesta when he already knows she probably has the fucking shadow lord of death eating out of the palm of her hand.

Cassian being jealous that Az loves someone more than him

Them showing up to save Nesta only to find Koschei is trying to make her his dark queen as everyone does and then Cassian rolls up with Ataraxia and she’s like ugh FINALLY (Azriel is big I told you so energy in this scene).

Nesta almost kills Koschei but Gwyn knocks her out cold because she sees a trap of some sort and then SHE kills him with that Made sword.

Once Nesta wakes up, Gwyn looks her dead in the eye and says “now we’re even”

Nesta saying “ok. Are we all going to ignore your mating bond for a year like I did or is this a thing?”

Azriel smirking, slipping his hand into Gwyn’s and saying “ it was never a secret.”

#nessian #nesta archeron #gwynriel #azwyn #acosf #azriel #gwyneth berdara #gwyn #a court of silver flames #koschei #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #cassian #nesta and cassian #nestaxcassian #sarah j maas

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wizkiddx · 3 years

Text

unusable faces

i have exams hence why i needed to write something exceptionally cringe :)

PSA: this is completely inspired from one of my fave writers own blurb @blissfulparker --> completely recommend u go read hers its much better than anything i could ever write!!!! (and just her whole account) = link

Summary: pure exhaustion and mutual pining, Tom Holland x actress!reader

^(just thought this was cute, doesn't really fit aha but full credit to op!!)

A scheduling nightmare would be putting it lightly. Perhaps almost unavoidable but that didn’t make it any less of a hellish form a torture. Harry had very helpfully said it actually was a form of torture, that is sleep deprivation. Y/n loved her job - it was all she’d ever really wanted - yet that thought was quickly becoming not enough to get her through the day. Not when it felt like an interrogation tactic used by the CIA.

To give a quick timeline of the past few days may give a little context:

Thursday - filming the fight scene all day plus an evening-turned-half-the-night-shoot due to some technically difficulties delaying the process.

Friday - flying to New York while doing read throughs of scenes for the next few days; followed immediately by getting glammed and filming the tonight show with Fallon; then a dash across town to the late late show with James Corden; then straight back on a flight to Atlanta that landed at stupid o’clock in the morning

Saturday - a full day of shooting in a mock grand central station set

The press trip to NY had been unplanned… to say the least. But the star of their studios other new release had taken ill - meaning they had slots booked on some of the biggest talk shows in America that would just be abandoned (angering the shows bookers too). It was a waste of perfectly good promo time and since the studio had their two other stars together doing a block of reshoots - it wasn’t a conversation. Much more a call demanding the two of them to be on the plane.

Normally this wouldn’t be such an unmanageable ask either, except the reshoot block was really rather time pressured. You see, the promo tour wasn’t far from beginning meaning they really needed the final film in the can. So really it was a bit of a mess. Just to free up that single day the two were in New York the whole schedule had had to be rejigged - in doing so they’d lost a rare day off too. It was just typical.

The joys of success hey?

Well, that’s at least what Y/n was making herself think whilst her incredibly talented SFX artist was in the process of crafting a deep wound onto her upper arm. The reason why she would be ‘dripping with blood’ whilst at a train station was beyond Y/n to be honest - she hadn’t been allowed to read a lot of the script so even now as filming was drawing to a close, the story arc of the movie she was headlining was still a little ‘fuzzy’.

“So I watched your ‘spill your guts’ thing on YouTube” Ellie giggled whilst reaching over for more prosthetic putty- a technical term apparently

“I’m glad one of us enjoyed the experience” Y/n replied with a sigh, rolling her eyes at the mischievous smirk on her face - no doubt Ellie took great joy out of seeing her suffer through eating a thousand year old egg. Which Y/n swore the taste of was still in her mouth… and it seemed as though it’d never leave.

“Oh don’t worry darling I did too” Nelli called over from the next chair along, where she was doing Tom’s makeup for the day of shoots. “Between that and the animals on Fallon, you made a hell of a lot of people laugh last night” Tom’s artist was referencing the fact one of Jimmys other guests was a zookeeper, so at the end of the interview he had you and Tom join in trying not to scream at the snakes and spiders.

“You mean laugh at us?”

“Well of course darling!” Nelli exclaimed back in an overdramatic bronx accent making all three of the women burst out laughing, Ellie’s unceremonious snorts echoing through the trailer only egged them all on more.

Tom in response, who had otherwise been absent from conversation for the majority of the morning, exclaimed a curse and jumped up in his chair. While you and Ellie collected yourself, Nelli apologised to him.

“Oh sorry love, I’m interrupting your snooze with my uncontrollable comedic gift” She spoke sweetly, even if still taking the moment to flaunt to the other women, as she squeezed his shoulder compassionately.

“No no” Tom waved off her apology, attempting to rub his eye before Nelli swatted his arm away - a stern look for the risk of ruining all her hard work she’d put into making his face look half presentable.

“I’m impressed you can sleep while they poke you with all these er instruments” Y/n added in, having only just realised Tom had been in a light sleep for god knows how long they’d been in that chair. It did seem a bit unlikely, being able to fall asleep as you were dabbed, prodded and brushed.

“Maybe you should try though Y/n… your purple eye bags are proving a struggle even for me” Ellie quipped back, now it was Y/n’s turn to give the stern look. Tom took the explain though, shutting her off from whatever kindly meant insult she was about to throw back at her friend.

“No normally never, I just….” He was cut off by an ear splitting yawn, appearing almost powerful enough to crack his jaw - which would be a disaster, for no one should ruin such a beautiful and sharp jaw line. “…uh-sorry. I just think I ended up taking my NyQuil and DayQuil the wrong way round in the madness of yesterday.” Only Tom, the poor kid often seemed to lacking in any form of common sense - even if those closest to him knew just how intellectual and passionate he could be about the right topic. Affectionately, Nelli scalded his idiocy by jokingly swatting his head with a little tut.

“I can’t believe your still standing then! I’m barely alive and I don’t have any sedatives in my system.” It was true, Y/n was at that stage where every part of her body felt ridiculously heavy… eyes included … eyes especially.

“But I did sleep on the jet back while your stupid self was studying the script!” Tom replied with a pretty inarguable point - at the time he knew her actions were stupid; when their flight took off at 11 PM he was certain that the most valuable asset to his ability to act in the reshoots today would be sleep - rather than character development. And he’d tried to convince Y/n that briefly, but gave up. She was bloody stubborn when she wanted to be.

“Stop competing about who has it worse cos I think it’s me and Nell”Ellie announced - making Nelli agree empathically with her coworker, nodding her head as she looked first to Y/n in her chair then back at Tom.

“Yeh because we have to deal with your unusable faces!!”

After much sarcasm thrown back and fourth, the trailer slowly ebbed it’s way back into serenity and peace as both artists focused on their work. Once Nelli was done she excused herself, Tom staying in the chair in favour of studying (more like staring blankly) at the dialogue for this mornings scenes. His pretence didn’t last long though and while Ellie was busy adding the final touches of fake blood to the now almost completely believable gash that she’d crafted on Y/n’s arm - Y/n had her attention focused the opposite way.

At poor little Tom. He looked so childlike, his slightly puffy eyes looked as if they had weights tied to them - they way he was having fight against gravity to flutter his eyes open, before loosing the next second only for the process to repeat as they dragged downwards. The broad muscles of his neck occasionally seemed to occasionally let up a little, letting his head tilt slowly at first until it gathered enough momentum to throw him off balance. The then sudden movement of his head unconsciously pulling itself back in line caused his eyes to bolt open prior to the whole cycle repeating again. All Y/n wanted to do was let him lay down someone, her heart feeling a tug in her chest just seeing him like that.

Ellie proclaimed her completion of the wound, leaning back to admire her work before looking to get an affirming nod from Y/n. Yet instead, she was too preoccupied gazing at the boy slouched across from them. “Someone seems a little distracted.” Ellie smirked, finally garnering Y/n’s attention, only feeling more and more smug watching a light tint appear on the actors cheeks.

“I-well-no… we need to go.” Y/n ignored her words as though nothing had happened, instead rushing off the chair to get Tom out the chair and onto the awaiting set. They had places to be.

|||||||||||||||||||||||||||| (bcos im lazy)

Honestly when the director, Ed, called for lunch break, it was pretty apparent to be purely as a compassionate gesture to Y/n and Tom. Both of them had tried so hard this morning to fully commit, even so they’d both been almost completely useless. Y/n kept missing cues whilst all Tom’s actions and lines where slow, dragged out and at times completely prompted from someone behind the cameras.

So when the lunch break was called there was only one thing on Y/n’s mind and what sandwich was available in the mess tent was not it. Still standing on the set next to her fake holdall bag she looked toward Tom, who was pulling himself up to standing from the train station bench - the pace of his movement making him look more like an old man.

“You good?” His answer was predictable.

“I’m so fucking shattered”

Tom swore he’d never heard anything sweeter come out of Y/n’s pink lips than her next statement.

“C’mon I know somewhere we can lie down.”

Without any sort of thought Tom blindly agreed, nodding as he took her outstretched hand in his. The gesture in itself brought a fresh wave of comfort to his aching limbs and as his feet stumbled to catchup with her slight head start he leant the majority of his weight into their connected hands.

Neither would admit it but they were ‘a thing’… whatever the hell that meant. It was clear as day to everyone and anyone that worked closely to the two but neither of them had ever broached the topic with each other. They’d worked on a few films together over the years; each time they got closer and closer to the point any job without the other simply wasn’t as good. It was scary though, especially for two actors in the prime of their careers. If they weren’t working the same film they’d likely be the opposite side of the world to each other most of the time - quality time together would be few and far between, Really their jobs didn’t suit dating at all, yet it would be perhaps easier if one half of it worked a ‘normal’ job. Something with consistency, a regular structure. A level of dependability that neither Y/n nor Tom could offer to the other.

So it was terrifying, acknowledging the growth in their magnetic attraction to each other. Both were acutely aware that doing that, confronting their feelings, would most likely signal the beginning of the end.

Although none of this stoped Y/n from returning the gesture, tilting her shoulder into Tom’s left side as they took slow steps through and then out the set building. She steered the two past the hair and makeup trailer and round into a store and extra equipment trailer. Tom tilted his head as she climbed the stairs whilst beckoning for him to follow - it didn’t seem like the most obvious choice. Rolling her eyes, Y/n explained.

“It’s where all the blankets and coats and kept for the raining scenes plusssss no one will disturb us in here.” Again Tom was not in a position to disagree, eyes drooping as his shoulders sagged to the floor. Right now he’d take anything.

So he climbed up the stairs and shut the door behind him, just as Y/n flipped the light on. She was right, it was well equipped and with an almost mountainous supply of red blankets that normally the crew and extra would all be wrapped up in after the freezing rain scenes with all the ‘waterfall machines’ as Y/n called them. However it was also um…. It was cosy. “Oh I don’t think I realised how small it was” She chuckled lightly, since now the door was closed her back was pressed up against the far wall of cabinets and still her front was mere millimetres from Tom.

“I…I don’t mind… if-if you don’t?”

“I’m too tired to care” She giggled in response, and Tom , now with her seal of approval, immediately started ransacking the piled shelves for all their worth creating a floor carpeted in the pale red of the blankets, in an attempt to make it more cosy. Joining in, it was almost remarkable how quickly their bodies suddenly agreed to move, with the new promise of rest mere moments away.

Once the trailer was fully drowned, Tom kicked off his costume shoes and threw his jacket off - it haphazardly landing by the doorway. Y/n copied him, leaving her stood up whilst he had the advantaged of already settling down on the floor, her standing and looking down at him.

The space between the two opposing shelving units was not close spacious enough for two people to lie down whilst keeping a respectable level of personal space. Suddenly feeling a wave of awkwardness, Y/n stayed standing, wringing her hands slightly - whilst fairly certain Tom could hear her heart running at 100 mph.

“You er… gonna stay there or?” Tom, contrary to popular belief, wasn’t a complete idiot - he could see she was suddenly self conscious. He got it too - they’d never crossed this boundary of choosing to cuddle into each other. It had happened once of twice accidentally over there 2 years of knowing each other. Both of those times it was completely accidental, falling asleep watching a movie with a safe distance of space b between the two, only to find hours later their bodies almost completely intwined. Tom would be lying if he said that his heart didnt skip a beat when he had awoken to Y/n’s soft and gently breath fanning into his neck. He’d loved it, but understood that was unconsciously breaking down part of the wall they’d both been the constructors of.

For fear of getting hurt.

So now, as Y/n awkwardly bent down and lay on her side, he thought it was imperative to make her feel comfortable. Naturally then, his arm slid round her shoulders and pulled her down toward his chest, releasing a little breath as he felt her relax, her legs slowly wrapping round one of his.

“This okay?” He murmured, now into the crown of her head as she lay half on her side half on his chest. In reply she nodded into him and Tom couldn’t help but grin- unbeknownst to him but Y/n was doing the exact same thing.

The peace lasted all of 3 seconds until she groaned again.

“What?” Tom enquired as she wriggled out his hold and stood up. Instead of replying though she just leant over and flicked the one harsh light bulb off making Tom chuckle as she fumbled her way back onto the padded floor in the darkness, earning a few grunts from both as she accidentally kicked Tom’s thighs or banged her head on one of the now empty shelves. Fumbling her way back into a comfortable position, occasionally cursing when she stubbed her toe- or Tom did when she accidentally elbowed him in the ribs.

“Comfy?” Tom asked a little sarkily as he squeezed her a little more into his side.

“Mhmmmm… I’m gonna sleep for 100 years”

“Yeh me… me too”

And with that they both almost instantly and in complete unison sagged into each other and the blankets - the pent up stress and tension of the past few days ebbing away.

What the pair had neglected to remember was that sleeping for 100 years wasn’t really an option. The whole crew of 50 people, who wanted to restart filming after 45 minutes, had not been told about Y/n’s little hiding place. The pair were so completely safe in their own little cocoon of comfort they were completely oblivious to their teams calling there names more and more frantically. Completely oblivious to the game of hide and seek the situation had descended into, completely oblivious to Harrys natural annoyance as the director asked him for the whereabouts of the two stars - as though Harry was childminder to the pair of them.

It was Nelli who found them first. She’d and Ellie and Tom’s manager had all been recruited by Harry as part of the man hunt. Both girls, having seen first hand the state of the two this morning, were fairly certain they’d both crashed out somewhere. So Nelli, already with a sneaking suspicion, opened the door gently, her figure blocking the majority of the light from seeping through to the dimly lit inside. The sight she was met with had her actually pouting at the cuteness - and yes its a cringey word but also the only one appropriate.

Between bedding down and barely an hour later the two had managed to become impossibly tighter pressed to each other. Y/n’s face was pressed into the crook of Tom’s neck and his arms seemed to have pulled her on-top of him almost completely. Her left leg was hooked under his right, which was then sandwiched by his left too. They both looked so pure and innocent and god did Nelli know they both needed any extra time they could get.

Nelli cared a lot about Tom, she’d been working with him from the beginning, from the child star days to now. She cared about him like her very annoying surrogate son and she wanted to see him looked after. She also so completely wanted the two stars to stop pining after each other. Because frankly it was getting a little frustrating for everyone else.

So she chose to tactically forget about her discovery, sneaking a photo on the sly before silently pulling the door closed and leaving them to their sleep.

#tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland x famous!reader #tom holland x actress!reader #fluff

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achubbydumpling · 3 years

Note

Modern Bucky is fat and Steve’s sugar baby. Steve likes to spoil him. :3

eyy only took me a month and a half to answer 😂😂 I'm sorry, nonnie, but I'm highjacking your idea and using it for today's chubtober prompt :D

(I ended up having a lot more ideas for this than I could actually finish writing in time, so this ends pretty abruptly as soon as Steve and Bucky actually meet)

[unfinished] Oct 3: Masks and Malfunctions

Rating: Mature Words: 1911 Relationship: James “Bucky” Barnes/Steve Rogers Additional Tags: Sugar Daddy AU, Daddy Kink, Belly Kink, Weight Gain, Verbal Humiliation, Stuffing, Corsets, Age Gap

Bucky’s phone chimed and he didn’t even have to look at the screen to know that “Steve” just sent him more than enough money for the costume Bucky wanted. He didn’t actually know if that was the guy’s real name, but he’d been funding Bucky’s lifestyle since the beginning of college and Bucky wasn’t about to fuck that up by questioning the guy’s identity.

If this were a normal Halloween party Bucky would have just bought a random costume at Spirit Halloween, but his kinda boyfriend Jonas (it’s complicated) had invited him as a plus one to an actual masquerade ball. Bucky didn’t even know those kinds of things existed outside of fantasy novels, but right now he was at a high-end clothing store getting an “appropriate” costume.

[Bucky] Thank you, Daddy❤

Bucky texted Steve and then went back to trying on another dress shirt. This one had a looser cut that reminded him of something the male love interest in a period drama would wear or a pirate.

“Wonderful choice,” the store clerk told Bucky when he stepped back from the mirror. Bucky would probably never get used to having someone help him pick out clothes, but the higher-end stores Bucky had been to all offered this type of assistance.

“It drapes very well,” the clerk said with a sneer on his face. Bucky turned back to the mirror. Yes, he had to admit he’d fallen victim to the freshman 15. A small belly was rounding out even against the loose fabric of the shirt, but he didn’t actually feel self-conscious.

Steve had complimented him on every single one of those pounds. Bucky probably wouldn’t even have noticed all the changes to his body if Steve hadn’t been constantly talking about them. Bucky had never put much effort into maintaining his physique, but being hyped up by Steve over the smallest changes of his body made him feel desired and his heart fluttered every time his sugar daddy complimented his thicker thighs and soft belly.

“Any other suggestions?” Bucky asked and the clerk scoffed.

“A corset,” he muttered under his breath, but Bucky’s ears pricked up at the suggestion. His first instinct was to text Steve. Bucky didn’t know why it was important for him to know Steve’s opinion when Bucky was going to the party as someone else’s plus one, but excitement stirred in Bucky’s stomach at what Steve might say.

“Sure, get the corset.” Bucky sent the clerk on their way and then sat down to text Steve. He could feel his belly straining against the shirt buttons now that he was sitting down and he snapped a picture of the way the buttons on the otherwise loose shirt were straining over the thickest part of his belly.

[Bucky] Daddy~ they’re telling me I’m fat

[Bucky] they said I need a corset

[Steve] You will look incredible either way.

Annoyance prickled at the back of Bucky’s neck from the generic compliment.

[Bucky] that’s not what I asked

[Steve] You didn’t ask anything.

Bucky rolled his eyes at how literal Steve could sometimes be, but Bucky also didn’t know how to ask for what he really wanted to hear.

Some of his classmates had teased him for his weight gain and instead of making Bucky feel insecure, the hot shame had shot straight to his dick and he’d had to excuse himself to deal with the problem. Since then Bucky couldn’t stop thinking about Steve telling him those things.

Bucky didn’t even know what the guy looked like, but he’d quickly developed a crush just from texting him. It was actually fun to talk. Bucky couldn’t understand how the guy was single when he seemed like this perfect, interesting and kind guy—and rich on top of all that.

There has to be something wrong with him, but so far Bucky hadn’t been able to figure it out. Not for the first time Bucky wondered who Steve actually was, but his thoughts were interrupted when the clerk came back with three different corsets.

All the same material and color, just different cuts. Bucky’s eyes were immediately drawn to the tiny waist cincher—just tall enough to cover the widest part of his belly. Despite his grumblings the clerk helped Bucky lace up the corset and when he looked in the mirror he couldn’t believe it was him looking back.

His entire body shape seemed different. From the billowing sleeves of the shirt emphasizing his wide shoulders to the waist cincher doing an excellent job of making it look like he still had a waist instead of the soft belly that was hidden underneath. The simple black slacks he was wearing completed his outfit. Simple colors, just black and white.

The mask he had chosen matched as well. A deep midnight black that contrasted with his piercing blue eyes and gold detailing that caught the light when Bucky turned his head. He snapped another picture for Steve, but didn’t wait for his response. Bucky could still hardly believe that a single outfit could be this expensive, but Steve of course had transferred enough money to pay for it. On his way home Bucky finally checked his phone.

[Steve] What did I tell you? Incredible.

[Bucky] better than without the corset?

[Steve] This feels like a set-up.

Bucky groaned at Steve’s response. Of course, Bucky would luck out and get the sugar daddy that won’t humiliate him for gaining fifteen pounds before the semester was even over and wasn’t that a personal revelation. Bucky had never thought of himself as someone who could want something like this, but since gaining weight he had become more aware of his body—and how others perceived it.

[Bucky] it is

He quickly pocketed his phone after sending that text. Bucky immediately regretted it. He’d had a good thing going with Steve. Why risk fucking that up? His phone vibrated multiple times, but Bucky was too worried to check his messages until he got home. As soon as he’d closed the apartment door behind him he fished his phone out of his pocket.

[Steve] What does that mean?

[Steve] If you don’t want to continue this arrangement, you can just tell me.

[Steve] Bucky.

[Steve] Answer me.

[Steve] What do you want me to say? That you’re a spoiled pig? That you’ve gotten fat on your Daddy��s money and need a corset to look good for your little boytoy?

Bucky’s throat went dry as he read Steve’s message. The wave of lust that crashed through him, threw him off balance and he sat down heavily on the bench in the entry way of his apartment. He read the message again. And again. His dick gave an interested twitch. It was embarrassing how much he reacted to Steve’s words.

[Steve] Is that what you want?

[Steve] Don’t leave me on read.

Bucky didn’t know what to say. He typed and retyped the same message again until another one from Steve popped up.

[Steve] ‘Yes’ or ‘no’? It can’t be this hard to type one fucking word.

Bucky couldn’t breathe. Steve had always been kind and considerate, it made Bucky’s heart race to see this side of him.

[Bucky] Yes.

[Steve] Thank you, but we will talk more about this tomorrow.

Bucky’s phone chimed to tell him, he should be on his way now if he wanted to get to the party on time. His mind was still caught up in foggy arousal, his cock tenting his slacks. It’s too much, he wasn’t thinking straight and Steve wasn’t even here—wasn’t even touching him. Just a text and Bucky was a mess.

At least the walk to the subway station helped to clear Bucky’s head and chase away some of the immediate, burning need that had been burning in his guts just a few minutes earlier. It left him frustrated, but slightly more level-headed and in a more appropriate mood to be out in public.

When Bucky met up with Jonas outside the high-rise office building the guy was already wasted. He was surrounded by his office buddies and Bucky was honestly about to turn on his heel and go back home when Jonas called out to him. With all his mates there Jonas treated Bucky like another one of them and Bucky was already over the metaphorical dick-measuring contest that was happening whenever one of these guys opened their mouth.

Once they got inside Bucky split off from the group, Jonas didn’t even seem to notice. So, he explored the venue. The party stretched across multiple floors. The bottom floor was full of rich and wanna-be rich people schmoozing and socializing, barely anyone of them had stuck to the masquerade theme and Bucky kept debating whether he should take off his own mask.

He was much more comfortable on the upper floor. There were less people here and most of them kept to themselves. He felt less out of place when he noticed that most of the people here stuck to the masquerade theme, there were only a few people who’s face wasn’t at least partially hidden behind a mask.

Jonas didn’t even shoot him a quick text to ask where he had disappeared to, so Bucky was more than ready to just find whatever food this place offered, eat for free tonight and make the best of the situation. He didn’t know what he’d expected dating someone his age, but Bucky was done settling for anything and he made a resolution to break up whatever was going on between him and Jonas.

When Bucky finally found the buffet that was standard for these types of events, he couldn’t stop himself from loading up two plates and searching for a quiet, secluded place to eat. At this point it had become a reflex to send Steve a text whenever he sat down to stuff himself.

[Bucky] found the food

He sent a picture with his hand next to the plates to give Steve a sense of how big they were. Some guy’s phone went off as soon as Bucky hit send two tables over and for a moment Bucky wondered if that’s Steve.

He had a commanding presence even sitting down. Bucky could tell he’s a gym buff from his ridiculous shape. His shoulders looked almost double the size of his waist. As well as the large plate of food in front of him. This man needed to fuel his body with all those calories, but Bucky was eating more than him and only planning on getting fatter. Bucky dug in.

His little costume went from fitting perfectly fine to too tight within half a plate of food. The corset was throwing a wrench into Bucky’s plan of stuffing himself. He already felt full before he had even really gotten started. The blond guy from two tables over caught Bucky’s eye again. He was frowning at his phone and looking back up at Bucky.

[Steve] What are you doing here?

[Bucky] what do you mean?

Another phone chime from two tables down. Bucky re-read the text two times before he looked back at the blond guy. No way that’s Steve. That would be too much of a coincidence, right? Bucky sent another message and the guy’s phone went off again. For a moment Bucky contemplates just getting up and walking away, but then Steve was already out of his chair and walking up to Bucky’s table.

#asks #chubby bucky #chubtober 2021 #chubby kink

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plus-size-reader · 3 years

Text

The Right Time

Newt x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 2423 words

Warnings: none

Summary: The reader wants to be a runner but the boys decide she won’t be able to, and Newt doesn’t understand why.

——————————————————————————————————

You couldn’t help but sigh as you watched Minho, heading into the maze for a full day of running and memorizing the ever changing labyrinth that surrounded you all.

More than anything in the world, you wanted to do that.

While most of the gladers were content to stay where they were most comfortable, you didn’t worry about the secrets or dangers that may lay beyond the threshold of the fields you had grown so familiar with.

You wanted to see

From the moment you found out what it was, you wanted to experience what those stone walls kept hidden from you. It seemed like the most exciting job the glade had to offer, and frankly, you were desperate to experience it.

There had to be something there.

Whatever it was, you were sure that it would be more exciting than working in the kitchen, where you currently spent most of your time.

If only it was that easy.

The glade had rules, rules that you couldn’t just go around breaking willy-nilly if you didn’t want to face the consequences. One of those rules was that you had to get permission from the group before doing almost anything.

If you wanted a new job, especially, the rest of the group had to agree to it.

While it may have seemed ridiculous most of the time, that was how you all managed to maintain any semblance of order in this place. If you all just did what you wanted all the time, you wouldn’t have made it this three years.

You wouldn’t have made it a week.

As much as you wanted to just waltz right through those walls when the maze opened up, you couldn’t do it without permission, which you were having quite a hard time getting.

It seemed like it should have been easy.

Everyone here had a job to do and as long as you did the job you were assigned, it would all work out just fine. If you wanted to work somewhere else, you didn't see what the problem was, but clearly you were the only one who was blind to it.

As soon as you mentioned your intentions to Gally over serving breakfast, he’d all but laughed in your face.

“There’s no way that’s gonna happen” he scoffed, making it abundantly clear to you that he thought what you were suggesting was a bad idea. After all, there was a reason you were a cook. Frypan needed help, and you were pretty good at it.

There was no reason to mess with a system that already worked as it was supposed to. You all had your parts to play in this place surviving, and just because you were a little bored over the stove didn’t mean you could just stop playing that part.

...And, evidently, he wasn’t the only one who felt that way.

At first, you decided not to give up hope.

There were plenty of people who got a say in this and just because Gally, the eternal pessimist, didn’t believe in you, that didn’t mean the decision was made. The chances that everyone in the glade felt the same way he did were slim.

Right?

You wanted to believe that but as soon as you brought it up with the others, you realized just how wrong you had been. To the best you could tell, not one of them was willing to take a chance on you.

As far as your dreams were concerned, the meeting they held was more or less a massacre.

The general consensus was that you didn’t have what it took to be a runner and they were very clear about that. Not one of the men present even attempted to spare your feelings, because they had no reason to.

To them, the reason for the refusal was clear as day.

You just weren’t runner material.

“Hey, you get why it isn’t a good idea, don’t you?” Alby hummed, his tone as gentle as it could have been given the circumstances as he did his best to bring the conversation to a close. The best place for you was the kitchen, and as much as he didn’t want to upset you, that was just what it was.

He, and all the others, had to look out for this place and they had to do what was best for it.

You nodded, turning to leave the hut as quickly as you could before anyone actually got a chance to see how upset you were. Rightfully, your feelings were hurt but letting them see how badly was only going to solidify what they were all thinking.

...and it wouldn't change anything.

As much as you appreciated Alby trying to be kind to you over it, his kind smile was hardly enough to actually make you feel better. At the end of the day, you understood exactly what they were trying to say in not so many words.

You weren’t good enough.

You couldn’t do this.

Ideally, you would have stayed until the end of the meeting, to save face if for nothing else but you just couldn’t. The whole room was poison for you now, full to the brim with how little faith they had in you.

That was just what it was.

No matter what you did, you knew that they were all thinking the same thing deep down and didn’t want to admit it.

You weren’t thin, you weren’t overly athletic, and you were a girl.

The only girl.

In that regard, at least Gally’d had the guts to just say what he was thinking to your face without patronizing you. He may have been an asshold about it but he didn’t mince his words in a desperate attempt to pretend like he cared about you.

He just said what he wanted to say.

Though, as you walked into the glade, the sun creeping down behind the walls, you knew that it was partially your fault. All they could do was look at you from the outside, and if that was all they saw, of course it was easy for them to come to the conclusion they had.

You knew better than anyone what you looked like but you also knew that you could do this. All they had to do was give you a chance, and you would be able to prove it. You knew that you could do something to make a difference in this place, all they had to do was let you.

Though, had you been in their position, you weren’t sure you would have stuck your neck out for someone like you either.

The risk was just too great.

If they were right about you, but chose to send you out into the maze anyway, you would have gotten yourself killed, or even worse, you could get Minho killed.

That was hardly a risk you could ask them to take.

They didn’t trust you, and because of that doubt, you weren’t sure you trusted yourself either. At least in the kitchen, you couldn’t get anyone else hurt. It would just be easier for all of them if you kept your mouth shut and did as you were told.

They all seemed to think so.

Well, all but one.

“Where are you going?” he called, his heavy british accent meeting your ears from outside the hut, because of course he would be the one to chase after you.

You had been so focused on getting out of there that you didn’t even realize Newt was standing from the crowd. You were so in your own head, walking with your mind clouded in thought that you hadn't noticed him following you.

Unfortunately for you.

As much as you were sure he wanted to help, to soften the blow just as Alby had, there was nothing he could say that would make it any better.

He had always been kind to you, and if there was one among them who would feel bad for how things had gone down, it was Newt. However, you weren’t sure that even he would be able to do anything that would lift your spirits.

It was what it was.

...But Newt didn’t believe that.

As best you were doing to keep the truth from him, he could tell that you were upset. Though, you were really trying to hide it, a small smile on your face as he approached that was nearly good enough to convince him.

“Just walking, what’s up?” you asked, trying to be as casual as possible, though this was the farthest from casual you’d ever felt.

This morning, you’d had so much hope for this conversation, and now that it was over, you felt like an idiot. How could you have actually believed that they would let you out in the maze? You had no business being there.

All this time you’d spent thinking this was going to work out, days wasted planning just how you would ask, it was all for nothing. Not to mention that every guy in the glade thought you were a joke.

Normally, it wouldn’t have mattered but how were you not supposed to be taken seriously after that? Gally basically said all you were good for was serving dinner.

“I know you better than that” the blonde countered, a small smile on his face as he watched you, followed by a tiny nudge of his elbow.

You clearly weren’t just walking.

There was something going on, and the fact that you would even trying to hide the state you were in from him was enough to upset him. Newt thought you were closer than that, that you could be honest with him.

You sighed, turning to look at him, really look at him for the first time in this whole conversation. He couldn’t understand it, what it was like to have to fight just to have everyone else see you as their equal, which wasn’t even the worst part.

The worst part was that they had never seen you on their level, and what little progress you had made in that regard was all gone now.

You wanted something and it was just out of reach, no one understood that better than he did.

This was hard for you, and even if you were lying about it to him, that wasn’t going to change how much it hurt.

You didn’t have to lie to him.

“I’m sorry, I really am” he started, after a few moments of silence. The sun was going down, meaning as the minutes ticked by, he could see less and less of your face, but that didn’t matter. The moon gave enough of a glow for him to see what all he needed to.

Newt could see the way you tightened your jaw to keep the tears from coming, and how your eyes sparkled in the moonlight.

More than anything though, he could see the way you fiddled with your fingers to busy yourself. You had always done that, even when you first came up in the box.

It was easier than looking him in the eye.

You didn’t want his pity, or his sympathy for what you had done. You just wanted to be alone, or at least, you thought you did.

When you really stopped to consider what that would mean, you knew it was a lie.

As much as you thought crawling into a hole and never leaving would make you feel better, it wouldn’t change anything. It wouldn’t change you, or what you’d done, or what they thought about you. Hiding from it wasn’t going to do anything.

All you could do was keep going, like you’d been doing all this time.

“I voted yes, if that helps” Newt tried, reaching out to take your right hand. Not only did it stop you from fidgeting, but it also startled you just enough. The last thing you’d been expecting was for him to do something like that.

...But it wasn’t as if he had much of a choice. What he was about to say was important, and he didn’t want you to miss it.

“I’ll talk to Minho, maybe you can start training with him and then we can ask again” he offered, giving your hand a small squeeze. It was far from what he wanted to do but it was a start.

Really, he was just shocked that they had all said no to begin with. From where he was sitting, you were just as capable of doing it as any of them, but he’d been voted out. That was just how things worked around here, but it wasn't the end.

Not if he had anything to say about it anyway.

At the very least, you could get a taste of what it would be like. Not to mention that would give him some time to wear down the others toward your cause.

“You don’t have to do that. I get it” you shrugged, sure that even if you were to let him do as he’d offered to, it wouldn't change anything. Still, it did force you to consider something you hadn’t thought about before.

No one had ever done anything like that for you, and you couldn’t help but wonder why he was being so kind. You knew he cared about you but to go that far? It just seemed like a little much. “I want’ to” he smiled again, bumping you with his shoulder in the most endearing way he could, which was really his only way of communicating his fondness to you. It was something you both knew about, but chose to ignore.

It was complicated.

“Thank you-” you hummed, gingerly throwing your arms around his neck without even thinking about it. All things considered, it wasn’t that big of a deal, but it was the closest you two had ever been.

The way you felt for Newt seemed simple enough and as best you could tell, he felt the same way but you weren’t in a position to explore that with him now.

“Don’t mention it” Newt replied, his words nothing more than a small whisper in your ear, before you backed away.

Then, in the most awkward fashion of your life, you said goodbye.

It was the last thing you wanted to do, but this just didn’t seem like the right time for this. Just like maybe this wasn’t the right time for you to go into the maze.

#tmr #the maze runner #newt #tmr newt #tmr x reader #tmr x ps reader #tmr x plus size reader #tmr imagine #the maze runner x reader #the maze runner x ps reader #the maze runner x plus size reader #the maze runner imagine #newt x reader #newt x ps reader #newt x plus size reader #newt imagine

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mymoonagedaydream · 3 years

Note

Hey girl 💞it’s my birthday next week Wednesday and I have no friends 🙃so I’m hoping if you have any time/ and if you want to could you write a fluffy birthday for Reader and Bucky where he is being all nice and shit. I recognise how tragic this sounds lol but it is what it is 😂 hope you have a good week and keep up the amazing stories 💞

103 Candles

Summary: You wouldn’t have minded your birthday quietly slipping by without anyone noticing, but apparently that wasn’t allowed on Bucky’s watch.

Pairing: Bucky x y/n

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Language, much floof as requested

Author’s Note: Happy Birthday for Wednesday anon! I know things seem to be relentlessly shitty at the moment but I really hope you have a lovely day despite all that. And don’t be saying you got no friends cause I’ve just written a whole bloody story for you, cheeky thing. (I moved this one up the queue a little but hey, can’t miss a birthday.)

---

‘Mail call.’

Bucky was already standing inside your room, knocking on the door after he’d opened it. Apparently privacy wasn’t a word in his vocabulary, he’d caught you half-dressed more times than you could count but obviously still hadn’t learned his lesson.

He grinned and held a handful of envelopes out to you.

‘Thanks Buck. Glad to see you’re finally making yourself useful.’

‘Don’t get used to it, cupcake.’

He flopped down onto your bed, lying back with his hands folded under his head. Your gaze unconsciously wandered down to where his t-shirt was riding up slightly, your face starting to heat up before you caught what you were doing and quickly looked away.

In the couple of months you’d been at the compound, no-one had made you feel more welcome than Bucky. He was the first to offer help whenever you needed it and he always made an effort to speak to you when your paths crossed.

Plus neither of you really had friends outside of work, so you spent most evenings alone with him in the living room, doing your very best to educate him on some of the best films of the last fifty years while he fought tooth and nail to stay stuck in his outdated ways.

He still thought Charlie Chaplin was the height of cinema, bless him.

You’d really become attached, but you knew pursuing anything romantic meant risking the loss of your best friend, so you just buried that feeling alongside your weird fascination with bigfoot and your inexplicable attraction to Donny Osmond.

He propped himself up on his elbows. ‘Anything exciting?’

You lazily flicked through the letters, stopping when you came across a bright red envelope, sporting what you instantly recognised to be your sister’s handwriting.

Dropping the rest of the pile, you held it up to Buck. ‘Looks like a birthday card.’

‘Your birthday’s coming up?’

‘Yeah, Wednesday.’

‘For real?’ He excitedly jumped back onto his feet. ‘What are we doing for it? Party?’

‘God no, I can’t think of anything worse.’

His arms folded across his chest as he gave a loud huff, narrowing his eyes at you in suspicion. ‘Is this one of those lady things where you say you don’t want something but actually do?’

‘Definitely not. Could we just keep this between us? Please?’

The smirk that spread across his face sent a bolt of dread coursing through your veins. It was obvious that he was plotting something, but before you could probe any deeper he had his hands up in surrender and was backing out of the room.

‘Whatever you say, weirdo.’

---

Wednesday came around and, as you’d hoped, it felt like just another normal day. You woke up late, shuffled to the kitchen to assemble something resembling a breakfast and encountered no unwelcome surprises on your way.

Your optimism about getting through this day without drawing the attention of your colleagues was steadily growing but, just as you’d finished cooking and were about to escape back to your bedroom, Bucky strolled in looking very fucking pleased with himself.

He was wearing his winter coat, immediately rousing your suspicion because the crazy powerful compound heating made the place like a sauna, and holding something behind his back.

‘Hey! Happy b-’

You shoved your hand over his mouth. ‘I thought we had an agreement.’

He made a face and mumbled something into your palm, making you roll your eyes and reluctantly let go of his face.

‘Yeah, we agreed to keep it between us. I haven’t told anyone else.’ With a proud grin, he pulled a terribly wrapped gift from behind his back. ‘But you never said I couldn’t celebrate.’

You tried your best to look a little peeved, but you really struggled to smother your growing smile.

You just hoped that this was all he had planned.

Taking the present from him, you tried to tear it open, quickly realising that he’d used an ungodly amount of tape to hold the shambles together. You ended up having to ferret out the kitchen scissors just to get into the bloody thing.

Finally cracking it open, you grabbed your gift and held it up, becoming instantly confused.

‘You got me a Christmas sweater?’

‘Yeah. When you have a birthday in December, you gotta accept that you’ll get festive gifts.’ He excitedly reached for the zipper on his coat. ‘You haven’t even seen the best part.’

You couldn’t believe your eyes.

Under his coat, he was wearing a matching sweater.

The only issue was that they obviously didn’t make them in his size, cause it was the tightest piece of clothing you’d ever seen anyone wear, including Nat. He looked like a size two sausage stuffed into a size one casing.

You started laughing so hard you could barely stay standing, his confused frown just sending you further into your spiral.

‘What? What’s so funny?’

You just about managed to form words through your breathless howling. ‘You look like a sex offender.’

‘Is that right?’ He gave you a roguish smirk and pulled your sweater out of your hands. ‘Well let’s see how you look in yours.’

‘I think I should save it for Christmas.’

‘I think you should be more polite about the gift I spent ages picking out for you.’

You quickly spun round, taking off towards the door. You knew you couldn’t outrun him, but you hoped you could at least get back to your bedroom before he caught up, locking him out along with the sweater.

It didn’t work.

You didn’t even make it out of the room before he’d grabbed you and pulled the sweater down over your shoulders, trapping your arms by your sides.

With a reluctant sigh, you adjusted so you were wearing it properly, wincing at the itchy material rubbing against your neck. This thing would definitely give you a rash if you wore it for too long.

‘Ah, you were right.’ Bucky looked you up and down with a smirk before strolling out of the room. ‘They do look terrible.’

You quickly pulled it off before shouting after him. ‘At least mine fits.’

---

The evening came around and you sequestered yourself to your bedroom, hoping to ride out the rest of the day in peace. There’d been no big surprise party and no more weird gifts, so you were feeling pretty good about your chances, when a series of loud thuds sounded against your door.

You reluctantly shuffled over and pulled it open, a little shocked to see Bucky standing there holding two huge pizza boxes. This was the first time he’d ever knocked before entering.

Eh, he probably just couldn’t reach the doorknob with his hands full.

‘What is this?’

‘Birthday dinner.’ He strolled past you with a grin, jumping onto your bed and flinging open the top box. ‘I didn’t get anything for my birthday back in March either, so we can call this a joint party.’

Alright, if the only “party” you had to endure this year was pizza in bed with Bucky, you’d figured you’d gotten off pretty lightly. You might even enjoy it, just as long as he had nothing else hidden behind his back.

Crawling on next to him, you grabbed a slice and started stuffing your face, deciding for some reason to attempt conversation in between mouthfuls.

‘How old are you, anyway?’

‘If you count my time in deepfreeze I’m 103.’

You audibly gasped and inhaled a bit of cheese, immediately choking and coughing your guts up like a fucking idiot. Bucky just chuckled and whacked you hard on the back.

It didn’t help at all, but you appreciated the gesture.

‘I can see why we skipped it,’ you wheezed, ‘you’d need a fucking big cake for 103 candles.’

‘And an even bigger one for 104. I’m looking forward to seeing what you come up with.’

The two of you finished off the pizzas, Bucky wouldn’t admit it but he ate at least one and a half of them, and you threw the empty boxes onto the floor. Slumping back onto your pillows, you quickly had to dive sideways to dodge Bucky’s huge metal shoulder as he flopped next to you, obviously underestimating his own width.

You flicked on the TV. ‘What d’you want to watch?’

‘I’ll let you pick, since it’s your birthday.’

‘For real?’ This was unprecedented, the two of you had never managed to watch a movie without at least thirty minutes of arguing beforehand. ‘Can everyday be my birthday?’

‘Maybe. If you play your cards right.’

You gave him a wide smile and let your head fall onto his shoulder, adjusting yourself a little when his arm came up to circle your shoulders. This had become your usual lazy evening position, but it felt a little different in bed than it did on the couch in the communal living area. More intimate.

It felt a lot different when his arm fell to your waist and pulled you in closer to him, that’d never happened before.

But you definitely weren’t complaining.

You shifted onto your side slightly, slotting your head into the curve of his neck, smiling to yourself at how neatly it fit there. Your knee automatically folded up to rest on his thigh, a bolt of electricity shooting up your spine when Bucky’s free hand moved to start caressing it lightly.

He must’ve felt you twitching, because he let out a gruff chuckle and pressed his lips into your forehead, lingering there for a few seconds before shifting to rub cheek across your temple.

It was rough and stubbly, scratching against your skin like the sweater, but this sensation was different. It felt satisfying and strangely familiar, immediately sending you in to a deep, warm relaxation.

Eventually managing to pluck up some courage, you tilted your head back slightly so you were face-to-face with him.

His gaze was already zeroed in on you.

As soon as your eyes met, he lifted his hand from your knee to cup your face, brushing his thumb gently across your lips.

‘Good birthday?’

‘Yeah. Better than expected.’

He gave a slight smile and leaned towards you, your eyes fluttering closed as his lips pressed softly against yours. Your whole body tensed slightly, you pulled in a sharp, stuttering breath through your nose as your stomach tied itself in a knot.

It took a few seconds, but you eventually managed to compose yourself, relaxing and letting him lead the kiss while you just felt yourself begin to melt under his touch.

Your arms slid around his neck as his wrapped around your waist, the two of you steadily pulling each other closer until you were both on lying your sides with your bodies pressed together, limbs tangled up like electrical cables.

He pulled away slightly, whispering while his forehead was still pressed firmly against yours. ‘I was lying earlier, you looked great in that sweater.’

‘I’m still not gonna wear it.’

‘Fair enough.’

---

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