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fairyhaos · 1 day

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❖ i am all of you // lee jihoon

woozi x gn!reader, 1.7k+ words

tags: requested by @mirxzii, established relationship, producer!woozi, scriptwriter!yn, hurt/comfort

warnings: pet names (babe, darling), food mention

summary: on the days you feel exhausted, lost to the clouds of fear and fatigue, you wonder whether anything in the world will ever be fine again. not to worry, though. because jihoon always finds you, and he brings you home.

Jihoon kind of misses you.

Okay, that's a lie, because he actually misses you a lot, because even though you're right here and you say hello to him in the morning and you eat your meals together and you say “I love you” to him at night, you're still not… here.

You get like this, sometimes, where you're all stuck in your head and he can't get you out. Anything he says doesn't seem to register, not really, because you'll hum in response before drifting away again to somewhere he can't reach.

“Y/N?”

Jihoon knocks on your door, gentle. You emerged from your room to have breakfast, but you've been stuck inside ever since, and, well. It's like he said.

He kind of misses you a lot.

“Jihoon?”

“Are you okay in there?” he asks. “Just checking up on you, babe. I haven't heard from you in a while.”

“I'm okay,” you say back, and even though you're only on the other side of the door, you sound distant. “I'm just tired, that's all.”

He hums, sceptical. “Are you sure? Can I come in?”

“I don't see why not,” you say, and he opens the door and cautiously peers inside.

You’re lying in bed, pillows propped up behind your head, quite literally doing nothing other than staring emptily up at the ceiling. When Jihoon enters the room, you look over in response to the sound and wave at him from the bed looking confused but also very, very exhausted, and something in his heart twists sadly.

He walks over to you, leans over, and presses a hand to your forehead. You look up in confusion, going a little cross-eyed as you try to see his hand on your head.

“What are you doing?”

“Checking for a fever,” Jihoon responds matter-of-factly. He takes his hand away, presses it against his own forehead before feeling yours once again.

“Hey, hey, I'm fine,” you say, waving his hand away. “I'm not sick.”

“Then why are you in bed?” he says. “It's so sunny today, Y/N. Normally, you'd be the one pestering me to get out of bed so we can go on those walks that you love so much. What's wrong, Y/N? Can you please tell me what's wrong?”

You fall silent, looking away.

See, he thinks he kind of knows what's wrong.

Not the exact reason, of course, but he knows that you're getting this tired and withdrawn from him because there's something in your life that's making you overwhelmed. Whether it's a situation that's happened or something you fear will happen in the future, if it scares you enough then you'll end up retreating in this way.

Jihoon knows it's your way of coping when things get too much, but it frustrates him, because all he wants to do is take care of you but you won't let him in.

“Please,” he says. Gently, simply. “Can you tell me what's wrong so that I can help?”

So he asks. He asks, and waits so, so patiently, silently begging you to please let him in.

You slowly shake your head.

“Nothing's wrong,” you say, and then shrug, like everything's fine. “I just need to take a nap.”

“I had to wake you up at noon for breakfast, today,” Jihoon points out, frowning. “And it's four in the afternoon. Why do you need a nap?”

You just shake your head again. “I just do.”

He opens his mouth, ready to refute, but you abruptly pull the covers over yourself and bury your head into your pillow again. A clear sign you want to end the conversation.

“Goodbye, Jihoon,” you say, voice muffled by the sheets, and Jihoon sighs.

“I'll let you know when dinner is ready, okay?” he says, and you make a soft noise in reply. He looks over at you again, before walking out of your room and closing the door.

───────────── ⛅

It’s only thirty minutes later that he knocks on your door again.

He can’t help it. You two aren’t exactly the clingiest couple in the world: what with Jihoon’s work and your busy life, you can’t really afford to be so codependent. There have been days where you barely speak to each other, both absorbed in projects that take up all your time and leave you unable to indulge in the typical cuddly affection that other couples take part in.

This is what happens, he supposes, when a music producer and scriptwriter decide to date. Not that he minds, because he loves you, and he knows you love him too, and neither of you mind the lack of physical touch because often, the knowledge of that love is enough.

Just because you’re not the clingiest doesn’t mean that he likes not spending time with you, though.

Especially when you’re right there.

“Y/N? I’m coming in,” he says, and opens the door before you can answer. You’re lying in exactly the same position that he’d left you in, and you look over as the door opens again with a mildly annoyed expression on your face, as if Jihoon was interrupting your very precious time of doing absolutely nothing.

The mild irritation melts into confusion as you spot the things he’s holding. “Why did you bring your laptop with you?”

“Laptop and chocolate,” Jihoon emphasises, holding up the bag of chocolate coins in his other hand as he pushes the door shut with his elbow. “I’m here to do my work. And give you chocolate. Move over, will you?”

You give him a curious look, but still obediently shuffle over in bed so that he can climb in and sit there beside you, back against the headboard, opening up his laptop and immediately clicking on his emails. He doesn’t look at you, seemingly absorbed in answering whatever is sitting in his inbox, the bag of chocolate plopped onto the covers between you two.

“Jihoon?”

Jihoon hums in response.

“What are you doing?”

He glances at you briefly, and pats your head. “Don’t worry. I’m not here to drag you into doing anything. Just pretend I’m not here, okay?” He goes back to his work, and then adds, “Oh, and eat the chocolate.”

You furrow your brow, mystified by his behaviour. This is… weird. You’ve had episodes like this before, where the foreboding lump in your throat joins forces with the anxiety that sits, ice-cold, in your chest, and you end up with a bone-deep exhaustion that leaves you terrified to do anything at all. Every time, Jihoon seems to understand, leaving you to your own devices to work through the fatigue until you feel better. He might bring you soup, or remind you to brush your teeth, but never anything like this.

The soft click-clacking of his keyboard is quite soothing, you’ll admit, but it’s still not quite enough for you to stop teetering on the edge of this crushing exhaustion and finally sleep.

“Jihoon,” you murmur, looking up at him again. “Jihoon, seriously, what are you doing?”

His fingers stop moving, and he looks over at you once more, before looking at the untouched bag of chocolate coins. Wordlessly, he opens it, unwraps one, and presses it against your lips.

“I’m feeding you chocolate coins,” he says, and something about the deadpan way he says it makes you smile, allowing him to push the chocolate into your mouth. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“No, I can see that,” you say around a mouthful of sticky, warm sweetness. Hm. Eating it makes the weight in your chest feel a little lighter, actually. “I just…”

Jihoon raises an eyebrow at you, but there’s no unkindness in his expression. He unwraps another chocolate for you, and you dutifully eat it, letting the overwhelming sweetness coat your teeth as you melt it down in your mouth, making the most of the taste.

“What are you doing here, though?” you ask, as your boyfriend deposits the metal wrappers on the bedside table next to him. “Babe, if you’re here to take care of me… it’s okay. I’m fine.”

He looks at you again, and smiles. “Silly. I’m not here to look after you.”

Wait, what?

“You can do whatever you need to do,” Jihoon continues, as he goes back to his laptop and starts click-clacking away again. “Rest, sleep, try to turn yourself invisible, whatever. You do you, darling. I’m just here because I want to spend time with you.”

“Jihoon,” you breathe out, touched. You are certain that there are stars in your eyes. “Jihoon, I love you.”

He chuckles, and finishes sending off the email. He jostles you around in bed for a moment, pulling you close until you’re resting against him, and though the position is uncomfortable, you don’t protest.

“I love you too,” he says, patting your head affectionately. “Now, don’t worry about what I’m doing, alright? Just let me spend time with you.”

Jihoon may pretend otherwise, but he really is soft. He gives and he gives and he gives, always, and that’s what he’s doing right now. He’s giving you all of him, under the pretence that he’s doing this for himself but you know him, know him like the other half of your heart, and your chest squeezes at how gentle he is with you, especially now. When you’re at your most vulnerable.

And instead of getting frustrated at your distance, at how far away you were floating from him, he brings your back down to Earth, pretending it’s all for him but you know, you know that he’s bringing you back to safety for you.

Pressed up against him, leaning into his side, you finally let yourself cry, the hot, stinging tears tracing paths down your cheeks. Jihoon doesn’t say anything, and instead pulls you closer, fingers threading through your hair as you cry quietly against him until you tire yourself out fully and there are no tears left for you to cry anymore.

It’s kind of cathartic—freeing, the way you let yourself succumb to the exhaustion, comforted by the knowledge that Jihoon is there beside you as your tears die down, and you lie there beside him, taking deep, shaky breaths, heartbeat finally slowing down.

And at last, you close your eyes and sleep.

fics tags: @jeonginssa @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @bunnyiix @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @zozojella @kawennote09 @a-wandering-stay @abibliolife @doublasting @wonranghaeee @icyminghao @sweet-like-caramel @your-yxnnie @odxrilove @kyeomyun @crackedpumpkin @jeonride @kellesvt @sakufilms @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @starshuas @raevyng @isabellah29 @hrts4hanniehae @mcu-incorrect @dokyeomkyeom @suraandsugar @melodicrabbit

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mrsbuckybarnes1917 · 2 days

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14: CRICKET & BUCKY

Previous chapter < MASTERLIST

Bucky plans your first date, but it doesn't quite go according to plan.

Word count 5.2k

Warnings: first dates, explicit sexual content, Bucky Barnes ... still a warning

It was strange, waking up in a room far away from everyone you knew and loved. It's not that you lived that far from your friends, it's just that it felt like a chasm. But this had been your choice. May made you feel very welcome at the Academy and you got to work with kids who had powers from a young age, helping them to understand their physiology and giving them the opportunity to explore what they were capable of in a controlled environment. Needless to say, you loved it.

Bucky had been very attentive to you, bringing you food and keeping you company, driving you to your physical therapy. You had gotten the impression from Sam that he refused every mission that Tony and Steve asked him to take part in. The other Avengers all visited but they had their own lives and work to attend to, but you saw Bucky every day. As you regained your strength, he accompanied you on your daily walks to maintain some baseline level of fitness. Sometimes you were bold enough to hold his hand while you walked. And he would always leave you with such intimate kisses. To your frustration, they never seemed to progress to anything more than a goodbye and you were beginning to wonder if he would ever want anything more.

One day, the two of you were hanging out in the middle of the day, watching a movie, cuddling on your couch. You'd recovered well and been assessed by the S.H.I.E.L.D. medical teams and deemed fit for any duty you wished to carry out.

Even though you'd been cleared and gone back to work, Bucky insisted on helping you out with everything and frankly, it was grating on your nerves. You were certainly not made of glass and he was treating you like you might break at any second. Luckily for you, Steve was ever the loyal friend, even if he had no idea what he was doing. He descended on your new abode demanding Bucky's participation on a mission which clearly would benefit from his expertise.

“Come on, Bucky. This is important.”

“Then you do it,” Bucky replied sullenly. “I’m staying here with Cricket.”

“Oh for crying out loud, Buck!” you exploded. “Are you shitting me right now?”

Bucky and Steve froze with surprise, both their blue eyes wide and staring at you.

“Just go!” you pointed your hand at the door. “Help Steve.”

A flash of uncertainty and hurt flickered across his face. It disappeared so fast that you wondered if you had imagined it. Bucky shuffled forward to the edge of the couch seat from his place beside you. “Will you be okay?”

“I’m perfectly fine, Bucky.”

“You want me to go?” he asked, quietly, avoiding your gaze.

“Bucky… I want… I need you to understand what I’m not… going to break. I’m okay, Buck.” You sat forwards too and put your hand to his face. “Thank you for taking care of me, but I don’t need that now.”

“You’ve always been the one to take care of me, I just…”

“And I love you for that, Buck. But you need to go, do the things you need to do. Help your friends, your teammates. They need you more than I do right now.”

"Are you trying to get rid of me?" Bucky asked, a playful smirk on his face as he leaned in closer to you.

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the fluttering in your stomach at his proximity. You moved off the couch and slid into Bucky’s lap, your face barely an inch from his. "No, I just think you should go with Steve to work today."

Bucky pouted, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief. "But I'd much rather spend the day with you, darling."

You couldn't help but blush at his words. Bucky had been your best friend for such a long time now but for the first time since you’d confessed your feelings there was a tension in the air, a feeling that something more was brewing beneath the surface.

You cleared your throat, looking over at Steve and trying to push down the butterflies in your stomach. "We both know that it’s time for you to go back to work."

It was cute how uncomfortable it was for Steve, being present for this conversation between you, seeing Bucky flirting so shamelessly with you.

Bucky's smile faltered slightly, but he quickly recovered, his charm back in full force. "Of course, Cricket.”

You shook your head, trying to ignore the way your heart was racing in your chest. "I think it's best if you go with Steve."

Bucky sighed dramatically, but he finally relented. "Fine, fine. I'll go with Steve. But only because you asked so nicely. But I'll be back as soon as I can."

“You promise?”

Bucky's eyes softened as he looked at you, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. "Promise."

You smiled, feeling a rush of warmth in your chest. "I'll be waiting for you."

“When I’m back, maybe I could take you out on a date? A real date?”

Your face broke out in a huge smile. “I’d like that.”

As Bucky leaned in to kiss you goodbye, the world seemed to fade away. His lips were soft and inviting, and his touch sent shivers down your spine. His hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him as if he never wanted to let you go. The kiss wasn’t just a sweet chaste peck on the lips, no, it was deep and passionate, filled with a longing that had been building between the two of you for what felt like an eternity. It was as if all the unspoken words and hidden desires were finally being released in that one moment of connection. And then all of a sudden he was gone, as though looking at you would somehow stop him from leaving. You waved at a grinning Steve who followed Bucky down the corridor. Who knew that all it took for things to move forwards was to get Bucky to leave?

The second you closed the door behind them, everything felt quiet, too quiet. Your space which had felt slightly cramped when Bucky was with you suddenly felt empty and cold without his comforting presence. You retreated to the comfort of your couch, wrapping the throw blanket you had been sharing with Bucky around you, breathing in his scent, the traces of his cologne clung to the soft material. Picking up your phone, you sent him a text.

>>>> Miss you already. Come home soon. xx

His response was almost instantaneous, as though he was holding his phone when you sent the message.

Bucky << Miss you too. Make sure you’re ready for our date when I get back. It’s going to be as special as you. Love you. xx

>>>> Love you too, Bucky.

Bucky texted you every chance he got. He had even tried a video chat, only to have Steve snatch his phone away. You caught the Captain glaring at his friend before giving you an apologetic glance and cutting the call. He apologized with his own message to you later, as had Bucky, calling Steve a few impolite names. As the day of Bucky’s return came closer, he messaged you with a time and date for you to prepare for.

When the day finally arrived, you were a nervous wreck. You called Nat and Wanda, desperately begging for their help in choosing your attire. It didn’t help that they spent two hours bickering over what pair of heels would make you look the sexiest. It was only when you took a swig of wine directly from the bottle, did they take their leave, along with access to the liquor. You spent the next two hours alone waiting for Bucky to arrive. He texted you the moment they landed the quinjet and the progress he was making towards making it to your date.

Bucky >> Just landed, Cricket.

Bucky >> Heading to the shower. Don’t want to turn up without. You wouldn’t like it.

Bucky >> Sam says I should wear a jacket, I’m not sure it fits.

Bucky >> Steve agrees. Jacket is a must. I hope you like it.

Bucky >> Tony said if I drive my bike, he will have Friday lockdown the garage.

>>>> Probably best you didn’t, not sure I’ll be able to get on the bike in what I’m wearing.

Bucky >> What’re you wearing?

>>>> Come over and see for yourself.

Bucky >> Soon darling. Nat’s making me change, she says you’ll like this more.

Bucky >> On my way!

You dropped your phone running to the mirror to touch up your makeup and check your hair. It wouldn’t take Bucky long to drive to your apartment. You had been looking forward to this night for a while now and you knew that you and Bucky would have an amazing time. You slipped out of your robe and into the flared dress that Wanda and Nat had settled on. It fitted you like a glove, highlighting all the right curves. The perfect date night ensemble!

You jumped at a knock on the door. As you went to answer the door, you found yourself in a state of butterflies. You hadn't seen him since he left for the mission and every fiber of your being was eager to reunite with him. He was going to take you out and you decided to look your best. And when you opened the door you were blown away by what you saw on the other side. Bucky was standing there in his finest, looking like the hottest guy you had ever seen; dark jeans, a slim fit black shirt with white dots and his favorite leather jacket. You made a mental note to thank Nat for his wardrobe choices.

“Hi,” you greeted him, breathlessly.

“Hey…” He grinned, taking in your appearance, how beautiful you looked. "Ready?”

You blushed under his gaze, accepting the pink rose and lily bouquet he held out to you, swooning over his old fashioned ways. “Thank you, they’re gorgeous.”

“Not as gorgeous as you.”

“Have you always been so charming?”

“Yeah, you just never noticed.” As he spoke, Bucky moved closer and closer towards you. He was only inches away from your face, when he asked, “Ready?”

His body was pressed against yours, his warmth enveloping you in a comforting embrace. Bucky kissed you deeply, his mouth soft yet full, his hands sliding down to wrap around your waist. The taste of his lips was like sweet nectar, intoxicating and addictive. You found yourself melting into his touch, losing yourself in the sensation of being wanted and loved. As the kiss continued, neither of you wanted it to end. It was a moment of pure bliss, a moment where time stood still and all that mattered was the love that you shared. Bucky held you close, his embrace strong and reassuring. It was as if the kiss had been building up inside both of you for a long time, neither one wanting to let it end.

As Bucky pulled away eventually and you laughed, throwing hands up in celebration. “I win!”

Bucky chortled at your response. “Cricket, I don't think you understand. I win every time you look at me, every time you smile, every day that you're beside me is the best day. There will never be a time where you aren’t the most perfect thing in my life. You’re my everything.”

How could you not kiss him again after hearing those words? So you did, desperately, the flowers crushed between your bodies, as yours throbbed with the passion you felt for him in that moment. His arms wrapped around your back, pulling you into him, your mouths pressed together as his energy met yours. The feeling of you against him sent a wave of heat through his body. He held you tight against him, unable to resist the temptation. Your lips were soft and he craved them, the two of you caught up in the long awaited moment.

Taking the lead, you tugged at the collars of his jacket, drawing him into your apartment and fumbled to close the door. Bucky tapped it shut with his foot, lifting you into his arms and letting you drape your legs around his waist. Your arms snaked around his neck, still clutching the floral arrangement. With the door closed, he was far less restrained, his mouth left yours, tracing your neck as his lips played with your soft skin. His hands caressed your back softly, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

“Bucky,” you moaned.

He smiled at you as your fingers twisted into his hair. He couldn't help but get lost in you so he leaned forwards, his mouth searching for yours. It took only a second for his hand to start exploring your body, letting his fingers roam freely to feel every inch of your soft and supple skin. They trailed down your back and his voice was a husky whisper as he broke from the kiss. “God, I've missed you.”

“I missed you too. Forget what I said, don't go away again.”

“Then let's make up for all the time we lost. I'm never leaving you again.”

“Bedroom, now,” you commanded.

Sergeant Barnes was good at following orders. He marched you across the apartment, hands cupping your ass to hold you up against him, taking the happy opportunity to knead the muscle. He stopped temporarily for you to deposit your now crooked flowers on the dresser before continuing to the bed. He laid you down, getting greedy with the kisses he was giving you. It felt like he wanted to devour all of you. His hand slid up your leg until it reached your hip, hot and cold fingers grazing the bare skin under your dress. His hands stopped temporarily at your hip, just for a moment before they slid up even further under the straps of your panties. His touch made goosebumps erupt on your thighs.

Bucky noticed your reaction and chuckled. He knew exactly how hard his fingers were pressing into you and how you were responding with shivers. He wanted to keep going and his flesh hand came back down to your thigh, rubbing closer and closer to your core. You pushed his jacket off his shoulders, letting it slip off his arms and onto the floor, discarded. Bucky approved of the move with a grin, loving to see you take the lead. His fingers were slowly approaching his final destination now and he wanted to get there soon. He needed it.

You marveled at your body's response to his ministrations. Every inch of you felt like it was on fire, everywhere he touched blazed with excitement and anticipation.

"Everything go okay with your mission?" you asked, making small talk as Bucky pushed his hands between your legs. You felt yourself tense repeatedly in response.

“Everything went fine... It was rough, being away from you, but got through it knowing I got to be here with you at the end of it.” Bucky's words were barely distinguishable, his voice reduced to a low growl with the excitement and tension building inside him. But he stopped for a moment and looked up at you with a look of pure desire.

"I'm glad you're home," you answered breathily, as you feel his arousal pressed against your abdomen.

Bucky smiled down at you, a hint of mischievousness coming into his eyes as his mouth pulled away from yours and moved down to your neck. His fingers rubbed small circles on the sensitive skin at the top of your thigh and he watched as the skin became flushed just from that small movement. You whimpered softly, holding back your moans.

He watched you closely with every caress and touch, the way you flinched and shivered from his movements, feeling your arousal growing by the second. He felt your breath grow deeper, heavier as the circles made with his fingers got faster and faster. Bucky grinned at your reaction, eager to go further. But he could see you holding back and his face softened, seeing you bite your lip to avoid making any noise. Bucky broke away from your neck for a moment to whisper into your ear.

“I want to hear everything... let yourself go, okay? Let loose, for me?” He knew why you were afraid of expressing your desires and he was going to make damn sure that your first time together would be perfect for both of you.

You nodded, flushing. “I want you Bucky. I missed you so bad. Tell me how much you want me?”

Your words made his heart skip a beat, he suddenly felt anxious, torn between wanting to please you and feeling embarrassed about sounding foolish. “Cricket, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited for this? I don’t want you, darling, I need you. Now…” his eyes darkened dangerously, “tell me how you want me to fuck you.”

“Take off your clothes.” You started unbuttoning his shirt, still kissing him desperately.

He kissed you back eagerly, his mouth moving back in rhythm with your tongue. He pulled away for a brief moment as he helped you unbutton his shirt - his hips still pressed against yours. Then he resumed his kissing as he slipped his arm back under you, pulling you against his bare chest. He pushed the straps off your dress, fumbling with the zipper. But the normally nimble fingered super soldier was having some trouble with the mechanism. As his hands fumbled with the zipper he couldn't help but chuckle. “I'm normally not this bad…” The nerves were starting to set in on his mind and his muscles started to tremble ever so slightly as he realized how close you both are to having each other for the first time. With a frustrated sigh, he gave up on the zip, resuming the exploration of your body through the thin material of your clothing, searching for a weak seam in the dress.

You giggle slightly at his desperation. “Don't you dare rip my dress, Buck,” you cried in warning.

It was almost predatorial, the way he watched you as you made the process easier for him. You rolled slightly in his arms, taking pity on him. It slipped off you like water off a duck’s back and for a moment, all Bucky could do was stare. His eyes drifted down to the curves that were pressed so tightly to his body. He wanted more, he craved it.

As you stood there, feeling the intensity of his gaze on you, a wave of self-consciousness washed over you. His eyes seemed to strip away all your defenses, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable. But at the same time, there was something undeniably thrilling about the way he looked at you, as if he could see right through to your soul.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as you instructed him to take off his pants. His lips curved into a knowing smile, and you couldn't help but return it, appreciating the sight of his flexing abs and the glisten of sweat on his chest. He reached down, hooking his thumbs into his boxers, and you gave him a little helping hand to push them off his hips.

As the fabric fell to the floor, you couldn't tear your eyes away from him. You gasped quietly at the sight of his erect cock and how it matched the magnificence of his body. A work of art, every muscle defined and sculpted, a testament to the serum that coursed through his veins. But it was more than just his physical appearance that drew you to him. There was a raw, primal energy that seemed to radiate from him, a magnetism that pulled you in and left you breathless. And that was all Bucky.

He stepped closer, his bare skin brushing against yours. You could feel the heat of his body, the strength of his arms as he wrapped them around you again. His hands, hot and cold, felt perfect on your waist. His deep voice was just a whisper as his hands ran over your body, sending shivers down your spine.

"I want to touch everything, I want to worship you," he murmured, his eyes filled with desire. His hands continued their downward trajectory, the speed picking up as he grew more and more excited. There is nothing he wanted more than this moment to be perfect for you.

"What do you want me to do to you?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Nothing. I want to take care of you. I want to make you feel amazing. I want to give you everything I have right now," he replied, his lips brushing against yours. His touch was gentle yet firm, his hands exploring every inch of your body with reverence. You could feel the love and desire radiating from him, and it filled you with a sense of warmth and contentment.

"Bucky, I want you to touch me. I want you to see what you do to me”

As his hands slid lower, you felt a surge of anticipation building within you. His touch was electrifying, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You closed your eyes, losing yourself in the sensation of his touch, letting yourself be carried away by the love and passion that flowed between you. And you knew that this was where you belonged.

“Dear God, Cricket. Is this really for me?” he asked, dipping his fingers between your folds, coating them carefully in your arousal.

You whimpered softly as he continued to caress you, exulting in the ecstasy. “All for you.”

“Hey Cricket?” he whispered, huskily in your ear.

“Yeah?”

“Talk to me darling. Tell me how it feels. I want to hear you.” He pushed down on your clit with his thumb, gently rubbing circles over it, working his magic on you.

“Please, Bucky,” you moaned, hips pushing into his fingers. “S’good, but not enough. Want you.”

Bucky chuckled darkly. “Are you sure you’re ready, darling?”

Nodding enthusiastically, you answered. “Yes, want you… inside me. Make me feel good. I need to feel every inch of you inside me.”

“You want me? You want this?” He wrapped his vibranium fingers around his shaft, pumping it up and down with long, firm strokes, right in front of your eyes, taunting you with his cock while teasing your clit.

“Yes.”

Bucky shuffled closer, getting comfortable between your thighs. You spread your legs to straddle his hips, opening your entrance to him. He looked down at you, a look of awe frozen on his features.

“Buck?” you asked after a moment of silence.

“Hmm?” he startled out of his reverie.

“You okay?” you asked, gently.

“Yeah,” he huffed a short laugh. “Sorry, just wondering if this was real or just a dream.”

“Let me show you how real this is.” You put your hands over his, helping him guide his cock towards your entrance. Just before you let him penetrate you, you stopped. “Buck, I… do we need a condom?”

“Nat said you have an IUD.” He frowned, pulling something from his memory. “She made me get some tests, when they came back she said I was good to… fuck you raw. Whatever that means.” Bucky blushed, and you suspected he knew exactly what it meant.

You couldn’t contain the laughter that bubbled inside you. It was good to have friends who looked out for you.

“Does that mean we’re good to go?” he asked.

“Yeah, you’re good to go. Just like this.”

The wetness from between your legs mixing with his as he ran his tip between your folds. He grunted with pleasure as your tight walls pressed against him.

“Oh God Buck, so thick,” you mumbled as he pushed into you slowly, letting you adjust and stretch around him.

Carefully he watched your face for signs of pain, surprised at how well you were doing. “You gonna take all of me, darling?” He threaded his fingers between yours, pushing them up above your head, pinning them to the bed.

You watched as your pussy glided over each and every inch of his thick hard cock. “Deeper, that’s it. Shit Buck, you fill me up so well.”

Bucky felt his whole body tense, willing himself not to blow his load into you after hearing you utter those words. “You like that?” he asked, pushing further until he was buried right inside you.

“Yes, si-” you stopped for a moment, but the flash in Bucky's eyes and the throb of his dick between your legs suggested that he liked it.

“Yes?” he asked, expectantly.

“Yes, Serrrrgeant,” you moaned softly as you spoke, bucking your hips up towards him, pushing that last inch into your stretched out pussy.

“Good girl.” He shuddered as you clenched in response to his words. “So perfect.”

You hummed, happily.

“Come on, Cricket. I want you to be as loud as you like. You have no idea how much I want to hear you. Ever since Italy. Do you know how hard I was when you said those things?” he growled, pushing himself deeper inside you. “How much I wanted to be the one who made you moan that way. I haven’t stopped thinking about that since then.”

You were speechless, panting as his cock filled you up, stretching your walls to their limits.

“God it makes me feel so many things when you look like that. Do you have any idea how perfect you are?”

“Well I have some idea, but no harm in hearing it from someone else.” You winked, regaining enough power of speech to sass back at him

Your cockiness earned you an unexpected thrust, making you gasp loudly.

“Have you any idea how hard it’s been these last few weeks? For me to keep my hands off you?” he rasped, trailing kissing up the side of your neck. “I’m gonna show you.”

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes. Please, show me.”

You sounded better than anything he had imagined. He still couldn’t believe he was the one who was coaxing those pretty sounds out of you. It only spurred him on to drive his hips into you, again and again, faster and faster until he was pounding you into the bed. The neighbors probably wouldn’t be too pleased with the noise your headboard was making against their wall, but you didn’t care at all. He let go of your hands to get a better grip on the bed, to get closer to you until the small hairs on his chest rubbed against your breasts. Every vein on his ridged cock caressed your walls as his swollen sensitive head brushed your sensitive spot repeatedly.

"How's this darling? Is this what you like?"

"Yes, Sergeant, just like that. I’m so close.”

“Don't! Try to hold back. I want this to last as long as possible. I’ve wanted to give this to you for so long... so you can get the most pleasure out of it.” The need inside of him was getting too intense and he held back as much as he could to keep going. He wanted to be able to give you this for as long as he could.

“I can't, it feels too good. I need to cum.”

“Try… that’s my girl." He was having a hard time keeping his voice from breaking as he tried so hard to hold back. “So good for me.” Bucky watched your body react to every move he made. Your hands grabbing at the bed sheets, your hips slowing their movements against him, you moaning and breathing heavily. The sight of all this made it so hard to go slow but he had to. He had to keep trying.

You looked into his eyes and the way he looked back at you felt like he could see right into your soul. Your fingertips dug into his back in an attempt to stop yourself from falling over the edge as he thrusted down into you.

Your touch was driving him crazy and it was almost enough to drive him over the edge. He continued to focus his every effort on holding on but it was getting harder to resist as your hips began to move slightly faster against him.

“Please-” you whimpered. “I-oh God, please.”

“Please what? Go faster? Let you cum? Tell me. Be a good girl and use your words, darling. And maybe, just maybe I’ll give it to you.”

“Please Bucky, make me cum.”

His body suddenly tightened and he let out a small groan as the feeling of your pleas went through him. He was holding back but it wasn’t working as well now. Your legs started to tense up more and were your nails breaking his skin? Every movement you made, every noise from your mouth was sending him closer and closer to his final climax.

His thumb on your clit was what had you tumbling into oblivion, waves of pleasuring washing over you, Bucky's name on your tongue. His face wore a feral, completely fucked out look as your orgasm triggered his, the stuttered way his hips grinded deeper into your body drew out your pleasure until your vision went completely black for a few seconds. You squeezed around him, milking his white hot seed, greedily claiming what was yours until his cum was leaking out of your overfilled pussy. Bucky collapsed on you shortly after, his breathing heavy and his chest vibrating ever so slightly from the effort he had just gone through but he smiled, looking down at you with his most vulnerable expression yet.

“I love you, Buck,” you whispered, carding your fingers through the edges of his hair.

"I love you too, Cricket... so damn much." He let out a soft sigh of satisfaction, the feeling between the two of you was one that could never be matched.

"That was... something else.”

He couldn't help but chuckle a bit. "That's one way of describing it." He pressed his lips onto yours again for one more lengthy kiss before pulling away and resting his head on your chest. "Did you get everything you wanted?”

"And more.”

He grinned as he closed his eyes for a moment, head still on your chest, and arms wrapped securely around you and his body was still trembling ever so slightly. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes, looking up at you, the warmth of this moment was indescribable. "That makes me happy to hear.”

Every life might be a pile of good things and bad things, but in this exact minute, everything was perfect. Bucky closed his eyes, simply absorbing everything about this moment of peace.

"Is it too late for dinner?” you asked, as Bucky chuckled at your rumbling belly.

“I suspect the place where I made reservations won’t accept us turning up now.”

You sighed and pouted. “Boo.”

Bucky pulled out of you and you lamented about the loss of fullness inside you. He propped himself up on his elbow, resting his head on his hand and turned to you. “I was going to make a reservation at Sticks and Stones, but... I wasn't sure if you would feel comfortable with that because that's where... I want you to feel comfortable and secure about us first. ”

“Thanks,” you whispered gratefully.

“You in the mood for something else?”

"Yeah," you grin, seductively. “Dessert!”

You screamed gleefully as Bucky suddenly rolled onto you, his laughter ringing in your ears.

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#bucky barnes smut #bucky smut #winter soldier smut #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fan fiction #my best friend's girl

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badasbebi · 17 hours

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imagination's curse

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✦ pairing: bada lee x fem!reader

✦ summary: you long for excitement in your mundane life, until you are suddenly visited by a strange, beautiful woman who upends your world and thrusts you into a whirlwind of pleasure and danger.

✦ genre/au: smut (MDNI!!), succubus!bada, basically pwp

✦ word count: 6k

✦ warnings: probably has grammatical/spelling errors, mentions of demons and occult activities, top!bada (she's doing all the work), fingering, cunnilingus, bit of thigh riding, y/n is a weakling, somebody dies (or do they?)

✦ a/n: this is very different from other fics I've written, in genre and length, because after watching bebe's imagination video on repeat, i decided to temporarily drop the other fic i was working on to write this! we will be getting back to the more simple (and long) fics I've written before, but i hope you guys still enjoy this in the meantime! i purposely left this open-ended in case i, or you guys, wanted to see a continuation of this story at some point. lmk if that would be of interest to y'all!

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Beyond the restaurant windows, rain pounds against the earth. The rhythmic drumming of the rain lulls you into a trance-like state, eyes glossing over and body becoming numb. The soft jazz music coming from the speakers overhead only enhances your drowsiness, making you melt into your seat like heated wax. You rest your chin in the palm of your hand and stare out at the street, watching cars pass by and disappear into the darkness. Your eyelids become heavy and you blink, attempting to bring your attention back to the real world, and, probably most importantly, the person in front of you.

You sigh, slouching forward in your chair. Your date, Seolhyun, has been droning on for the last twenty minutes about her schoolwork. Her mouth is moving, but your mind isn't registering her words. You can't bring yourself to care. She seems somewhat nice, and she's devastatingly pretty, but those were about the only two qualities of value that you could conjure up. This wouldn't have been so bad, if this date hadn't essentially turned into a one-sided conversation she was having with herself. You don't think you've said more than three words since the both of you sat down.

"Like, nursing is so boring and depressing. I don't get why so many people are into it," she says, taking a bite of her food. "I want to do something interesting and fresh, like, modeling, or something. Or, maybe I'll switch my major to art. I take really good pictures of my friends. Isn't there a photography concentration in the arts program?"

Seolhyun looks over at you expectantly, waiting for your input. You have no idea what the answer is, so you just shrug and give her a fake, tight-lipped smile.

"Yeah, you know what? I think I'm gonna talk to my advisor tomorrow. It's just that my dad is the problem. Whenever I talk to my dad he's like, nooooo. That's not what I've been sending you money for. He's so old fashioned."

"Oh," you respond, your voice monotone. There is a part of you that can't help but feel a little bad about zoning out and ignoring her, but you've had your fill of boring conversations about family and school and life aspirations. This was nothing new.

She slams one of her hands on the table, making you jump so high you nearly knock your glass of water over.

"And it's silly because he's the one who wanted me to go to college sooo badly, so how are you going to complain about paying for it? Its like—and not to sound like a cunt—we do pretty well for ourselves. I don't need to be the moneymaker! I get he wants me to be the head nurse at the hospital he owns, but honestly, fuck that hospital. Fuck the patients too!" she continues, her voice raised loud enough to capture the attention of the nearby tables. You can feel their eyes on you, and a wave of embarrassment washes over you. You glance around the room, trying not to make eye contact with anyone, slowly sliding down in your seat.

"He's just...he's such a hardass. Doesn't let me do anything. It's a real shame," she finishes, huffing in annoyance.

You nod. "Right, it is a real shame." you mumble, still avoiding others' judgemental gazes.

She doesn't seem to notice how uncomfortable you've become, or the attention that she's gathering. Instead, she grins."I know! I'm so glad you get it."

The only thing you're getting is murderous. You needed to get out of here, quickly. As if hearing your internal cries for help, the waiter appears, asking if the two of you would like to see the dessert menu. You shake your head.

"Oh, no. Just the check please," you say, glancing up at him.

Seolhyun nods in agreement. "Yeah, I'm done. This salad was kinda trash. No offense. Sorry." She picks up her napkin and dabs it at her mouth.

The waiter grimaces. "No problem. I'll be right back."

As the waiter walks off, you turn back to Seolhyun, forcing yourself to smile. She jumps right back into her complaints, albeit more quietly, and fidgets with the stem of her wine glass. You tune her out again, no longer feeling guilty for doing so. The only thing that brings your attention back to reality is the waiter setting the bill face-down on the table. He bids you both goodnight before walking off, and when you look up, you almost want to laugh.

A guilty expression flashes across Seolhyun's face, and she leans over the table, looking at the check. She clears her throat, and you already know what she's about to say.

"Do you have your card on you? Sorry, I think I left mine at home. I'll totally venmo you after this." She laughs awkwardly, sitting back in her seat.

You roll your eyes, but reach for your wallet. "Whatever."

After dinner, the two of you step out of the restaurant and into the rain, huddling under the overhang as you try to find an escape from the downpour.

"Well, it was nice chatting with you, y/n," she says, stepping towards the edge of the overhang. "Hope we can hang out again soon."

"Yeah, definitely," you lie.

"Awesome! Talk to you late, then." she smiles, and you know she's lying too.

Seolhyun walks out into the rain and you watch as she crosses the street, heading toward a pink Tesla.

"Bitch," you murmur bitterly, pulling your hood over your head.

You don't want to spend money on an Uber, and the walk to the nearest bus stop isn't very far, so you decide to trek through the rain, praying that the bus won't take long. You zip up your coat and put your hood over your head, stepping out into the rain. The cold pelts against your face and seeps through the material of your clothes, causing goosebumps to break out on your skin. You curse, and pull your arms in close to your body, walking faster. The streetlamps lining the road provide enough light for you to see where you're going despite the dark clouds overhead, their glow casting an orange glow against the pavement.

As you walk, your thoughts turn back to your disastrous date. You didn't mean to act like such an ass, but it was impossible not to when the entire evening had consisted of her talking about herself and how difficult her life was. The worst part is, she actually seemed to think you were a good listener, even with your blank stares and monosyllabic responses.

Deep down, you know that it's not entirely Seolhyun's fault. Today felt like a culmination of all the ways you've been failing lately. In short, it's been a bad week. A bad month. A bad year. At all points, you've felt as though there was no escape from the dullness of your life, like you were being suffocated, drowned in a pool of water with no way to save yourself. These were your college years, and you came to the realization last year that all you've been doing was sitting in your dorm, studying, going to class, and then going home. No parties, no drama, no adventures, no romance, nothing. Even worse, it seemed like everyone else had already started their lives and were living them. It was infuriating, seeing everyone around you have fun, while you were stuck in this weird limbo of mediocrity.

In attempts to find some excitement, you downloaded a dating app and started going out more, meeting people, but so far, all the dates have ended up being like this one. Boring, or just plain awkward. You've tried to make changes—different clothes, makeup, hair—anything to shake things up, and while that was nice and made you feel pretty, it didn't change the fact that your life was still dull. And now, you're just exhausted, constantly feeling like you're going through the motions.

Nothing has worked. This was probably the tenth horrible date you've been on in two months. Maybe, this was just your life now, and you had to come to terms with it. Bland, and as bleak as the clouds overhead.

Which seem to have gotten even darker, you notice, as you approach the bus stop. You stand underneath the shelter, rubbing your hands together and blowing on them. The streets are completely deserted. You shiver, your damp clothes clinging to your skin, and hug yourself tightly, trying to keep warm. You try to look for any sign of the bus, but the rain is coming down too hard, the air is heavy with fog, and you can't see further than a few feet away. A prickle of fear runs down your spine. You didn't even think to check if the buses were running late. What if they're not running at all?

Just as you reach for your phone to check the time, you hear the screeching of bus brakes and let out a sigh of relief. You're saved.

You stand at the edge of the sidewalk, watching as the bus slowly pulls up in front of the stop. The door opens and you step inside, moving as quickly as you can. The warm air instantly hits your face, but the heat does nothing to thaw the chill that has set in your bones. You pay the driver, and walk to the back, taking a seat near the window. The bus is nearly empty, save for an old woman and a couple of teenagers sitting towards the front.

You pull your phone out of your pocket and plug in your earbuds. Music starts playing, drowning out the noise of the rain and the rumble of the engine.

After a few stops, the bus reaches your destination and the doors open, the sound of the rain pouring down and the wind blowing in, bringing with it a cool breeze. You get off, and begin the trek home, your sneakers splashing through puddles as you make your way down the street.

The wind picks up, the gusts blowing hard enough to cause the street lamps to flicker and sway. They cast shadows against the ground and walls of the buildings, which appear and disappear in the blink of an eye. The rain comes down harder, falling in thick, heavy sheets. You quicken your pace, the muscles in your legs burning as you move, your heart rate quickening.

Finally, your apartment building comes into view. You run, sprinting the last block and darting up the steps, the water squishing between your toes. Excitement blooms in your chest as you grab the door handle and pull it open, the prospect of a dry place to lay your head making you feel better.

As soon as you cross the threshold of your building, you pull your hood down, the smell of mildew hitting your nose. Your shoes squeak against the wet floor, and you leave a trail of water droplets and mud as you head toward the elevator.

The ride up is excruciatingly slow. You tap your foot impatiently, watching the numbers climb, and think about the warm bed that's awaiting you, how good it'll feel to wrap yourself in a blanket and forget about this miserable night. If your roommate allows it.

Once your mind drifts to her, your excitement dwindles. Fatigue weighs heavy on your shoulders, and you long for nothing more than to be asleep in the comfort of your own bed, but you know it's a rubbish wish, thanks to Aeri.

Recently, home hasn't been particularly enjoyable either. You used to have a roommate who didn't bother you. Then, she dropped out, and you were stuck with rent, an empty room, and the task of finding a new roommate. It was a difficult process, with most candidates seeming creepy or annoying or gross. Then, you ran into Aeri, who was by no means a perfect match, but seemed good enough. She was a bit awkward, and you didn't really know what to make of the intense gothic attire she was sporting during your initial meeting. She seemed incredibly nice and easygoing, though, and she smelled good. Was that not all you needed? So, running out of time, you swallowed your apprehension and gave her the spare keys to your apartment.

For the most part, you didn't regret your decision. She was, in fact, one of the sweetest, most caring people you've ever met, frequently baking treats for you when she knew you were having a particularly terrible day and listening to you vent about your dating diasters. But, there were a few small issues that had cropped up, and they happened to occur most often at night.

Your stomach does flip-flops the higher the numbers get, until, finally, the elevator dings, and the doors open. You shuffle out into the hall, pulling out your keys and heading toward the apartment. When you're in front of the door, you hesitate, the key hovering in the air as you stare at the peephole. You take a deep breath and push the door open, the smell of incense instantly hitting your nose as you step inside of the dark apartment. You slip off your wet shoes and hang your jacket up on your worn-out coat rack.

"I'm back," you call, closing the door behind you. You step further into the apartment and glance around as you walk into the living room, where you are met with a sight you're not prepared for.

Your eyes squint to adjust to the dark and take in the scene before you. The air is thick and heavy, engulfed by the scent of a sweet, intoxicating perfume. Candles are placed throughout the space, their warm glow casting shadows on the wall. Aeri kneels in the middle of the living room, wearing a cloak, her hands hovering above an intricate pentagram on the floor. She mumbles something to herself that you cannot understand, her eyes closed. Her hair falls over her face and her lips move, but no words are uttered.

"Aeri, what are you doing?" you ask, taking a tentative step forward.

Aeri's head snaps up, her eyes wide, and the mumbling stops.

"Oh, hey, you're back," she says, her tone a bit nervous. Her hands tremble as she moves the hood of her cloak back. "Sorry, I didn't know you'd be back so soon. I was just—uh—you know."

"No, actually. I don't. What are you doing?" You repeat, folding your arms in front of you.

She looks around the room, before returning her gaze to you. "Uh...meditating?"

And this was the problem. Shortly after Aeri moved in, she brought her witchy occult shit with her. You don't really believe in any of it, so you typically ignore her and carry on with your day when you see her pull out one of her spellbooks at the dinner table. Except for days like this, when she goes too far, gets too loud, and keeps you up at night with her antics. Then, she becomes public enemy number one.

You glare at her. "With a pentagram on the floor? Please. This is..."

You pause, scanning the room again. There's something particularly wrong today, but you can't quite place it. There's heaviness in the air, a heightened version of the feeling you get when you're in a haunted house, except there are no clowns or people cosplaying as serial killers, just candles and a pentagram and Aeri, staring up at you.

"Bizarre. This is bizarre. Even for you." you finish, narrowing your eyes. "What's going on?"

"Nothing!" She squeaks, her voice strained. "I was just...doing some reading about a spell that could, uh. Fix a problem that I’ve been having. I decided to try it out today"

You pinch the bridge of your nose and let out an exasperated sigh. You're tired. Your hair is drenched. Your shirt is clinging to your back. You couldn't be bothered with this.

"Listen, I don't think I actually care about what you have going on. But, I have an exam tomorrow, I've had a rough day, and I need some rest. Can you promise to keep it down in here while I sleep?"

Aeri looks around, a guilty expression on her face, before nodding her head. "Sure, yeah. No problem. I’m sorry."

"Thank you," you say, and turn on your heels without another word.

You make your way through the hallway and enter your bedroom, shutting the door behind you.

Your room is dark and cold, but you can't bother to turn the lights on or get under the covers. Instead, you lay down on the bed, your limbs splayed out. Your hair is still wet, and you can feel the moisture seeping into your comforter, but you can't even think to move.

You're too tired to bother changing into your pajamas. Too tired to do anything but sleep. So, you shove off your socks and rain-soaked jeans and call it a day. You crawl into bed, pulling the blankets over your body until they rest just below your chin. The warmth envelopes you and you're finally able to relax. You stare up at the ceiling, watching the fan spin slowly, praying for a peaceful night's rest. Lately, you've been plagued by strange dreams you can't remember when you wake up. Although they've been forgetful, they usually keep you tossing and turning in your sleep throughout the night. But, tonight, your eyelids are so heavy you can barely keep them open, and within seconds, you drift off into unconsciousness, the world slipping away and the darkness consuming you. The smell of Aeri's incense and the sound of the rain lulls you into a slumber unlike never before, submerged into a dark void of nothing.

That is, until you feel something touch you. You awaken with a start, jolting upright in your bed, your heart racing. The room is dark, illuminated only by the light of the moon shining through the window. You glance around frantically, searching for the source of the touch, but there's nothing, no sign of life. Just shadows, and the sound of your breathing. You close your eyes, taking a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. It's probably just the wind or an insect. You're tired, and your deteriorating mind is playing tricks on you. There's nothing to be scared of.

You lay back down, pulling the blankets up to your chin, and take a deep breath, closing your eyes. Your heartbeat begins to slow, and you exhale, trying to relax. A few minutes pass, and you begin to drift off once again, when, suddenly, you feel something against your neck. A cold, soft pressure. Like a feather, brushing across your skin.

"Y/N." A soft, gentle voice whispers.

Your eyes flutter open, and you are met with the sight of a woman's face, inches away from yours. You gasp and shoot up again, nearly slamming your forehead against hers. The woman backs away, allowing you to regain your bearings. You blink a few times, shaking your head to try to wake yourself up, but she remains., staring at you with an expression that could only be described as amused.

The moonlight streams in through the window, giving the woman's figure an almost ethereal glow. You've never seen her before. She has a stupefying, otherworldly, beauty about her, with dark eyes and full lips that accentuate her sharp jawline. She's wearing a black, silky nightgown that clings to her body. Her pale, delicate-looking skin shines in the moonlight, and her dark hair, interlaced with another color, cascades down her back, falling over her shoulders.

You look around the room, expecting the lights to turn on and an elaborate prank to be revealed, but the room is just as dark and empty as you remember. When your eyes fall back onto the woman, she is staring back at you, a soft smile on her face.

"Who the fuck are you?" you force out, your voice trembling.

She quirks an eyebrow, tilting her head to the side. "Were you not expecting me?"

You scoff, nearly choking on your own saliva. "No! Of course not. I've never seen you before in my life. What the hell is going on? And how do you know my name?"

Her eyes light up with mirth, and her smile widens as if she's in on some sort of joke.

"Oh, this is interesting," she starts, clasping her hands together. "This is very interesting."

As a primal fear takes hold of your body, interesting is the last word that comes to your brain to describe the situation you've found yourself in. Albeit hot, this random woman broke into your apartment to do God knows what to you and your belongings. Who knows if she's already murdered Aeri. Or, perhaps, this is a lucid dream, and you're experiencing some sort of weird hallucination. Either way, you wanted out. Now.

You release a shaky exhale in a poor attempt to calm your nerves. "I'm gonna call the cops, okay? But, I really don't want any trouble. If you leave now, I won't tell anyone about this."

The woman stares at you for a moment, her expression unreadable, before erupting into a fit of laughter. You blink, unsure of how to proceed. She continues to laugh, her hand clutching her chest as her whole body shakes. The sound is melodic, and it rings out like the chimes of a bell, the notes flowing effortlessly into the air. It's almost enchanting, and you find yourself lost in the melody until she quiets down and straightens up, a soft smile on her face.

"That's completely unnecessary. I'm not here to cause you any harm, Y/N," she says, and, somehow, her voice is even more hypnotic than her laugh. Some of your fear dissipates, but the confusion remains.

"Why are you here, then?" you question, unable to keep the suspicion out of your tone.

"To give you a little bit of help. I know you've been struggling." She replies, her voice dripping with sympathy.

"How do you know that?"

She smiles, the expression making her features seem even more radiant than before. "I know a lot of things. 'How' is irrelevant. What's more important is that I know exactly how I can help you tonight. You need...a stress reliever. I can do that for you. If you're up for it, that is."

"A stress reliever?" You echo, and the way her eyes sparkle in the moonlight, her lips quirked up in a seductive smirk, her voice low and smooth, makes it abundantly clear what she's implying. Your cheeks flush and heat rushes through your body. This couldn't be real. Could it?

"I don't think we're on the same page. I mean, a...stress reliever. I don't know if I understand," you say, shifting uncomfortably.

"You're a bit slow, aren't you?" she asks a devilish grin stretching across her face, and, she's probably right. You feel like a fish out of water, opening and closing your mouth like an idiot. The worst part of it is, she seems to be enjoying your floundering, grinning wider as she watches you stutter.

"There's no need to worry," she purrs, taking a step closer, her dark eyes shining. "You just need to relax. It'll be fun."

The sane, rational part of your brain is screaming, yelling, begging for you to run out of the room. Anybody with half a brain could decipher that the sensible thing to do in this situation would be to flee, grab a weapon, and call the police. Yet, here you are, lying still, the woman's words ringing in your ears. Fun. It's been a long time since you've had fun. You can't even remember the last time you've gotten remotely close to it. And, as if she was sent from above, here was a beautiful, mysterious woman, offering it to you on a platter. You can't help but be a bit curious. Curious about the strange, magical feeling that's coursing through your veins.

Plus, your body is aching for touch, and the idea of sleeping with a beautiful woman is incredibly tempting, especially in your state. It's been months since you've had sex.

The woman takes a step closer, and your stomach does a flip. This is stupid. It's dangerous, and stupid, and it would be so easy to say no.

"You won't hurt me, right?" You ask, a nervous edge creeping into your voice.

"You'll enjoy every second we spend together," she says, her eyes stroking over you. Her gaze is so intense, her voice so soothing, all you want is to please her. You don't think. You no longer have the ability to. Your desire is too strong.

"What are you going to do?" you ask, the words tumbling out of your mouth.

"That depends on you," she says, her fingers brushing the edge of the duvet. "What would you like me to do?"

You look into her dark, all-consuming eyes, and shiver. Your blood feels like it's on fire. "I—um—whatever you had in mind."

Her eyes narrow, her lips curling up into a smirk. She leans in, her warm breath ghosting your lips. You can smell her perfume, the scent of vanilla and lavender assaulting your senses.

Your heart beats fast, and you can't help the small whimper that escapes your throat.

"Are you sure?" she says, her voice low. "You don't know what you're getting yourself into."

She's right. For all you knew, her idea of fun could include a knife and a casket. But you couldn't bring yourself to care, not when she's looking at you like that.

"I don't care," you say, your voice hoarse. "Do whatever you want with me."

The corners of her lips curl upwards, and her eyes twinkle with mischief. "Okay," she whispers, her voice soft and sweet.

She leans forward, her lips ghosting yours. You hold your breath, anticipating her next move. Her hand moves up to cup your cheek, her thumb rubbing small circles on your skin that send a tingle down your spine. You lean into the touch, and her smile widens. She tilts her head to the side, and presses a kiss to the corner of your lips. The contact is soft, tender, and sweet. Her lips are warm, and the touch is brief, but enough to ignite the flames within your veins. You gasp, moving your head to try to capture her lips with yours, and she chuckles, pulling away.

"You're so impatient," she says, her eyes gleaming. "Desperate, even."

Embarrassment creeps up on you, and you flush, averting your gaze. She laughs again, and grabs your chin, forcing you to look at her.

"Don't hide from me," she whispers, her voice soft. "There's nothing wrong with wanting something."

With her words, the fire within you flares, and the embers within your belly burst into an inferno. Your whole body is burning, yearning, and you can't help the sigh that escapes your throat. She hums, staring at you with her piercing gaze. You've never felt this exposed, so vulnerable, so completely bare in front of another person, and you are still partially clothed. She seems to be studying you, taking in every detail, memorizing the expressions on your face. She's looking at you like you're prey, a feast, and it should scare you, should make you tremble, but it doesn't.

"Kiss me," you murmur, and she obeys.

You let out a small gasp, and her lips curve into a smile against yours as you make contact. Your eyes flutter shut, and the warmth of her mouth almost sends you spiraling. The feeling is electric, like a bolt of lightning, and it sets every nerve ending within your body alight. Her tongue glides along your bottom lip, and you part them willingly, allowing her all of the access she desires. Her tongue is warm, and wet, and her kisses are intoxicating. She tastes sweet, like strawberries and vanilla, and you can't help but moan.

She pulls away, prompting an involuntary whimper from you."Is this what you wanted, y/n?"

"Yes—uh," you stop yourself, realizing that you still don't know her name.

"Bada," she supplies, as if reading your mind. She places a hand on your chest, and gently pushes you back onto the bed, her gaze locked on yours. You fall onto the mattress, your eyes wide.

"Bada," you repeat softly, tasting the name on your lips. Pretty.

She smiles and slips the blankets off of you. The cool air hits your skin, sending goosebumps along your arms and legs. You suck in a sharp breath, and her eyes rake over you, drinking in the sight.

"Beautiful," she whispers, her fingers tracing up your thigh.

She leans down to press a gentle kiss on your jaw. Her lips travel down your neck, and she bites at the sensitive skin, hard. A moan slips from your mouth, and she sucks and licks at the spot, soothing the sting. Her hand trails up the inside of your thigh, and her fingertips graze the band of your underwear. You arch your back, yearning for her touch.

"Please," you whimper again, and she giggles.

"At least you're polite," she says, biting down on your neck again.

Her teeth scrape against your skin, and you gasp, grabbing a fistful of her hair. You pull her closer, desperate to remove any shred of distance between the two of you. She groans, her nails digging into your thigh, her touch searing hot. She sucks at the tender skin below your collarbone, and you whine, heat pooling between your legs. It was a little humiliating, getting so worked up despite the fact that she's barely done anything, but it was hard not to when she's touching as if she wants nothing more than to devour you.

"So impatient," she purrs, her eyes gleaming. "So needy."

She kisses the mark she made on your neck, and you squirm, the pressure between your thighs growing.

Her fingers move higher, ghosting over your underwear, and you writhe under her touch, letting out a frustrated groan. She pulls away, a smirk on her lips.

"Something wrong?"

"You're fucking with me," you hiss, and she laughs out loud.

"Your impatience is cute," she says, her fingers brushing against the sensitive skin on your neck, pausing where your heartbeat pulsed, right beneath your jaw. "Can't help it."

You watch as she moves her hand away from your neck, back to your underwear. Her fingers slip under the band of your panties, already dark and wet, and she runs them through your folds, spreading your already abundant slickness. You couldn't stand that you were so clearly proving her point about how needy you were, giving her more to make fun of you about, but how could you not be? It's been too long. and you don't know if it's ever felt this good this early on.

Your head falls back onto the pillow, and your hands clutch at the sheets, desperate for purchase. The feeling of her thumb brushing against your clit makes your hips buck up, and she pulls away to pull down your panties.

You shiver, the cool air hitting your exposed skin. She grabs your thighs, spreading them apart, and the anticipation nearly kills you on the spot.

"So pretty," she says, her voice filled with wonder.

She looks up at you, her eyes darker than before. She holds your gaze, and without breaking eye contact, ducks her head, and swipes her tongue along your slit.

A moan escapes your lips, and your back arches, your fingers threading through her hair. Her tongue moves in circles, and you feel her hands grasp at your thighs as you inadvertently try shut them close around her head. She spreads them further apart, and presses her mouth against your center, sucking on the bundle of nerves.

"F—fuck," you moan, your head thrown back, eyes shut.

She moans into you, the vibrations causing pleasure to erupt inside of you. You grip the sheets, the fabric crumpling underneath your fingers. She pulls away, and your eyes fly open, only to meet her intense gaze.

"Watch me," she whispers, her voice husky.

Your eyes snap to her face, and she smiles, her fingers trailing down your stomach. You squirm under her touch, and she grips your thighs, her eyes locked on yours. Her staring does something to you, makes the goosebumps rise on your skin, a funny feeling arise in your stomach. She presses her lips against the inside of your thigh, her eyes not leaving yours.

She slips a finger inside of you, and you gasp, the sudden intrusion causing a wave of pleasure to wash over your body. She curls her finger, and you arch your back, the friction driving you crazy.

"That's it," she purrs, adding another finger.

You throw your head back, moaning as she begins to thrust her fingers, moving in a steady rhythm. You clench around her fingers, and her eyes widen, a mischievous glint shining in her irises. You bite your lip, the pressure building, and she smirks, increasing the pace of her movements. She crooks her fingers, hitting a sensitive spot inside of you.

"Fuck," you cry out, and her lips curl upwards, pleased.

She leans forward, her lips capturing yours, her tongue invading your mouth. She swallows your moans, and you can feel her smiling against your lips. She pulls away, and rests her forehead against yours, her dark eyes boring into yours.

"Are you going to come for me, y/n?"

"Y-yes," you whimper, and she laughs, her hot breath fanning against your cheek.

She thrusts her fingers faster, and her thumb rubs against your clit, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body. Your breaths come out short and quick, and your head spins, the room spinning.

"Come on," she whispers, her voice low and sultry.

The pressure builds, and you can feel the edge coming. You gasp, your eyes shut, and your whole body tenses up, the pleasure rippling through your body. You let out a string of curses, and she slows her movements, riding out the aftershocks.

"That's it," she murmurs, her fingers leaving your core.

She trails her fingers up your torso, and leans down, her lips hovering above yours.

"Open up," she commands, her voice taking on a deeper cadence that makes you immediately obey. She pushes her fingers inside of your mouth, and your tongue dances around her digits, tasting yourself, a musky flavor that leaves you feeling lightheaded. She hums and removes her fingers, a trail of saliva connecting her digits to your mouth.

"Good." she whispers, her breath tickling your cheek.

Your eyes flutter shut, and your head spins. You're exhausted, and you almost feel as if you're about to pass out, but her praise and proximity sends a thrill through you, your heart fluttering at her words. She presses another soft kiss to your lips, allowing you to taste yourself on her tongue. She pulls away, a lazy smile on her face.

Through your exhaustion, you manage to meet her gaze again, and you nearly gasp. Her pupils had swollen, the dark brown of her eyes merely a slim ring around a black void, devoid of any color. You swallow hard, a slight panic rising within you as you suddenly remembering the reality of the predicament you're in. Or, was it even reality?

"W—what's happening?" you stutter, the words tumbling from your mouth.

She grins, and you realize for the first time that her teeth are razor sharp, looking as if they could tear your flesh to shreds.

"I'm taking care of you, that's what's happening, silly." she says, her voice taking on a sing-songy quality. Her hand trails down your side. "And I'm not quite finished, yet."

She leans down and captures your lips in another kiss so rough that it nearly bruises. You're still dizzy, the blood pumping through your veins, and your head still feels as if it's full of cotton. As soon as her hands meet your skin, your exhaustion and worry disappear, replaced by euphoria. She reaches under your shirt, her fingers dancing along your torso, and you moan, your mind foggy. You can't help the small sounds that escape from your lips as she touches you, her fingers tracing every curve, every angle, committing every inch of your body to memory. Soon, your top is tossed to the side, and her hands are exploring your bare skin. Her fingers run up your spine, and you shiver, goosebumps forming. She pulls away, and a whine falls from your lips, a sound that causes her to laugh.

"So easy to please," she teases.

"Sh-shut up," you protest weakly.

Suddenly, she grabs you by the waist, pulling you into her lap with an ease that catches you off guard. You're stunned into silence, and she wraps her arms around you, enveloping you in a tight embrace. You let out a yelp, and her nails dig into your skin, the sting making you bite back a groan. She places her chin on top of your shoulder, and her hands move lower, settling on your hips. She squeezes and forces your hips into a grind, her thigh meeting the apex of your legs. Your eyes flutter shut, a wave of heat pooling between your legs, a warmth filling the pit of your stomach, a small moan escaping your lips. She chuckles, her breath tickling the back of your neck.

"Fuck," you choke out, the embarrassment clear in your tone as you continue to your center against the smooth skin of her thigh.

"You're funny," she murmurs with a smile, and presses a kiss on your cheek.

A blush creeps onto your cheeks, and you hide your face, burying it into her neck. You inhale deeply, her scent filling your nose. She still smells so sweet, like dessert, and you want to lick her, devour her, but instead, you press your lips to her skin, and she moans, gripping your hips hard enough to leave a mark.

"God, you're so beautiful," she whispers, her nails digging into your hips. "So, so pretty."

You moan, the heat between your legs intensifying. Her words go straight to your core, and you can't help the small, high-pitched whine that leaves your mouth, a sound you'd be ashamed of if not for the fact that you can't think, can't focus, can't even process her words.

One of her hands slips around your waist, grabbing at the bare flesh of your ass. Your breath hitches, and she pulls you closer, her mouth finding the spot on your neck that drives you wild. Her teeth scrape against your skin, and her tongue laps at the hollow of your collarbone, the sensation eliciting a loud moan. You tilt your head, allowing her access, and her mouth moves downward, to your breast, her tongue circling one of your nipples. Your eyes squeeze shut, the tension in your abdomen mounting. It was overstimulating, her thighs, the way her tongue felt against you, the way her fingers squeezed at the flesh of your ass, the way her hands explored the planes of your body, and it was all too much.

"I'm gonna—" you start, and her hand moves between your legs, pressing her fingers against your throbbing clit.

You let out a cry, the orgasm hitting you hard, the intensity somehow stronger than before. Her fingers slide easily against you, and you clench around her, the waves of pleasure washing over your body.

She lets out a soft sigh, and she pulls away, her black eyes meeting yours. You don't care enough to feel frightened this time though, being so flooded with exhaustion that you collapse back onto the bed, barely able to keep your eyes open. Sharp, short breaths escape from your lips, and a numbness starts to spread throughout your limbs, a strange calm settling over your body that you've never felt before. Somewhere in the back of your brain, alarm bells are going off, but they're drowned out by a heavy sleepiness that takes over you.

"Go back to sleep, Y/N." she says, her voice distant, muffled. "It's alright."

You can feel the weight of the world bearing down on your shoulders, and the bags under your eyes seem to grow heavier and darker with every passing second. It has been a very long time since you were last able to sleep properly. You wanted to talk to Bada more, but you can feel yourself beginning to lose control, your mind going blank and your muscles becoming weak.

"Bada..." you mumble, her name rolling off your tongue.

Before you can further speak, the darkness seeps into your mind, and you allow yourself to succumb. But, the feeling that accompanies you into sleep is an uneasy one, a cold sensation wrapping itself around your body like a snake squeezing the life out of its prey.

"Good night," Bada whispers, the words echoing in the darkness, the sound fading into nothingness.

#bada lee #bada lee fanfic #bada lee x reader #bada lee x y/n #swf2 #street woman fighter 2 #bada lee imagine #bada lee smut

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brucewaynehater101 · 2 days

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L.O.V.E. By sushi soucy is so ghost of a bar kid haunting Bruce after he accidentally killed them after they stepped out of line, or maybe he was just mad, and then he tried to hide it but the ghost is having none of that.

All the Barbies work in this situation individually I think

A story where Bruce accidentally murders one of his own kids and tries to hide it and lie about it?

That would be such a fucked up AU, and I'm here for it.

For this song, the singer mentions that they were killed "last summer." Therefore, Bruce was able to hide this murder for over six months. Imma build this AU:

Bruce, in a fit of rage, kills one of his kids. This is most likely to be Dick or Jason (just due to him hitting them more in comics), with Tim as the third most likely option. Something something, escalation of "communication" habits. Dealer's choice on who gets murdered.

The man then "sends" the kid he killed on a "mission" where the kid is either undercover for months or ends up killed on the field.

I think Steph should be the one to start to put the clues together. Tim would choose to protect his siblings, but, at least in this AU, it's harder initially for him to move past his bias that "there's no way Bruce would do that." This is why, despite the red flags, Tim didn't piece it together himself. After Steph brings up the points, Tim can either dismiss her, help her while disagreeing, or grimly accept the likelihood.

Cass could be someone Steph turns to before Tim or who they both go to next.

Perhaps, in some weird version of protecting them, those three decide to try to shield their younger siblings (Duke and Damian) until they get solid evidence. Perhaps they find ways to keep the two of them away from Bruce (sending Damian to TT and ensuring Bruce stays out of Gotham to take care of other business). Duke and Damian notice eventually, but it buys them time.

After gathering enough evidence, the three present their case to Barbara. Of course, it absolutely wrecks her emotionally. This is when it finally sinks in for the three that their sibling is dead.

Barbara gets to work finding irrefutable proof as the three call up which ever sibling didn't die (Jason or Dick). They then make plans to protect everyone and keep Bruce away from the youngest (as well as needing to tell them what's going on).

If you want, this could all be told from the perspective of the kid who was murdered. They watch as Bruce covers it up (and wracks himself with guilt over it [which has complicated feeling for the kid cause fuck Bruce but that's their dad]). The kid watches as Steph starts to figure it out and how the interaction with Tim and Cass go. They watch as they all suddenly understand that their sibling is dead.

#dc comics #tim drake #dc universe #thank you for the ask!!!!#dc au #bruce wayne #steph brown #jason todd #dick grayson

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evanbuckleyrecs · 16 hours

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Buddie AUs over 20k

To catch up on recommending fics in my bookmarks, I'll also try to make some lists instead of posting one fic per post. Though some fics might also still get their own posts even while added in a list.

To start, here are some finished Buddie AUs with more than 20k words

(I made this list in March so it doesn't have any newer fics. Soon I want to spend a day dedicated to catching up to new fics and adding posts to my queue here)

what if you're someone I just want around by ReallySmartLadyMarieCurie

20k, Rated T

"Eddie pauses in his typing, glancing at Buck and trying to figure him out. He seems so eager to help and to please, so willing to take some of the burden in order to make others happy. It’s the sort of presence that Eddie’s been craving in his life. One that he’s missed since Shannon’s fatal accident. And he’s incredibly handsome. He’s got conventional good looks and a beautiful smile, but that pink little splotch above his eye, which Eddie guesses is a birthmark, is really what brings it home."

Or, Eddie Diaz is a successful boxer who's been making a big name for himself in recent years. Buck is a fan, but he certainly never expected to end up at Eddie's house after the man calls 9-1-1 when his son gets sick.

I love the way you spoil me, baby by rosebuddiekin

33,8K, rated E

“I, uh, I was actually at that coffee shop to meet with someone else. You see, for the past few years, I’ve been a sugar daddy on a site that connects people looking for similar things. I was supposed to meet with a prospective baby that day, but then I saw you. And I felt drawn to you, so I messaged the guy I was supposed to be seeing and told him I had to cancel. I just, I thought you should know. That I should be upfront about it from the start.”

Eddie’s fork drops to his plate, making a small clatter. He can feel that his mouth is agape. He’s very glad he hadn’t taken another bite or sip of anything while Buck spoke. Because what the actual fuck? Buck… is a sugar daddy.

OR: Buck is a sugar daddy who wants to spoil Eddie rotten and take care of everything for him. Eddie has never had that sort of relationship but is willing to give it a try. There is plenty of adventure along the way.

Sunny skies & summer high by prettyboybuckley

Sequel to a one shot, 43,8K, rated E

 "Well, I kind of want to kiss you right now but that's usually something that happens at the end of a first date, right?" Buck asks, doing a weird movement with his eyebrows in an attempt to be funny.

Eddie chuckles, wrinkling his nose a little.

"I guess, yeah," he mutters. "Think we're doing this a little backward already anyway, so are there any rules to follow?"

He's got a point there, and even then Buck has never really been the kind of guy who follows rules, so he ends up leaning over the center console as he uses one hand to pull Eddie's face towards him. It's a short kiss, a simple peck hello that Eddie chases after when Buck pulls away again.

OR: Buck and Eddie sneak around behind Eddie’s family’s back, spend the summer together, smoke a lot of weed, and fall in love along the way

Kiss me before It's over (if only for a minute) by Bob_loblaws_lawblog

54,2K, Rated E

Evan Buckley is living out his childhood dream as the star hitter for the Philadelphia Phillies. He’s climbing the ranks, improving his stats with every single game – he’s unstoppable.

That is, until the Los Angeles Angels get a new pitcher seemingly out of nowhere. Known for his strong arm and tricky curve balls, Eddie Diaz is one of the few pitchers in the nation who consistently makes Buck strike out, and its infuriating. Even from the sixty feet that separate them between the batter’s box and the pitcher’s mound, the weight of Diaz’s gaze is enough to make Buck’s blood boil.

Because Buck doesn’t get nervous on game day, he never feels calmer than when he steps up to the plate with the bat in his hand – it’s where he belongs. But when he sees Eddie Diaz standing on that mound, his stomach flips and nerves spark across his skin.

Because if there is one thing Buck knows for sure, it is that he hates Eddie Diaz.

… Until he doesn’t.

Traded by princessfbi

23,7K, rated M

Really, it was Lena’s fault. She’d been the one to demand a video when Eddie had finally caved and sent an SOS to the group chat asking if anyone was willing to trade.

“Is anyone interested in trading jerseys with me? Preferably for a smaller size,” Eddie had said because knowing his coworkers, one of them would’ve been a smart ass and gave him an even bigger size. “I ordered an XL because I’m usually a XL but… the way it fits makes me look like I’m fucking one of the players.”

Eddie wasn't trying to go viral. He just wanted to trade his jersey. But then something called Booktok got involved.

Bartender!Eddie Diaz x Hockey Player!Evan Buckley

Snowed Inn by brewrosemilk

31,1K, rated M

Rivaling for a promotion, journalists Evan Buckley and Eddie Diaz get sent to a small town where they are each to write a piece on a once illustrious inn and its rich history. For two talented and overconfident authors, it sounds like an easy assignment - but in between a violent snowstorm, blocked roads, heated stares, and a struggling inn, Buck and Eddie may just have to abandon their rivalry and accept each other as partners.

Don't play games (come my way) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels

43,1K, Rated E

Buck hates Eddie Diaz.

Ever since his publishing company and Eddie's merged, the man has been nothing but a pain in Buck's ass. The way he nitpicks all of Buck's company emails, the way he spends half his day bickering with Buck, the way he makes Buck's stomach flip and the way he's started haunting Buck's dreams... yeah, it's one hundred percent hate. Definitely. Buck's sure of it.

Because what the hell else could it be?

Falling slowly; sing your melody (I'll sing it loud) by princessfbi

55,3K, Rated E

Buck didn’t like him at first.

Eddie Diaz was all hard lines and strict rules with a bone structure that could cut through glass and scared away his fans. Which... if you asked Bobby, was the point but still!

He also yelled at Buck which was fine. It’s not like it hurt his feelings.

It didn’t.

It didn’t, Maddie!

It also definitely didn’t turn Buck on either. Nope.

Stop it, Maddie!

After a traumatizing home invasion, Bobby Nash decides to hire a bodyguard for his lead singer.

Musician!Buck Bodyguard!Eddie

More fics to be recommended soon!

#911 #buddie #911 on abc #buddie fanfic rec #buddie fanfiction #rated m #rated e #20k+#alternate universe #buddie recommendations #buddie au #911 abc #911 fanfiction

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steddie-island · 19 hours

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Tender Headed

I saw this post by @mothofmyth and couldn't stop myself. I hope this does your idea justice. ❤️ ao3 | Divider by @cafekitsune

Someone else was standing at Steve’s usual station, instead of his usual girl.

It wasn’t a girl at all.

“Hey! Do you have an appointment?” not-regular-stylist asked.

“No– yes? I, uh– I have a standing appointment. With Kayla?” Steve brushed his fingers through his hair and looked around at the otherwise empty salon.

He’d been looking forward to this for weeks, practically since the end of his last appointment. The thought of having to cancel, of having to reschedule because she was out sick or something– it made Steve’s skin feel too tight, itchy.

It made tears prick at his eyes like this was a bigger deal than just a stupid haircut.

Which. Okay, maybe it was for him, but it’s not like any of the stylists, like this stranger , needed to know that.

“Are you okay, man?”

Steve blinked, bringing the man back into focus again. He was pretty, with long curls piled up on top of his head and a delicate black hoop hanging from his septum. His cut off sleeves showed the ink decorating his arms and disappearing under the fabric.

He had to shake himself to bring the man’s voice back, to stop ogling him.

“--won’t be back for a few months,” he was explaining.

“What?” Steve knew this guy probably thought he was an idiot, but his mind was thick and sticky and nothing this guy was saying was sticking.

“Early maternity leave,” he said again, patiently. “I’m Eddie, I’m taking her station over while she’s gone.” He gestured to the empty salon again. “I don’t have any appointments right now, if you’re cool with a substitute…”

Steve almost turned around, but there was something about the wide brown eyes that fixed on him that made him stay.

“I… sure. Yeah.” It wasn’t like he was that attached to his hair anyway. Yeah, he wanted it to look good, but not to the point that everyone else thought he did.

It wasn’t about the haircut.

He followed Eddie back to the washing station. Even though this was a stranger who was going to be taking care of him, Steve still felt a shiver go through him as he got situated.

There were a few clinks, metal against ceramic. Steve tipped his head back enough to see Eddie removing several chunky rings and placing them in a little dish. A towel was rolled up carefully and placed beneath his neck.

“Tell me if this is too much.”

The water was cool, which Steve was prepared for. What he wasn’t prepared for was the way those long delicate fingers touched him. Kayla was gentle, but it was nothing like this.

The way Eddie scrubbed so carefully at his scalp made Steve melt. Each fingertip was so deliberate in its movements, in the way his hair was gathered back and brushed out of his face. Eddie’s fingers trailed over his ear and Steve had to bite his lip.

Maybe this was too much, but he couldn’t stop it.

He’d never been handled like this. No one had ever touched him like he was a delicate, breakable thing. Sure, he cuddled with Robin. He got to hug the kids, and Joyce, and Claudia.

But this was… something else.

Eddie wasn’t getting anything out of this– not the same way everyone else got something, like, paying him for his service was different, right?

Steve was going to see it as that, anyway. He imagined Eddie wasn’t touching him like this because he was getting a big tip from it.

He imagined that Eddie was brushing water off of his forehead with a knuckle because he just wanted to know what the skin felt like there. Those calloused fingers were tucking the hair behind his ears because he wanted to study the curve of his tragus– maybe wondering what Steve would look like with a hoop there, like the one in his own ear.

Eddie’s thumb was wiping away water from his cheeks because he wanted to know if Steve’s cheeks were rough with stubble or not, and not because this was just a professional courtesy.

Only maybe this wasn’t a professional courtesy.

Because it wasn’t just water that Eddie had sprayed on him. Steve was fucking crying .

He wanted to run, but before he could even get up Eddie was putting a damp hand on his shoulder.

“Stay. You’re okay.” Eddie’s voice was a low rumble that Steve wanted to hide in. “I’ve got you, big boy.”

How was Steve supposed to not listen to that? He settled back into the chair and let Eddie rinse away the shampoo. Then those nimble hands were working the conditioner into his hair just as gently. The touches were a little more solid now, though. Eddie’s fingers grazed his neck, touched his cheek, wiped more tears from his cheeks.

“You’re not the only person who comes in here for this.” Steve couldn’t even find the words to ask if he was that transparent. It wasn’t like the crying couldn’t have been from him being tender headed, or from the water being too hot. He was too focused on Eddie speaking to him to try to make excuses for himself.

Eddie’s voice was soft and low. It was comforting, and it wasn’t hard for Steve to imagine how he would sound if he were singing, the way the words would wrap around him. Would it make him feel the same way he felt with his hair wrapped around Eddie’s hands?

He was in the shampoo chair for three times as long as he normally would be. Eddie took his time with the conditioner and gave it extra time to sit. He was just as thorough about rinsing it, then about working a smoothing serum through his strands.

By the time Eddie was wrapping Steve’s hair loosely in a towel and sitting him up, Steve was feeling lighter than he’d felt in months. He figured he should have felt raw and vulnerable, and there was a little bit of that, but Eddie’s presence was calming. Maybe it was the way he chattered as he started working on Steve’s hair. He talked about other customers, about his uncle, about how he’d been doing his own hair for years. He even brought up the time he’d burnt his hair with bleach so bad he’d had to give himself a buzzcut, because that was better than the spongy mess he’d left himself with.

Steve started opening up, too, by the time Eddie was drying and styling his hair. He talked about his own worst haircut, about the time Robin had let him bleach her hair and she had ended up with a streak of green in her hair instead of blue. At least it had been cute, though.

Eddie spritzed Steve’s hair once… twice… a third and then a fourth time before smiling at their reflections in the mirror. This close, and without tears in his eyes, Steve could see the dimples in his cheeks.

“What do you think?” Eddie brushed his fingers over the ends of Steve’s hair, then dropped a hand to let the weight of it rest against his shoulder.

“I think it’s great.” Steve smiled back at him. It looked the same as it did when Kayla had worked on it, but he’d never looked this good before. Maybe it was the cut, or maybe it was just the way Eddie had put something bright back into his eyes.

Steve pulled his card out to pay but Eddie refused.

“I think we both needed today,” he’d said before smiling and sliding his card across the counter. “I hope you come back and see me sometime, Stevie. I’m happy to take care of you anytime.”

Normally Steve might take that as flirting– and maybe it was, the way Eddie’s dimples popped even more and his eyes really sparkled under the light. It wasn’t just flirting, though, and that made warmth blossom in Steve’s chest.

“Yeah, man. Definitely.” Steve tucked the card away and turned for the door. “Actually…” He looked back at Eddie, who had picked up the broom. “Do you maybe want to get a drink after work?”

Eddie’s grin was bright. “Hell yeah. Why do you think I didn’t charge you?” he teased. “I get off in an hour.”

Steve laughed with him. “Cool. I’ll see you in an hour, then.”

---

As it turned out, Steve didn’t need to come back in an hour because he hadn’t left yet. He was still there, helping Eddie clean things up. They talked about the kids Steve babysat, and Eddie pointed out that maybe it was okay for him to just say they were hanging out, because fifteen and sixteen year olds didn’t tend to need babysitters anymore.

They picked up food in Eddie’s van, and they drove to the quarry to eat sitting in the back of it, with the doors open and two milkshakes between them.

When they shared their first kiss that night it tasted like salt and fake strawberries. They parted ways with plans to see each other again the next day.

Maybe it was okay that Steve didn’t have a standing appointment with his usual stylist anymore.

#Steddie #Steddie fic #Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson #Stranger Things fic #kintsugi_kid ao3

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devine-fem · 2 days

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Hi! I saw that a little bit ago you said you might write an essay on jondami and if that's something you're still interested in doing I'd love to see your thoughts compiled in that way. No pressure though, I know it's a lot of work!

Okay, took me a bit but here it is: the long awaited essay on Damijon, get a snack and something nice to drink because this is going to be unapologetically long.

Misconceptions. Firstly, I don't know how else to explain that I personally don't exactly see Damian and Jon as children. I mean that they are older to me, and I feel this because with comic books when a character is a child that is their time for development and growing. With Robins they always have this inability to be allowed to grow up due to DC personally wanting Batman to always have a Robin in his arsenal. The thing with Damian and Jon is that they are made to reach a finish line. That finish line being Superman and Batman, which they cannot be before developing and growing into those mantles (if the writer is good and has common sense of course) first. We see that in DCeased, WW23 and other Damian books in the past that becoming Batman and Superman is an important topic for these characters, they have a long way to go. Admittedly, I do enjoy content as to where they are younger because that is where their dynamic peaked to me, I also think it's a very simple serotonin boost and if it's innocent then I really have no issue with indulging. But to me... that's not Damijon. Damijon is about friendship, Damijon is about always being able to seek and find in a certain person and I don't particularly care if this is platonic or romantic. It's important to remember that in canon, they are nothing but friends and I enjoy that all the same, but I also find it interesting to explore their dynamic if it was in a romantic context and that is what Damijon is all about to me. It's just "what would these two characters would do if they developed a different kind of affection towards the other." In my head, with as Damian is now, I doubt he'd be able to hold an intimate relationship without training wheels first and a very understanding partner. He's emotionally distant and he has this great fear of being abandoned which I think would suffocate the relationship. Children are confused and lost people who haven't found themselves yet and while Damian and Jon are both children... I don't exactly think there will be enough room for Jon's problems and Damian's problems as well. I also kind of struggle with wanted to rid them of their age gap, their age gap is just big enough to make it as if Damian has some authority over Jon. It makes it so eventually as Damian and Jon grew that Damian would be somewhat out of reach for Jon and perhaps, he could feel like he'd have to chase after Damian a bit when it comes to milestones and development. It makes them just a little bit more interesting and as I said, I don't exactly want to erase that.

A lot of people bring up the topic of maturity between these two but that would mean that Damian is more mature than Jon and you would know that this is not the case in the comics. The person who slings around insults is Damian, the person who acts brashly is Damian, the person or initiates fights is Damian. The immature one is Damian, he may act like he knows everything but he is a child, he’s incredibly immature and we should remember that.

Damian. It's particularly hard to describe both Jon and Damian separately for me at this point. To me they are something that should had never been separated. Something that comes as a set. Like one of them is missing the other when alone. The thing about Damian Wayne is that he spent his childhood years training to be a natural born winner. He never had a moment in Robin or Damian Al Ghul that let his life be truly his own. The thing about his relationship with both Talia and Bruce is that he feels as though he needs to earn affection and love, similar to how some children may feel this too after going through psychological abuse and neglect - this coming from both Bruce and Talia at times.

It should be noted that the comic that contains this panel is not a good representation of Talia and Damian's relationship but overall, this line is somewhat accurate and holds weight to their dynamic. Damian is someone who feels the need to earn his keep, it's instilled in his brain that basic things that others may get will not be given to him without him having to earn it first. Damian feels like he doesn't belong, like he's stuck between two worlds. He's burdened by constantly having a destiny, a path already carved into the ground for him. Jon. Jon is quite simple. His whole narrative revolves around similar themes as Damian to where Jon feels like he's not truly like his father but also not entirely like his mother. He wants to live up to being like his dad, but a lot of his own individualism gets lost in the process. He has this need to prove himself and make others proud. His upbring was simple and homey. Lois Lane and Clark thought that it'd be best to hide the fact that Clark is Superman and Jon is half kryptonian in order to provide him a mundane foundation as a person. There's not much to say about Jon alone because unfortunately his characterization was cut quite short. Let me talk about the age-up situation. Some people don't understand why this is such a bad thing for Jon's character, but I strongly believe that people of this opinion simply do not care about the character since this is character assassination in the most basic form. Jon's childhood was a very important part of his character as it is for literally all characters. That's where all his personality quirks and traits come in, that's where he can resonate with the audience the most, that's where his bonds with other characters are established. As Jon is now, he's being thrown into the finish line with no prior characterization. Jon's personality is going to be lost when writers pick him up, at times he even seems emotionless and purposeless. He is entirely unrecognizable to me. The only thing that has been established for him is his sexuality and his boyfriend and his solo revolved entirely around said boyfriend. The least they could do is make them good representation, but they aren't even that, sorry, it's jarringly obvious. And it's not just that its "getting in the way of my ship" because I don't want Jon and Damian to be canon, not really, not when this is how they treat a canonically queer character... look at what happened to Jon. I imagine that if they were to be canon then I'd find myself complaining about how DC can't do Jon and Damian's dynamic properly constantly. I don't have that much faith in them. It's disheartening that as a fan of him that I don't have as many good things of him that I do bad. The ship also suffers from this because it's literally about growing up beside someone and that childhood friends to lovers appeal.

Damian & Jon. A lot of time in Damian's stories because of his abrasiveness and offputting/distant personality, he finds it hard to make friends and sometimes it's not entirely the other person's fault. The thing about when he met Jon is that became a past time for him, he was someone who just wanted to be around - who actually went out of his way to be around him as well as they have a wholesome foundation for a friendship. Jon feels deeply for Damian as Damian feels deeply for him. Over and over again, Jon's life is threatened in some way which forces Damian to pull down his emotional walls and show that he does care for Jon.

It's established repeatably that Damian cares a lot for Jon because when he's in danger, he visually starts to panic. Even going as far as calling Jon by his first name which is rare for him because Damian calls everyone by their last name because he speaks very formally but when Jon gets hurt, Damian slips up to suddenly call him by his first name.

Damian was so shaken up that he accidentally calls Jon his friend afterwards, which is important to note because he has always refused to acknowledge their friendship for stubborn reasons. Also to note Damian's stubbornness I'd also like to mention the time where Damian refused to acknowledge Jon could join the teen titans, every time Jon proposed the idea, Damian shut him down till it came the time to vote on whether or not Jon does join the titans and Damian was literally the only person who raised his hand.

This was one of the moments I was most frustrated with Damian because all that arguing with Jon was truly just to annoy him and nothing more, he secretly believed Jon could join the titans the entire time but when it came down to it-

He only made himself and Jon look stupid and proceeds to brush off their friendship once again. I have to admit it is slightly interesting even when frustrating. As for Jon, yes, they bumped heads at first and Jon found himself getting extremely frustrated with Damian's attitude, but it was mostly because Damian is someone, he knows he's going to have to spend a lot of time working besides and he only wanted to be his friend while Damian seemed uninterested.

The thing about these two is that whether they like it or not, they will have to spend their entire lives beside each other. This is something no other dynamic in DC can really replicate. We know Jon feels deeply for Damian, it wasn't able to be verbalized often unfortunately but he has mentioned how highly he thinks of Damian, calling him "the strongest person I know" - stronger than him by far. He's one of the few characters that want to see Damian as he is and doesn't want anything from him, he just likes being around Damian.

And for Damian one of the few ways he knows to provide to Jon is taking him away and going on missions with him, it's kind of sad to think about how this is one of the few ways he knows how to express that he wants to be around Jon. He's gotten up in the middle of the night, went across the city and met up with Jon to hang out with him.

It's sad, yes, but also really sweet. A lot of characters assume the worst for Damian and think that he's bound to end up being the worst version of himself or think he's like a ticking time bomb ready to explode at any moment.

But instead, Jon refuses to acknowledge that Damian can be evil at all, denying entire alternate realities where Damian is slowly becoming the worst version of himself because he deeply believes that in Damian's heart, he could never be anything less than great. Their mantles. Not to talk about DCeased but yes, I will be talking about DCeased because that is the perfect example of how these characters function to me.

This comic showed his the long, excruciating, and lonely years these two would have to face in disaster. The trauma of losing everything, your family and your world and moving mantles to stop it but it being something they had to do together. Like a grave already buried in the ground for them but they laid in it together as kids and adults. If you truly want to understand this ship I deeply think you should turn on your brain and read DCeased.

How they contrast. Jon and Damian's are distinctly different, their personalities are different, their upbringing is different, and what they deeply identify with is different. This is why at times they may argue but at the end of the day, they have to share their life with the other.

How they compare.

At times where they may think they are alone or have no one to talk to then they will always have each other, they're supposed to, that's what their relationship is built on. Understand that in the most basic sense that these two are platonic soulmates. They will be there for each other at the beginning.

And at the end.

They share this great burden together, they share similar paths, fears, worries and goals. They will always be together even when one of them might not want to be because the worst thing you can be when all of these things are happening to you; is alone. Their lives tell the same story just in different places and perspectives, sometimes their most defining moments directly mirror each other.

They both feel like they don’t belong and like they’re stuck between two worlds as well. For Jon, it’s Krypton and Earth, for Damian, its Batman and Al Ghul.

Their mantles supply this destiny they share. It’s what will bring them together and pull them apart.

I feel the need to mention that Jon is one of two characters that sees Damian beyond the son of batman, Damian has said “Well, If I am almost Batman.” and Jon said “You’re so much more than that.”

Damian said “Do you have a better offer?” and Jon said “Well, I have you.”

… I have to love them.

Their relationship with one another platonically. They have the friendship to end all friendships. It quite literally transcends space and time. Regardless of if you like Jon and Damian being friends in the first place or not, you cannot deny that what Jon has done for Damian is not important.

Like I said with Damian, he feels as though the love that he receives has to be earned but when he met Jon, he was introduced to the idea that someone wanted to simply be around him, that someone wanted to be his friend and love him unconditionally. You cannot deny that this friendship helped develop these two in very good directions, not only are these two entertaining but they help each other progress by simply being around the other.

They give to each other what other people can’t. Dick Grayson even admits that Jon sees something in Damian that other people like to ignore. This is very important. Now Jon’s relationship to Damian could help him as well, knowing Damian could grant him an extra layer of empathy and understanding, it already does and he can use what he’s learned from Damian in the future.

Damian teaches Jon what it means to be a hero, Jon teaches Damian what it means to be a kid. Damian shows Jon what love has been and Jon shows Damian what love can be. It’s very compelling. These are two lost people who make each other feel accepted and normal.

The potential of their relationship romantically.

Imagining what it would be like if DC was capable of allowing these two to engage in a romantic relationship with the other is compelling. Firstly, I highly doubt that DC will ever properly portray these two’s relationship with the other if they did pull the trigger.

But in the fantasy world where everything is perfect, I think it’d be nice for these characters to have a relationship free of their narratives. To be allowed to be confused about their feelings and even reject them; to have us as an audience be able to watch these two slowly navigate it over time and especially with them both being same sex, I feel like DC just showing that they’re not afraid to portray that type of relationship between character directly under one of their biggest names is certainly heartwarming.

Jon coming to terms with liking boys and having a crush on someone the same gender as him while also struggling to have that perfect american life that his father’s narrative values so much and that confusing him.

Damian struggling with his feelings and allowing himself to not feel like he’s doing something wrong by falling in love with another person.

And perhaps this love being catalyst for them to want to grow up to be distinctly different from their fathers, to carve a path for themselves because they realize that they are their own person and can’t be entirely perfect for everyone else but just perfect enough for each other.

The wasted potential of the characters overall. Super Sons was a very important comic book, it supplied things for Damian fans that was starved of us. If you look at the internet before Super Sons you will see people complaining about how Damian's stories do not contain a certain element to it which was entirely fixed by Super Sons being created, Super Sons left much to be desired. I still think that series was meant to go on for way longer than it did and contain a lot of meaningful stories for the both of them so it's a real shame that it was cut short.

Unfortunately, even though some writers want to separate Jon and Damian, they’ll never fully be able to because of how engraved Damian is into Jon’s character. Damian is one of Jon’s core personality traits because overall, he is greatly lacking so they’ll never be able to be truly separated. It’s safe to say that his character is ruined and the only way for you to like it is to have bad taste in media.

Why I personally think it’s so good. All of these things I mentioned are not really given to you with other ships like Timkon, Superbat, etc. Nothing speaks to me like this and if you really understood it then you'd know that all of these things are entirely different. Damijon in canon is literally what people think Superbat is, the way that people want Clark to provide release and catharsis to Bruce is literally done for Damijon in canon. Between Superbat, Timkon and Damijon, Damijon evidently has the strongest bond/is allowed to have the strongest bond, these characters distinctly have an effect on the other that cannot be replicated with the others. Not to put these two ships down but it's evident, I've always been against the idea that Timkon and Superbat are similar to Damijon because they just aren't literally at all.

I truly believe that if Jon and Damian weren’t Superman and Batman’s sons then I’d still ship them anyway, I also think with unfortunately the way that DC is dealing with Jon’s character that if Damian was allowed to have a relationship akin to his with Jon’s something almost exactly mirroring Jon and Damian then I’d drop Damijon instantly… but… till that day.

Damian and Jon make each other happy in the purest way possible and till that stops I think I’m shipping that.

What to check out if you’re interested in it. I made a reading list for these two a while back.

#jondami #damijon #damian wayne #super sons #jon kent #supersons #jonathan kent #cosmicbird #superdemon #damijon essay #asks #dc comics #superfam #batfam

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