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#anyway.. can you tell i want to gif them but i don't know WHAT to gif
minkyungseokie · 2 days
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When Nothing Goes Right | LS2
synopsis; Y/n, Logan's long-distance gf, surprises him at the AusGP, but things aren't as happy as they should be
warnings; none
note; requested
note 2; Y/n has no mentioned race but doesn't know English. Jackson is an Oc and the reader’s older brother
Let me know whether you prefer first person or third person pov Please be nice. I haven't written in years and this is my first time writing for F1
Autosports Masterlist | Main Masterlist
I do not give anyone permission to change, copy, or put my work on any other platform. It will only be on top, so if you see it, please report it. Or let me know.
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It had been a few years since Y/n and Logan had begun dating. The two met as children after Y/n had started karting herself. They immediately hit off and stuck to each other like glue. Wherever Y/n was, you'd find Logan not far behind with a big smile on his face.
Their families could already tell that the two would be something more in the future. Your older siblings even started a bet on how long it would take for the two to fully understand their feelings and confess. Neither of them won because it only took them until the sixth grade to realize that what they felt wasn't platonic. They didn't understand their feelings fully, but they knew that they were no one just friends.
Everything has been perfect until Logan's career in karting began popping off and he soon entered F4. To make matters worse, Y/n's parents had split and decided that Y/n would go with her mother back to their home country. Dalton and Jackson thought it'd ruin the relationship the two youngest siblings had built and they'd break up, which would break the two since they were madly in love even if they fully couldn't understand what love was, but that wasn't the case.
Despite the distance between them, Y/n and Logan had decided to stay together and find long distance a try even though their parents, siblings, friends, cousins, and neighbours warned them that long distance was hard. Even people online said that long distance wasn't the best idea because it tended to end with one or both partners cheating on each other, however; Y/n and Logan trusted each other with their lives, so they decided to give it a chance.
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Now, Logan was a driver in Formula One and Y/n was studying at Uni. During their time apart, they'd only seen each other at least twice. Even though they haven't seen each other properly in years, they have only grown fonder of each other.
As the saying goes, "Distance makes the heart grow fonder"
Y/n plopped down on her bed in nothing but a towel, answering a FaceTime call that came in on her computer, "Hey, you." Y/n greeted happily, "Hey, babe. I'm sorry to call you so late. I know you're probably busy and tired from work..." Logan sighed. "No! You're fine, love. I just got out of the shower. Anyway, what's up?" Y/n asked, removing the towel off her head and running a hand through her hair, "Nothing much. I just wanted to see you." Logan flirted, giving Y/n a smile.
Y/n stood up from the bed and began towelling herself off, "That's cute. If I'm not wrong, the Australian GP is coming up. How do you feel?" Y/n questioned. "I'm excited. To be honest, I want doing well last year. But it's a new year and you know how I worked hard during the break, so I'm ready. Speaking of the Australian GP, do you think that you can come watch?" Logan hesitantly asked, looking down before looking back at Y/n, who was now sitting on her bed in pyjamas.
"I...Logie, you know I'd love to..." Y/n hesitantly started, "I know. You have work and school, but you have never come to a GP before. I want you to come to support me at least once. But I understand. I don't want to force or coerce you to do anything you can't or don't want to do. You'll eventually come to one, right?" Logan asked. "Of course. I plan on coming as soon as I have the time to." Y/n promised.
She kept thinking about the fact that she had never attended one of Logan's races and began feeling like a shit girlfriend, so she ended up DMing Logan's childhood friend whom she had only heard about from Logan, Oscar Piastri and he somehow got her in contact with Alex Albon, Logan's teammate. Together the three made plans to sneak Y/n into the GP without Logan noticing.
It wasn't hard.
She had notified her job and her school of her trip and packed for Australia. She got on a plane as soon as she could, which ended up being the afternoon of FP2,dropped her things off at the hotel, leaving it behind the desk so she could share a room with Logan, and made her way to the track with a VIP pass in her hand.
The girl was practically vibrating as she walked through the paddock by herself. She was supposed to be looking for Oscar or Alex, but she was way too excited to see her boyfriend again. Luckily, Alex spotted her while she was roaming the paddock, "Hey! You're Y/n, right? Logan's girlfriend?" The man asked, approaching her, "Oh, yes. You must be Alex. The teammate." Y/n said, holding out a hand for Alex to shake.
The British Thai driver looked down at her hand before taking it and giving it a firm shake, "It's lovely to meet you. Logan's been talking about you. A lot." Alex said, jokingly rolling his eyes as if he was annoyed, but he truthfully enjoyed seeing his teammate talk about someone who made him happy and kept him sane while he was having a shit year. "Hey, mate. Is this her?" Another voice asked, but this time it was with a strong Australian accent.
Y/n turned to see a brunette in an orange and black shirt approaching them, "You must be the Oscar Piastri that I heard so much about." Y/n said, reaching out fit his hand. Oscar smiled and shook her hand, "I am. You must be Y/n. Logan talks about you a lot." Oscar commented. "So I've been told. It's lovely seeing something other than the pictures Logan sent to me when you guys were younger." Y/n chuckled.
"Come on. FP2 is starting soon and we want you to reunite as quickly as possible." Alex said, leading you towards the garage with Oscar following behind, "So how long have you two been together?" Oscar questioned. "We've been dating for eleven years, I believe. Since we were twelve." Y/n answered, "Eleven years! That's a long time." Alex awed
Once they were close by, Y/n’s heart began to race. She hid behind Alex and Oscar so she was hidden while Oscar pulled out his phone to film the interaction, “Logan, mate! Come here.” Alex called, “What? Do you need something?” Logan asked, voice getting closer as he walked up to them. “We noticed you were feeling a bit nervous, so we brought you something to cheer you up.” Oscar spoke, “What is it?” Logan asked, narrowing his eyes. “Why don’t you guess?” Alex suggested, “Just tell me.” Logan said, “Come on, have a bit of fun with it. Guess.” Alex insisted.
“Just give me whatever it is, mate.” Logan groaned, Y/n chuckled and tapped the boys on their arms, signaling for them to step aside. Logan watched as Alex and Oscar shared a look before stepping aside to reveal his girlfriend. Logan’s jaw dropped and his eyes widened, “Surprise!” Y/n cheered, giving the American jazz hands. Logan ran towards Y/n and scooped her up into his arms.
“You’re here! You told me—“ “That I wouldn’t be able to come. I lied.” Y/n said, burying her face into his shoulder. Logan put her on the ground and bent down, kissing Y/n softly, “I’ve missed you so much.” He muttered, “And I’ve missed you, my love.” Y/n responded, kissing all over Logan’s face. “Logan, Alex, it’s time for free practice.” A engineer called out, “Go out there and do your thing. I’ll be rooting for you.” Y/n said, cupping Logan’s face and connecting their lips.
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Y/n stood in the garage with headphones covering her ears. She couldn’t understand why she never came to a race weekend before, it was exhilarating. She could tell that her boyfriend wasn’t the best on the grid, but she knew he want the worse. It was just amazing to see him in his element, “Go, Logan!” Y/n muttered, clenching the chord between her fingers.
Y/n frowned as an odd feeling settled in her stomach. Y/n put a hand on her stomach and focused on the screen, attempting to ignore the feeling. Something was going to go wrong and she didn’t know what or when. Unfortunately, she didn’t have to wait too long to find out because Alex crashed his car, “Oh shit.” Y/n hissed, biting down in her knuckle.
“Hey, Alex. Are you alright?” Y/n asked, looking at the British Thai driver with concern. “I’m fine.” Alex answered walking away, obviously upset by the accident.
Y/n couldn’t help but feel bad for him, knowing that it absolutely sucks to crash even if she never watched or read up on the sport before.
Y/n made took off her headphones as Logan came back to the garage and jogged up to the American man, “That was so cool! I feel sorry for Alex, but that was so cool! I can’t wait to see you actually racing.” Y/n rambled, grabbing Logan’s hands on hers. While she rambled, Logan just smiled down at her with the softest gaze, “Do you want to go out after this? Or we can go to my hotel room? Have you gotten yourself one?” Logan asked, cupping your cheek.
“We should stay in. Catch up everything we missed and couldn’t talk about on the phone and no, I don’t have my own hotel room. Although, if I did, it probably won’t be getting used.” Y/n tittered. “Let me go get changed and we can go back to the hotel.” Logan said, kissing Y/n’s forehead before rising off to his driver’s room.
Y/n waited and waited, but it seemed like Logan was not coming out, which worried her. Did he get hurt or something? What was teasing so long? Y/n was leaning against the side of the garage, waiting for any sign of her boyfriend, but there was nothing. Until Alex came out, looking conflicted, “Hey, Alex. Where’s Logan?” Y/n questioned, pushing off the wall, “Um, he’s on his drivers room. He’s, uh, not happy right now, so maybe it’s better if you go see him.” Alex suggested.
He pointed out which room was his and continue on with his day, which didn’t really seem out of the ordinary to Y/n. She approached his door and knocked gently, “Logan? Is it alright if I come in?” Y/n called in a gentle voice. It was quiet for a moment before she heard a croaky, “Yeah.” Come from inside.
Y/n opened the door to see Logan sitting on the bench looking distressed, “Oh, what happened? Are you okay? Alex told me you were upset.” Y/n rushed over to her boyfriend, bombarding him with questions out of worry. Logan shook his head, “Alex wrecked his car,” Logan started, “Yeah, I saw that, but what does that have to do with you?” Y/n questioned, kneeling down in front of Logan and grabbing his hands.
“We don’t have a spare chassis, so they’re taking mine and giving it to Alex.” Logan sighed, “What?!” Y/n practically screeched, her confusion and weird turning into anger. “They said that since Alex is the better and more experienced driver, he most likely get the team points.” Logan explained further, “That’s stupid.” Y/n said bluntly, “Y/n…”
“No, don’t “Y/n…” me. I get that Alex it’s better and has more experience, but that’s that dumbest fucking decision I’ve ever heard. That’s like rewarding someone for fucking shit up! He crashed his chassis to the point where it had to be retired, so you have to give up yours? That’s bullshit, Logan!” Y/n argued. “I’m aware. I’ve given my all to this team. I worked myself to the bone during winter break when I could’ve been with you because I wanted it to be beneficial to this team. They are all aware of it.
James said he believed in me. James said he knew that I could go far if I just had a little more time in the car. But it doesn’t seem that way. Maybe I’m just not good enough.” Logan sniffed. Y/n wrapped her arms around Logan’s neck, placing his head on her chest and rubbing his back, “Shut up, Logan. Don’t you dare continue saying those things about yourself. You are good enough. If you weren’t, you would have been chosen for this team in the first place.”
“But—“
“No buts. The previous Williams owner saw something in you that no one else saw and picked you from Formulas Two to drive in Formula One. If you weren’t good enough, he most definitely wouldn’t have chosen you so early. James know he’s dead wrong for this. James know that this is going to be a blow to you, but he thinks getting points is more valuable than your growth. I’m sorry to say this, my love, but you honestly deserve so much better. It’s not your fault that Alex crashed the car. It’s not your fault that this team is so broke that it can’t afford another chassis.” Y/n angrily said, raising her voice before taking a deep breath.
“I’m sorry. You’re upset and I’m over here ranting.” Y/n quieted down, pressing a kiss too the crown of Logan’s head, “It’s okay, babe. It’s what has to be done for the team to gain some points. It’s whatever.” Logan shrugged, “ no, it’s not whatever, but I’m not gonna continue talking about this. Instead, let’s go to the hotel and order food. We can watch our favorite movies together and cuddle until you feel better.” Y/n said, lifting Logan’s head so his eyes met her and giving him a calming smile.
Logan smiled, albeit it was a sad one, but a smile nonetheless, “I’d like that.” He said, “Good. And since you’re not racing tomorrow, maybe we can do a bit more than cuddling. But that’s only if you’re comfortable and willing.” Y/n teased, pulling Logan up from his seated position, “I’d really like that. Thank you for being here for me and I’m sorry you came all this way only to not see me race.” Logan apologized, “Bah, I do anything for you. It doesn’t matter whether you are racing or not, I’m still here for you and I’d still come. Y/n waved off his apology
“I love you.”
“Love you too. Now let’s go.”
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sansaorgana · 3 days
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Hello love! I simply adore your writing and I was wondering if I could get a Gale Cleven x reader who's dealing with infertility? Probably something angsty? If not, that's totally fine. I'm just having a bit of a rough day :/
hi, sweetheart! 🥺 I'm sorry that you're having a rough day... I am trying to write these stories chronologically but I decided to write this one today so you don't have to wait too long 😊 btw I know that we treat Buck as a fictional character here but as far as I am concerned, real Buck Cleven never had children – at least I've never seen them mentioned anywhere like Bucky's daughters or Crosby's kids 🤔
my inbox is open for blurb/short fic requests for major cleven 🤗
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You didn’t want to go there at all but you knew that you should leave the house finally for your own mental health. Buck was looking worried about you, too, and you wanted to show him that you were slowly getting better after your last miscarriage. But the truth was that some part of you was dying with each one of them.
For the first time it had been sad but not devastating yet – it was common to happen after all. Second time had started to make you worry. Third and fourth had only been a confirmation of your fear – you wouldn’t give your husband a child and you wouldn’t become a mother unless someone comes up with a magical cure.
Your best friend Eva was the only person who had known about it and she was as worried as Buck was. When one of your and Eva’s friends, Nancy, had decided to throw a tea party, Eva insisted on taking you there. So you dressed up and let her take you in her car as Buck watched from the window with a faint smile.
Eva was an independent woman. After her husband’s death in the war she decided not to marry again. She got her own car and managed most things on her own. She was a wild and free spirit and she never wanted to have children so as much as you appreciated her effort to help you – you knew that she would never fully understand your struggle.
The tea party took place at Nancy’s house. There were a few other women and you all sat by the table and sipped on the warm beverage from the china set Nancy had gotten for her wedding. She looked excited and her eyes were sparkling all the time as she was smiling widely. Eventually, you found out the reason behind that.
“So, I wanted you all to come here because… Because I have something to tell you, girls,” she giggled and all the women looked at her, curiously.
You felt a knot forming in your stomach. You already felt what it was.
“I’m pregnant!” She announced and everyone cheered. You did too, forcing a smile. Eva’s hand found yours under the table and squeezed yours to show you a silent support.
You felt tears forming in the corners of your eyes. You got angry at Eva for convincing you to come here but it wasn’t her fault after all, she couldn’t know… You looked around and realised that all other women in the room had children already or were pregnant. Except for you and Eva but she didn’t count since she didn’t want to become a mother anyway.
But the worst hadn’t happened yet.
“Now it’s (Y/N)’s turn,” Nancy smiled at you and you put the cup down with a shaky hand.
“Stop pushing her,” Eva reacted immediately.
“Don’t be like this, Eva. You hope she will never be a mother so you won’t be alone in this,” Nancy’s sister, Hannah, snapped at her.
“We don’t really think about having children, Buck and I,” you smiled nervously and the women looked at each other.
“My husband didn’t want them either but I convinced him,” Janis grinned at you, thinking that her words were in any way helpful.
“We just don’t…” you started and your voice broke. Eva jumped in the conversation quickly.
“Stop pushing her!” She insisted angrily.
“I’m only saying, he can wait but she cannot,” Nancy shrugged her arms.
You didn’t want to make a scene and leave after that so you only pretended to be more interested with the piece of cake on your plate although swallowing it was extremely difficult with a gulp in your throat. You waited about half an hour before nodding at Eva discreetly.
“It’s time for us,” she stood up and grabbed her purse. “I promised Buck to take her back home by eight.”
“These officers, they are all about discipline,” you chuckled while excusing yourself and picked your purse up as well. “Can’t have my Major waiting too long.”
You left the house as fast as possible and waited for Eva by her car.
“I’m sorry, darling,” she told you when she finally joined you. “I had no idea.”
“Let’s not… Let’s not talk about it, alright?” You sniffed back the tears and she nodded, furrowing her eyebrows at you but respecting your wish to stay silent.
In fact, you both remained silent for the whole ride home and she only kissed your cheek when she parked by your lawn and you jumped out of the car to go back inside and hide from the world.
Buck was in the living room, crouching down next to the TV set with a screwdriver in his hand as he worked on some adjustments. You smiled through the tears and leaned on the wall, shyly.
“You’re back already?” He mumbled without looking up.
“Yeah, it was no fun,” you answered. “What are you on about again, Buck?”
“The signal keeps being bad, I can fix that, I think,” he explained.
“Just don’t hurt yourself and, most importantly, don’t break the TV,” you sighed, trying to be in a playful and teasing mood but it was difficult, especially while seeing him – the man you loved… whom you couldn’t give a child.
You burst into tears all of sudden and Buck looked up, worryingly.
“Hey, baby, what’s wrong?” He put the screwdriver down and approached you as quickly as possible to put his hands on your shoulders.
“Nancy… She… She’s pregnant,” you told him and he sighed before pulling you closer and pressing your face to his chest.
“I’m sorry, darling…” He rubbed your back, not knowing what to say.
“And she asked about us not having a baby of our own…” You tugged on his shirt.
“That is none of that woman’s business why we don’t have a baby of our own,” you heard Buck’s voice getting more stern and angry.
“I know… I told her we don’t want babies… I didn’t know what else to say…” You explained.
“It’s alright,” he shushed you and kissed the top of your head.
“No, it’s not…” You looked up with your wet eyes and makeup running down your face. You could see the pain on his face from witnessing you this way and you hated to bring him sadness, too, but you couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. “She said you have time but I am running out of it.”
Buck’s jaw clenched at the words. He hated when anyone was hurting you either with words or actions – no matter if it was a man or woman.
“Nancy’s never been a bright girl, you know that, baby?” He cupped your wet cheeks and leaned in closer to your face. You nodded, unsurely. “Girls like her only care about keeping a husband at home and showing off in town.”
“But I care about keeping a husband, too,” you gasped.
Buck sighed and shook his head, looking for the right words.
“Come here, baby,” he lowered his hands to hold yours as he led you on the sofa and sat you on his lap. You threw your arms around his neck and he pulled you closer by your hip and thigh. “How many times do I have to tell you, sweetheart, that you’re all I want? Only you,” he pecked your lips softly. “You make me the happiest already. Having a baby with you would be only an addition, it’s already perfect the way it is. If we have a baby, I’ll be happy. But if we don’t, I’ll be just as much satisfied,” he explained to you. “And I won’t let anyone say bad things about my beautiful and wonderful wife.”
“Buck…” Your lower lips trembled. “It brings me comfort to know you don’t really care about it but…”
“It’s not that I don’t care. Don’t say that,” he interrupted you. “I care.”
“I know, I’m sorry… But I want this baby. I want to have a baby with you more than anything in the world. I am glad you’ll be as happy without it but I don’t think I will be…” You looked down, ashamed of your confession.
Buck stayed silent for a while, caressing you and keeping you close as he rested his chin on your head and sighed.
“I know, my sweet girl, you just want a baby to love and take care of, right?”
“Yes…” You nodded. “And… And I hate how jealous I get when I see other women with babies or being pregnant. It brings the worst out of me and I don’t like this version of me.”
“Shh, hey, love, there are lots of babies out there who want a mummy to love them and take care of them just as much, you know?” He asked in a soft whisper and you looked up at him.
“What are you suggesting? That we should adopt?” You raised an eyebrow at him.
“Only if you want to,” he nodded and raised his hand to caress your head gently. “I want you to be happy, darling. That’s all I want, nothing else. I hate to see you so sad all the time,” he confessed and smiled sadly.
“It would be lovely to adopt a baby but I’m scared it won’t be the same… Because I want to have your baby, Gale… Ours,” you fixed yourself.
“You know that I’d do everything to make your dream come true, I really would. But some things… They’re just impossible to happen sometimes, you know that, baby?” Buck kissed your forehead. “We can keep trying and trying but it kills me to see you getting even sadder each time it happens.”
You only hummed to yourself and squeezed him tighter. A decision to adopt a baby couldn’t be made in the heat of the moment, you had to think about it more thoroughly. But your husband had a point. You also hated to make him worried so much about you and the fact that he himself would be as happy without having a child with you was bringing you lots of comfort. It would be way worse if he wanted this baby more than anything else.
“I have to heal after the recent loss first,” you whispered to him after a while, “and then we’ll talk about it again, how about that?”
“Sounds about right,” Buck caressed your cheeks with his thumbs and leaned in to place a soft kiss on your lips.
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stormyoceans · 2 years
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vegas being fascinated by pete >> vegaspete teaser vs episode 10
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ronanlynchbf · 7 months
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hell day today and i'm only two hours into my EIGHT HOUR SHIFT
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#9 to 5 by dolly parton starts playing in the background..#literally had to open up shop alone 2day and also was entirely alone for the first 45 min. of my shift so that was already a negative start#to the day + i heard that i can't have my break later than two thirty which is very bad for me bc 1) there'll be a lot of ppl all around me#when i'm eating which i already dislike and 2) like 85% of ppl taking their break around that time are VERY noisy eaters so even worse and#then 3) it'll be really loud in the room as well bc everyone's talking loudly and eating and the cutlery's clanging against plates and such#and also some ppl have actual full-blown arguments with each other in the break room bc half the ppl here hate each other's guts so more#negatives to the day and then on top of that we've had sooooo many annoying customers already today who r just. intent on making u stressed#out and upset and literally will tell u to your face to 'do your job better' like bro...i can easily tell you haven't worked in retail....#also someone hung their clothes on the rack outside the fitting rooms which is where u hang ur clothes when you're DONE fitting them & don'#want them bc they don't fit or don't sit right or u just don't rlly like them after all so if clothes are hanging there we the ppl working#there WILL take them and hang them back in their original places what did u expect to happen?? anyway someone hung the clothes they had#tried on already and did want there and i reached out to take them bc like. that's what we do here..we hang the clothes on the 'discard#rack' back in the store bc else the rack gets stuffed and the woman literally grabbed my arm and said 'those are mine what do u think you'r#doing' LIKE?????? GIRL THE RACK'S THERE FOR A REASONNNN ofc i'm going to assume u don't want them anymore if they're hanging there that's#why it's called the DISCARD rack....also how am i to know those specific clothes are yours HONESTLYYYYYY STFU AND GET OFF ME#ALSO some dude was like (to his child but like. looking at me while he said it.) 'this guy needs a haircut doesn't he' bc my hair is kinda#long and apparently i passed today. LIKE 1st of all kind of a rude thing to say to a stranger innit 2nd of all setting a great example to#your child there just casually commenting on other ppl's looks like that👍 3rd of all jokes on you you wouldn't consider me a guy if#you Knew most likely. thanks for that little zing of glee much obliged <3 but also man just piss off will you. 4th of all my hair isn't eve#that long....like the ends of it are just shy of my shoulders wdym LONG if u knew the long-haired guys i know you'd faint.#anyway. great start of the day. i still have six more hours to go 🥴#ALSO no surprise this always happens but my legs already hurt SOOOOOOOO BADDDDDD :(((((((((((#r.txt
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kamaluhkhan · 2 months
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THE GRUDGE (or: the 7 things luke castellan hated about you)
read part two GET HIM BACK! (or: the 7 reasons you want revenge on luke castellan)
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pairing: luke castellan x child of nemesis!reader (gender not specified)
word count: 8.5k
summary: luke hated your guts. he really did. he just hoped that no one could tell how, even after all this, you're still everything to him.
warnings/disclaimer: luke's POV. spoilers for the lightning thief and season 1 of pjo. some heated make-out sessions but no actual smut - MDNI / 18+. mentions of blood + death + alcohol. luke is 19 during tlt but i wrote this with him + reader being 21 by the end of this (this is important for the next part lol). anyways, luke + reader share clothes and lots of intense emotions they maybe possibly don't process in the best way. lots of ANGST - it's a greek tragedy fr!
author's note: welcome to my new hyperfixation! this fic is LONG but i hope she's worth it ♡
♪: the grudge by olivia rodrigo
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(i. you have a sharp tongue)
fourteen year old luke was overwhelmed when he first stepped into the hermes cabin. it was loud and overcrowded and no one really seemed to care that they had a new cabinmate. the head counselor showed luke to an empty bed at the back, told him to get settled in, and left without another word. luke dropped his backpack before collapsing on the mattress. it was so thin that he could feel the springs dig into his back.
"you'll get used to it."
luke sat up to see you climbing through the window. 
you had a band-aid stuck on your chin, chipped nail polish the color of blackberries, and leather combat boots that looked way too heavy to be wearing in the heat of summer. 
“the shitty mattress?”
“i meant the whole chaos of cabin 11, and the way things work around here in general. if you can get used to the shitty mattress, all power to you.” 
your tone was friendly enough, playful even. you smiled at him so comfortably it made luke nauseous. 
“good to know.” he tried to smile back at you, but his heart wasn’t in it. “i’m luke, by the way.”
“yeah, i know. i’m —”
“y/n!”
you seemed entirely unfazed as the blond who called your name stormed over to you. you rolled your eyes, something only luke could notice, before turning to her.
“someone stole my candy.”
“i’m very sorry to hear that, maddy. gotta be careful around here.” your voice dripped like poisoned honey, deceptively innocent and sweet.
maddy was not having it. she huffed at you. “it was you, wasn’t it?”
“that depends. did you cheat at poker last night? again?” 
some of the chatter throughout the cabin paused, heads turning to listen in. 
“what? n-no!” 
“then you have your answer, maddy.” you exaggerated a sigh, as though you had already won the fight and were annoyed that she came back for more. “now, if you’ll excuse me, i have a new camper to show around.”
chiron had already given them a tour, but luke didn’t protest when you grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the window with you. your hand was warm in his as you dragged him along to the corner of the cabin where a poorly made ladder waited for you. 
“come on.” you started climbing, and only stopped to look down when you realized luke wasn’t following you. “best view of camp. trust me.”
a shiver passed through luke. trust didn’t come easy to him. he also didn’t particularly want to return to a stuffy cabin where all he would do was count reasons he did not want to be there.
 so, luke followed you. he sat down next to you on the roof and looked out at the sun shining on his new home, but he couldn't help but be slightly bitter. the gods had gotten all of you into this life of endless danger and battles and monsters, and this was all they had to offer in return: a summer camp. 
it just didn't seem fair. 
there was something else he noticed then. what was it that chiron had said? camp half-blood was supposed to be a safe haven for all demigods. 
“i don’t get it. there are only twelve cabins, but aren’t there, like, a million other gods?”
you straightened your posture then, and turned to luke with a newfound interest. 
“camp half-blood only has cabins representing the twelve olympians. apparently, they’re the only ones important enough to have children worth recognizing, and they can’t even do that half the time,” you explained, impertinence laced throughout your words. it seemed like something you could never quite get off your chest. 
every  demigod knew that the gods didn’t appreciate sarcasm. they  didn’t particularly like being called out on their bullshit, either.
you didn’t seem to care; you even rolled your eyes up at the sky, as if challenging zeus himself. 
“anyways, that’s why the hermes cabin is so crowded. it takes in campers who are unclaimed or whose parent doesn’t have a cabin at camp. like me.”
“so, who’s your godly parent?”
you fiddled with the leather cord on your neck. it held a few clay beads like the other campers, but there was one silver charm he noticed only you wore — scales, by the looks of it. you clutched onto it.
luke realized that, despite your own advice, maybe you resented having to get used to the way things worked around here, and having to hide your resentment. maybe that was worse than having to sleep on an uncomfortable bed for the rest of your life.
"nemesis. goddess of revenge."
"that's....hardcore."
you scoffed and moved on to twisting the silver ring on your index finger. "a lot of people take it that way, and i think it scares them a bit.”
“so that’s why you’re extra nice to new campers, huh?” 
“no, i was just in a good mood today.” you smirked.
“guess i was just lucky, then.”
luke couldn’t help but smile at your laugh — sharp, biting. you nudged your boot against his sneaker, which shifted you closer to him, shoulders practically touching. 
“what people don’t understand is that it's more about balance, you know? you do good things, and good things happen to you. at least, they should. you do bad things and….” you pulled out an outrageously big bag of candy, dropped it between you and luke, and winked at him. “you face the consequences.” 
“that makes sense.” luke leaned over to grab a handful of gummy bears. “like karma.”
“yeah. exactly.” 
you bit the head off a red bear, both of you chewing in silence before you added:
“by the way, i’m sorry about your friend.” you swallowed and caught luke’s gaze. 
chiron warned him that word would travel fast around camp about what happened to thalia, and luke had prepared himself for anything — anything but your reaction. there was no pity in your eyes; instead, there was a hint of rage, as though thalia had been your friend, too. 
“she deserved more.” 
luke’s eyes caught the glint of a knife strapped to your belt. he took another handful of the candy you stole, and he thought about the fire and fearlessness behind your words, and, despite everything, it felt right to be with you then and there. 
“yeah,” he finally whispered back. “she did.”
we all do. 
neither of you said those words, but the suggestion was there, and it felt like a promise. 
(ii. you hold on to every stupid, little detail)
“slow down, tiger.” 
your voice echoed throughout the arena, and if luke had been fighting a real opponent, it might have gotten him killed. instead, he just stopped mid-swing, sparing another straw dummy from losing its arm. 
“left hand,” you noted as you walked past him towards a bench. “you, my friend, are in need of a break.”
luke loosened the grip on his sword. the only time luke fought with his non-dominant hand was when he had overworked the other. he must have switched an hour ago, but judging by how heavy his arm felt, it could have very well been two.  
his curls were stuck to his forehead with sweat, his shirt soaked through. he could feel a dull pain behind his eyes, and luke was worried that if he stopped to catch his breath, he would pass out. or, even worse, have to face the reality of the shitty news he’d gotten early that day. 
“come sit with me,” you urged. “you’re exhausted, tiger.” 
luke bristled at your nickname for him. 
sure, luke loved that there was something only you called him, a secret kept between you in plain sight, but it was also a reminder that it was harder to hide behind the hero act when you were around.
everyone else at camp figured the nickname was a playful attempt at calling him strong and charismatic. the truth was that luke once told you that his favorite cereal as a kid was frosted flakes and that he would dream of playing sports as well as tony the tiger. for better or for worse, like most things, you wouldn’t let it go. 
case in point: if it was anybody other than you trying to get him to take a break, luke could have just brushed them off with a charming smile and continued swordfighting until his arms fell off, but in the two years since meeting you, luke had never met anyone as stubborn and convincing. like him, it seemed you were willing to fight and shed blood to get your way. luke was never really in the mood to make you bleed, even when feeling like he could burn the entire world down, so he usually gave in to your demands.  
as soon as he sat down next to you, you handed him an orange flavored energy drink — his favorite. anything other than water was hard to come by at camp without the enchanted goblets in the dining pavilion, or the right connection in the hermes cabin. he ran out of his stash the other day, but you must have noticed and gotten one of the stoll brothers to smuggle more in. 
“thanks,” luke said, ignoring the jolt of electricity that passed through him when your fingers brushed together briefly. 
 the two of you looked out at the sword arena, and all the straw dummies that luke had destroyed. you wait for him to take three big gulps of his drink before speaking again. 
“i guess chiron and your dad decided you weren’t ready for a quest.”
luke exhaled sharply. “how did you —”
“the only time you’d skip out on capture the flag is if something really shitty happened.” you looked down at luke’s clenched fists, and that seemed to be all the confirmation you needed. “you promised annabeth you'd be there, and it's not like you to let her down."
fuck. he had completely forgotten that tonight was annabeth's first time as team captain. this entire week, she had been prepping a winning strategy. it wasn’t like annabeth needed him to win, but luke was her big brother, and he should have been there. you were right — he had let her down. 
the realization made luke’s day go from bad to worse. 
"i told her you were helping a new camper with an emergency. she didn't believe it, but she adjusted her strategy and we still won.”
“well, thank the gods everything worked in the end,” luke grumbled. 
“don’t thank the gods,” you quipped. “thank annabeth chase for her brilliant mind, and me for covering for your sorry ass.”
when luke didn’t indulge in your usual playful banter, you moved closer to him and brushed some curls away from his eyes. your skin warmed his forehead, and the small gesture made him feel better than he had all day.
“look, i’m not going to give you some bullshit inspirational speech about how the gods don’t get to define what a hero is, or how you don’t need a quest to prove that you’re worthy of being one. we’ve each been through that before, and i have a feeling this won’t be our last time, either.”
“then why are you here?” the question came out harsher than luke had intended it to.
“because she’s trying her best to hide it, but annabeth is really hurt that you didn’t show up for the game. i figured the least you could do is suck it up, come to the campfire, and make her those signature luke castellan s’mores. you could probably use one, too, since you haven’t eaten anything since breakfast.” 
you were right, again. luke was exhausted, he was furious, but most of all, he was starving.  
later that night, luke sat next to annabeth and vowed to make her as many s’mores as she wanted. you’d gone to sit with the hephaestus kids, trying to convince beckendorf and nyssa to join your cabin’s post-campfire party at the beach, even though they had to work in the forges early the next morning. 
when chiron made his weekly speech, congratulating the winners of capture the flag and thanking the gods for keeping everyone safe, you and luke caught each other’s gaze from across the fire. you rolled your eyes and luke bit back a smile as you turned back to beckendorf. he noticed your knees were practically touching. did you sit that close to everyone? 
luke was looking at you for so long that the marshmallow he was roasting fell into the fire, despite annabeth’s warnings. she handed him another one. 
"you should tell her how you feel," annabeth said. "stop being a coward." 
whether it was the smell of burnt sugar, the heat of the fire, or annabeth’s comment, luke started to feel dizzy. he did his best to shake it off, asking annabeth for a play-by-play of her strategy earlier that night, but he couldn’t quite get rid of the thought of you. 
(iii. you don't care if your clothes are stained with blood)
“i just….i can’t fucking believe you, luke.”
“i don’t get why you’re so upset — you’ve never cared about quests before.”
luke was hoping to break the news to you after capture the flag. unfortunately for him, word travels fast around camp. 
annabeth had the two of you scouting the east side for the flag, while she and some other athena kids took the west. you hadn’t found anything so far, which meant that you’d spent the better part of an hour bickering over luke’s choice of companions for his quest. a choice that included charles beckendorf and chris rodriguez, and purposefully did not include you, much to your fury.  
before you could continue arguing, luke heard the sound of footsteps approaching. he looked over to you, and you already had your shield and sword at the ready. 
a few red defenders emerged from the trees. one charged at luke, but you stepped in so he could deal with the other two. one of his opponents went down fairly easily, but the other put up much more of a fight. metal clashed behind him as you kept fighting as well. you might not have been as skilled a swordfighter as luke, but he knew that you could hold your own, at least until he was finished with the person in front of him. 
luke parried his opponent’s strike, causing them to take a step closer. he was preparing to disarm them, just as he heard you yelp and stumble to the ground. it only took a millisecond of his attention, but it gave his opponent the opportunity to elbow him in the face. luke felt a crack upon impact, and pain radiated from his nose; he powered through. 
he had to finish this fight, and he had to do it fast. you needed him. 
his ears were ringing as he finally knocked over his opponent, kicking away their sword and keeping his foot on their chest. luke turned around to see you having turned the tides, the blade of your sword dangerously close to your opponent’s neck.
you locked eyes with luke, and you both understood — it was time to go. the two of you ran through the forest, as far away as you could before having to stop and catch your breath.
luke removed his helmet to get some air, and dropped his weapons. you did the same. you looked at him, brows furrowed.
“your nose.”
luke licked his lips, tasting blood. the triumph of winning that last fight overshadowed the ache of his potentially broken nose. in fact, he liked the image of a ruthless warrior emerging from the glory and gore of battle, that even though he did not bleed ichor like a god, he still had power. 
you, on the other hand, didn’t look impressed. instead, you stepped forward and offered the sleeve of your shirt to wipe away the blood. 
“you don’t have to —”
“i know you think you’re a badass walking around all broken and bloody, but you shouldn’t deny your admirers your pretty face,” you teased. 
it was no secret that luke had numerous admirers around camp, a fact you loved to tease him about. he was sure that you relished in how flustered that made him. all you had to call him was pretty boy, and luke could be reduced to a blushing mess. 
it was pathetic how much power you had over him.
“besides, i wouldn’t have gotten out of that last fight if you hadn’t taught me that disarming technique earlier. i owe you. it’s what we do. we take care of each other, right?”
he couldn’t argue with that.
a few moments of silence passed as you cleaned his face. something shifted as you worked, the flirtatious grin fading away. when you pulled away, your sleeve was stained a dark crimson. 
“just tell me honestly,” you finally murmured. “why don't you want me to join your quest?” 
luke was genuinely taken aback by the softness of your voice, now devoid of its usual fire. you wouldn’t meet luke’s eyes, but being that close to you, he noticed they were slightly glazed over.
he had expected you to be angry at his decision. he expected you to yell and argue and try to change his mind. luke hadn’t expected you to be so hurt. so broken. 
he hadn’t planned on it, but luke decided to tell you the truth then.
“look, karma, if you come with me, my heart wouldn’t fully be in the quest. i’d be so caught up in….well, you.”
a pause.
“is that a bad thing?”
“not usually, no.” 
you smirked a little at that, and luke’s heart skipped a beat. it also made his decision even clearer. 
“but i need to be focused for this. i need….” he let out a deep sigh. “i need to prove myself. this is my first real chance, and i can’t fuck it up.”
you met his gaze and smiled brightly at him, your signature spark of confidence returning.  
“you won’t.”
you reached a hand up to play with his necklace. luke hadn’t noticed how close you’d gotten until your fingers started tracing over those four clay beads. it made his entire body burst into flames.
“i’ve been wanting to do something for a while. and, aphrodite save me, it might be really stupid, but —”
luke took a lucky guess as to where you were going, and crashed his lips against yours. aphrodite knows that he'd been wanting to do that for a while, too. 
he often got drunk on the adrenaline of battle, the glory of winning, but nothing was quite like the rush of kissing you for the first time. 
it was messy and urgent, both of you aware that, at any moment, you could be interrupted. your noses were bumping together, teeth clacking against each other. the metallic tang of blood lingered on luke’s tongue, but neither of you seemed to care. you even bit his lip slightly, as if you wanted more. armor sat heavy and cold between your chests, preventing you from getting closer. luke had never loathed the protective gear more. 
he made up for it by lodging one hand underneath your jaw, and snaking the other beneath the celestial bronze, beneath the cotton of your shirt, admiring how your pulse quickened under his thumb when he grazed the soft skin of your stomach. you tangled your hands into his hair, nails scraping against his scalp. he groaned and felt you smirk against his lips. 
luke had kissed a few people before, sure, but never like this: like a knife to the gut, and if you pulled away, luke would surely bleed out and die. 
it wouldn’t be a hero’s death, in the traditional sense, but at least he’d die happy. 
how many heroes could claim that?
when luke ran out of air, feeling like his lungs were burning, he had to pull away. 
you glanced down at luke’s kiss-bitten lips, then back to his eyes. luke flushed under the intensity of your gaze. 
“just promise me something, tiger,” you whispered, voice hoarse. 
“anything.”
“come back alive.”
luke leaned forward and placed another kiss on your lips, this one much gentler than before.
“i promise.”
(iv. you love like a scar that won't fade)
the nightmares were getting worse. 
luke woke up in a cold sweat, taking gulps of air in an attempt to steady his breathing.
“luke.” 
your whisper did little to quell the pit of dread growing in his stomach, but it did enough to bring him back down to reality. 
he was at camp half-blood (fuck the gods of olympus), in the hermes cabin (fuck you, dad), in a bed next to yours (fuck, if he could tell you what — who — was going through his head, he would).
“i’m…i’m fine,” he murmured back, voice catching slightly on the lie. 
like clockwork, you shifted from your bed to his, slipping under the covers. it didn’t matter that it was a hot summer night, and the minute your legs touched his, he could feel himself starting to overheat. 
your thumb brushed over the thick edge of his scar, up his cheekbone to the corner of his eye. it had been a year, living with this reminder. a reminder that he had failed, just as much as his father and the olympians had failed him. 
luke tried to pretend that he didn’t come back from his quest as a shell of who he once was. after all, it was meant to be his shining moment as a demigod, meant to gain him all the glory and father’s praise he once wished for. 
what a fucking joke.
every morning, luke would crawl into a different skin. he welcomed new campers and taught sword-fighting. he laughed with chris and his other siblings and strategized with annabeth for capture the flag. he would be the easy-going, charming, skillful senior counselor who respected the gods and honored them in everything he did. 
again: a fucking joke.
nights were different, though, with you so close to him, you who could always see right through him.
every night, luke was a fourteen-year old boy again, with so much rage and resentment he didn't know what to do with it. 
of course, you were always you - a bleeding heart underneath layers of armor. you didn't care about fate, or the gods, or the titans. you cared about justice, you cared about what was right and fair. 
most of all, you cared about luke.
“you were screaming,” you told him, voice barely cutting through the soft snores and sleeptalkings of your other cabinmates. 
“sorry,” he managed. looking at you in the dull moonlight, luke noticed the deep shadows under your eyes. 
“it’s fine. you just….you scared me, tiger.” 
your hand still rested on his cheek, and for a second, luke hoped you would kiss him, but you didn’t. instead, you told him to try and get some sleep, and sank further into his bed before closing your eyes. 
for the hundredth night in a row, luke hoped you couldn’t hear his heart hammering in his chest as you fell asleep next to him.
since coming back from his quest, luke didn’t have it in him to suggest being anything other than friends, and you didn’t push it. there had been a few....moments between you, sure, but nothing more.
luke thought you might have changed your mind, because who would want to be with a bitter, worthless, wannabe hero? then again, that voice haunting his dreams…. luke could change that. 
but, at what cost?
(v. you protect people as ruthlessly as a starving dog)
luke could hear you talking to percy jackson outside. though he couldn’t quite determine what was being said, as much as he tried.
you entered the bathroom and instantly caught luke’s eyes in the mirror. you were wearing your faded pyjama shorts with cartoon crows, and a flannel shirt that luke had a sneaking suspicion might have been his. you smiled at him before setting up at the counter, one sink between you. 
“what was that about?” luke asked after spitting out a mouthful of minty toothpaste.
“oh, nothing.” you were searching through your toiletry bag for something, and seemed to come up short. “hey, do you have any extra dental floss?”
luke threw some over to you. as you effortlessly caught it, he noticed your knuckles, bruised and bloodied.
“what happened?” 
you finished flossing and briefly examined your hands before pulling out your toothbrush. 
“it’s not a big deal,” you assured. “some ares kids were picking on percy, and then they started pushing him around, like, really pushing him around, so….” 
“....you decided to send them to the infirmary.”
you squeezed some toothpaste on your brush before continuing. “i don’t need you to lecture me about how i shouldn’t be fighting with other campers because i’ve been here longer and i should be a good role model. you know what a good role model does? not let kids beat up other kids and think the worst punishment they’ll get is no dessert for a week.”
luke watched carefully as you jammed the toothbrush in your mouth and brushed with such force, he was worried your teeth might dislodge. he knew that you would shed blood for someone you loved, and that you didn’t particularly care if you had to break rules in doing so, because you believed that what was written was not necessarily what was right. 
in fact, luke loved that about you.
no, it wasn’t the fighting that luke cared about — it was who you were fighting for. 
percy was a good kid, he really was. luke just didn’t want you getting attached. 
“i wasn’t going to lecture you. i’m guessing chiron already did?” 
you nodded and spat out what looked like a combination of toothpaste and blood. you rinsed your mouth until the water lost its pinkish hue. once you were done, luke continued his train of thought.
“i just didn’t realize you cared so much about him.”
“about percy?” 
luke could tell that he didn’t have your full attention. you were packing your stuff back up, accidentally tossing luke’s dental floss into your bag, but he had more pressing matters to deal with.
“yeah. the kid’s only been at camp for three days, and you’re already acting like his guard dog.”
you finally turned to luke and glared at him. 
“maybe. but percy’s sweet and he doesn’t seem like the type to put up with bullshit. he’s been through a lot, and annabeth seems to like him, too. as far as i’m concerned, percy’s one of us, and i’m not going to let anyone push him around.”
luke raised an eyebrow at you. “he’s sweet?”
“yeah. like, just now, he gave me some blue raspberry jelly beans as a thank you. said his mom used to work at a candy store. he also wanted me to apologize to you for him. he feels bad about beating you in sword-fighting earlier.” 
you scoffed, like you resented luke for having to apologize to him on percy’s behalf. you definitely did not appreciate that guard dog comment. luke clenched his jaw, seething over what you had just said. 
satisfied with his reaction, you gave luke that nauseating smile of yours, tilted your head towards the exit. a truce, because you never liked to fight with luke for too long, and a order, because you knew luke would always follow. 
the two of you began walking back to your cabin in the warm mid-june air. 
“i wouldn’t say he beat me,” luke huffed. “it was beginner’s luck.”
“sure, tiger. it was beginner’s luck that disarmed the best swordsman we’ve had in the last 300 years.”
you nudged luke’s shoulder with yours, but he recoiled from your touch. 
“are you trying to make me feel worse?” luke tried his best to avoid snapping at you, keeping his tone measured.
“i’m just saying that maybe the kid has natural talent and that doesn’t make you any less talented. there’s no need to get jealous.”
luke resisted the urge to growl at your suggestion. 
to be clear, he was not jealous. it’s just that luke had spent years of blood, sweat, and tears getting to where he was then, and percy jackson had just gotten to camp. 
and, to be even more clear, luke was not jealous of how you were already defending percy with your whole body and your whole heart, the way you did for him. 
by then, you reached the front of the hermes cabin. luke could already hear the commotion of what he would need to deal with as soon as he walked in. the burden of being head counselor, one he approached with an elastic smile that could snap at any moment. 
you tugged on luke’s sleeve before he could open the door. 
“hey. are we okay?”
luke looked down at your fingers grasping the fabric of a sweatshirt he was just realizing was yours. your nails were painted a dark red, now chipped after a week of wear. you had begged luke to paint his nails then, and once again, he gave in. he even started to like the purple you had chosen just for him, so deep it was almost black. the same color you were wearing the first time you and luke met.
he smiled at the memory — a real smile, no plastic — and then smiled back up at you.
“we’re fine, karma.” and he moved to enter the cabin. luke could hear the threat of an argument bubbling up, what sounded like a petty one over a prank gone wrong.
“wait.” you tugged at his (your) sweatshirt once more. “there’s something i wanted to talk to you about, about tomorrow night—”
“annabeth called a meeting during free time.”
“yeah, i know, it’s just —”
“she’ll run through strategy for capture the flag then.”
“one of the aphrodite senior campers asked me to the campfire,” you blurted it out, and luke decided to ignore the sound of a fight breaking out from behind the wooden door.
what in the name of hades were you talking about?
“they asked you out? like…like a….” luke didn’t even want to speak the word, scared it would make it real.
“a date,” you said casually, as if that one word didn’t rip luke’s heart in a million pieces. “i said yes.” an admission that took all those pieces and set them on fire. 
sure, in the seven years since you and luke met, you’d each talked about boys, about girls, about dating and kissing them and going further. but there was something about this one that felt different. something about the way you told him.
“but, listen, i wanted to let you know it’s not —”
“good for you,” was all luke said through gritted teeth before someone started calling his name again, louder and more urgently, and he had to duck inside.  
(vi. you taste like burning cherries and righteous anger)
your team had won capture the flag, of course. the biggest news of the evening, though: percy jackson was the son of the sea god. 
he was a forbidden child, the hero of the great prophecy. 
everything was falling into place. 
all luke should be thinking about is kronos’ plan, and his role in it, and how a world without the gods of olympus was that much more in reach.  
unfortunately, for the time being, he was so consumed by you. 
you, from across the campfire, sporting cutoff denim shorts and fresh wounds from the game earlier. you, who had wrapped your knuckles in gauze, concealing their bruising, fixed the chips in your nail polish and stacked rings on your fingers. (for the record: luke had gifted you the one on your left thumb.) you, with dark lips that whispered too closely and laughed too loudly with a child of aphrodite— jordan li.
you hadn’t so much as looked at luke since congratulating each other on another win. when chiron announced his weekly gratitude to the gods at the start of that night’s campfire, you didn’t punctuate your resentment with your usual eye-roll or biting remark. you were too busy giggling at something jordan said.
luke wanted to be the one to whisper jokes in your ear. he wanted to be the one you left lipstick stains on later, along his jaw and down his neck. he wanted to be the one who kissed the blade mark on your shoulder and the bruises on your knuckles. 
and yet, hours passed and it seemed that the thought of luke had never so much as crossed your mind. he found himself at an after hours party with a few senior campers on the beach. a lethal recipe: a poorly crafted bonfire, some contraband drinks and you in jordan li’s lap, playing with their hair and pretending luke castellan did not exist. 
meanwhile, luke had katie gardner’s full attention. she was talking to him about the strawberry season, potentially leaning a bit too close into luke’s personal space, definitely flirting with him. 
luke could have done a lot worse than the head counselor of the demeter cabin, who always smelled like fresh lavender, whose eyes were the bright green of spring grass and whose lips tasted like golden honey. 
the problem was that luke only wanted you, and his eyes kept sliding over to where you were kissing jordan’s cheek, and he accidentally called the girl he was kissing by your name, which did not make her happy. 
katie threw her drink in his face, told him to wake the fuck up, and walked away.
a chorus of gasps and chuckles erupted as luke stood there, diet coke and vodka seeping into his shirt. the commotion seemed to capture your attention, because you suddenly appeared next to luke, an empty bottle of cherry soda in your hand.
“rough night, tiger?” your voice, that nickname, made luke sick, his face twisting into a frown. you don’t seem to notice or care. instead, you switched your bottle with luke’s and took a sip.
“looks like you were having a pretty good time,” luke practically sneered. “where’s your date?” 
 “they went to bed.” you swallowed a mouthful of beer, grimacing at its bitterness. “gods, this is terrible. you and i should go on the drink run next time — we have better taste.”
“so, are you and jordan like a thing now?”
you gave luke a smile he didn’t quite understand, but made his stomach churn in ways only you could. “would that be a problem?”
“of course not.” he answered way too quickly for that to be true. 
“let’s get out of here,” you suggested. “i think katie is about this close to strangling you with a tree branch.”
luke glanced over your shoulder to where green eyes glared back at him. 
nowhere could luke find it in him to care. he wasn’t even sorry. he just shrugged, took the bottle back from you, took his first sip all night. luke almost gagged (because of course you were right, and the stoll brothers had better fake ids than they had taste) but he suppressed it. 
“no. i’m good.”
biggest lie he ever said. like there wasn’t anger caught in his throat and jealousy swelling between his ribs.
“go find jordan,” he taunted. “kiss them, show them a good time! isn’t that the reason why you got all pretty?”
you narrowed your eyes at him carefully. your nostrils were slightly flared, and luke took a bit of pride in being able to rile you up.
“look, we haven’t really talked lately, and i think we should.”
“go find jordan,” he mocked once more. “almost all the aphrodite kids are here, and i’m sure you can be quiet enough to sneak into their cabin and if you want a quick fu—”
“luke.” you clipped his name, obviously getting to the limit of your patience with him. “if you want to stay here all night and be an asshole, you’re welcome to. you should know, though, that your happy-go-lucky hero mask is starting to crack and i don’t know if you could deal with the fallout from it shattering completely.”
you leaned in close and whispered that last part, very aware of the chattering that stopped and the eyes that watched the pair of you anxiously. luke was usually good at hiding that part of himself who wanted to burn the world down. 
in ways you didn’t realize, you were right: he couldn’t risk revealing it, not now.
not yet. 
“do whatever you want, castellan,” you spat out his last name, the combination of letters foreign in your mouth.“i’m leaving.”
luke should be proud of himself. he waited a whole two seconds before following you like a stray dog. 
luke didn’t know if he’d ever felt you that enraged by him, and it horrified him. it also made him hungry for more. 
“i’m not sure that jordan would want the two of us alone together at night,” he shouted after you, words echoing into the starless sky.
“gods, enough about jordan!” luke practically ran into you with how fast you turned around to confront him. “i was helping them with that stupid aphrodite tradition!”
“you….” luke faltered, all the snark leaving his body. “what?”
luke remembered silena beauregard once explaining the rite of passage to him: to prove themselves, a child of aphrodite had to make someone fall in love with them, and then break their heart.
“why…why would you agree to do that?”
you had reached the dining area by then, and you sat on one of the steps leading to the pavilion. luke stayed a few feet away, looking at you cautiously. 
“jordan and i are already friends, and they figured a fake relationship would be the way to avoid anyone from actually getting hurt in the process.”
“you seemed so…so into it, though,” luke stammered, the memory of you in jordan’s lap, laughter bubbling from your lips, still fresh.
“it’s called acting, dumbass.” the camp didn’t rely on electricity, but there were enough torches around that luke could see you roll your eyes. “anyways, i was trying to give you a heads-up last night, but you wouldn’t listen.” you took a deep breath. “and, honestly, i didn’t push it because….i figured i should test a hypothesis.”
a hypothesis? you’d known annabeth for too long.
“what hypothesis?”
you hesitated. 
“it doesn’t matter. fuck, this was stupid,” you muttered, and without another word, stormed through the dining pavilion, a short cut to the hermes cabin. your footsteps fell heavy against the marble, and luke’s not far behind. 
“what hypothesis?” he asked again.
nothing but rushed footsteps.
“what hypothesis?” luke finally yelled.
third time was the charm, because you stopped in your tracks and faced luke once again. a fire burned in the bronze brazier, where campers were forced to offer up portions of your food to the gods at every meal. its roaring seemed to captivate you, and the flames danced across your face, illuminating all your curves and edges.
“i’m angry at the gods,” you stated. 
this caught luke off guard. from the day the two of you met, luke knew you shared that feeling. you’d gotten quieter with your rage as you’d gotten older. luke supposed he got better at hiding it himself, as well. 
“i’m angry at the gods for letting bad shit happen even if they can stop it, and for building this world in the fucked up way they did. i’m angry at your dad for the way he’s treated you, but — you, luke castellan.” you finally met luke’s eyes with a gaze so sharp, luke almost felt himself bleed. “i’m also angry at you, and not just for your bullshit tonight.” 
your admission felt like a punch to the stomach, and luke was left with no air to breathe.
did you know?
“you haven’t been the same since your quest,” you continued, words slow and deliberate, the way you spoke when you were worried your voice would shake. “and i’ve come to terms with that in the past few years, but you….you’ve never tried to ice me out before. you’ve been acting distant since december, and it’s been driving me insane. do you realize how much i miss my best …..” you swallowed the word friend. “how much i miss you?”
luke hesitated, because what could he say? i know i’ve been distant, but i’ve been busy trying to start a war between the gods. sorry babe! 
would you hate him, if you knew? 
you had to have known that, despite the distance, luke missed you. for tartarus sake, in the last two days, he’d driven himself mad at you calling a fourteen year old boy sweet, and he was about to combust at the image of you dating someone else, with little care as to the collateral damage. 
"you can't just avoid me, makeout with katie fucking gardner, and then….” you trailed off, hiding your face in your hands. whether it was to hide embarrassment or tears, luke wasn’t sure.
a smirk spread across luke’s face at the revelation that he hadn’t been the only one jealous at the bonfire that night. it lit luke up with the confidence he needed to not completely fall to his knees in front of you, beg for your forgiveness for everything he’s done.
“why do you care if i make out with katie fucking gardner?” 
as he waited for a response, luke walked towards you until your back hit one of the marble columns. 
“why do you care if i’m with jordan fucking li?” you clenched your jaw and looked right through luke. a clear indication that you wanted him to break down first; it wouldn’t be you who yielded this fight.
“because i want to be the one you’re with.” at that point, luke was so close to you that he swore he could hear your heartbeat. he reached out and played with the hem of your shorts. “why do you care if i make out with katie gardner?”
“because.” you drew in a sharp breath when luke’s fingers brushed underneath the denim, across the warm skin of your thigh. you closed your eyes. “don’t make me say it, tiger.” 
the desperation in your voice made luke want to do unholy things with you, to you. luke knew you didn’t think of him as a saint, and you never expected him to be one. the reality was that you weren’t much better, either. what was essentially an altar to the gods burned bright next to you, but it seemed neither of you had ever cared less about it than in that moment. 
luke would watch olympus fall. he would dethrone the gods and watch their glass castle shatter and find glory in a new world. in the grand scheme of things, he was willing to lose this battle.
in fact, he would have rather betrayed the titan lord himself than waste another second not kissing your lips. 
so, he kissed you, and you kissed him back with such force, such hunger, it was ungodly.
no, you certainly weren’t a saint — but you were divine, in the most brutal, intoxicating way. in the way you shuddered when luke lodged a leg between your thighs; in the way you threaded your fingers through the belt loops of his jeans to bring him closer; in the way the metal of your rings burned through the skin of his hip, right to the bone, which made him shudder, and you smile triumphantly against his jaw.
the more he tasted your smirk flavored by cherry soda and the ashes of nearby flames, the more he felt your feral teeth against his neck and your wicked nails digging into his shoulders, the more you tugged on his curls, the more luke thought: maybe. 
maybe you would give into your seething resentment, live up to those eye-rolls and snarky comments that got you in trouble with chiron, on the edge of hot water with the gods. maybe you would join the titan army. maybe, just maybe, this time, you would follow luke.
and yet — maybe wasn’t enough if it meant he could lose this. luke wouldn’t risk it, not until he kissed every battle scar and bruise on your body, and you did the same to his. 
“wait.”
it was the last thing luke wanted to do, but he complied. he took the opportunity to appreciate the chaos he created: your shirt in disarray, your lipstick a mess, your chest heaving and desperate to catch a breath. 
“i promised jordan that we’d keep up our charade for a week, two at the most. do you think we could keep this…” you tightened your fist around the fabric of his shirt. “a secret until then?”
luke responded by pressing his lips to yours once more, because there were definitely worse secrets to keep.
(vii. you wouldn’t hesitate to make him bleed)
luke had just left percy jackson to die.
he should be leaving camp, now, but he needed to see you one last time. 
the universe works in mysterious ways, because you were out on a run through the forest, and you crossed paths before he even had time to wonder where you were.
“hey, tiger.” you smiled as if this was a regular afternoon. the two of you would teach your afternoon activities, sneak away during dinner so luke could kiss you in that spot that made you gasp. “wanna join me? i was just wrapping up, but i could be convinced to go longer.”
for a second, he was tempted to. very tempted. 
“i don’t have much time.”
you seemed to notice luke’s sullen mood and you dropped your playful demeanor. 
luke explained: the messages from kronos in his dreams, him stealing the lightning bolt and helm of darkness to start a war between the gods and framing percy. the plan to destroy olympus that luke had pledged his life to.
percy was surprised at what luke had done, and luke could imagine that the rest of camp would be, too. luke was the golden boy of camp half-blood, everyone’s big brother. 
you, on the other hand, didn’t express any sense of shock. 
“luke.” you said his name like you weren’t quite sure it was poison. “i’m going to give you five seconds to tell me that you’re joking.”
five seconds of silence passed. you took a few steps back from luke.
“i….i should have told you sooner.”
“yeah,” you scoffed. “you should have. but, you didn’t. did it feel good, having the titan king whispering sweet nothings in your ear? all the lies about how this war is the only way to get the glory you so desperately want? it’s fucking delusional.” 
“it’s not delusional—”
“yes, it is!” you glared at him. “you’re on the wrong side of a war you made the mistake of starting.”
luke straightened his posture, thinking about how hypocritical you were being. 
“isn’t this what you’re all about? revenge, karma. your mom will probably join us, too. don’t you want to see the gods finally get what they deserve?”
“not like this. i can’t believe how desperate you are, to believe that kronos is going to make everything right. it’s pathetic,” you spat. “i’m not saying the gods don’t deserve to be taken down a notch. their fucking obsession with power and glory….it’s sick and twisted, but i don’t think your titan king is any better. i don’t think you are any better.” 
“it’s time that the gods fall. this is the only way, even if it isn’t perfect,” luke countered. his voice was firmer now as he absorbed your anger. your mother was the goddess of revenge, but you clearly didn't understand the sacrifices, pain, and blood that was required to make the world a better place.  
luke just needed to convince you.
“we’ve talked about this for years,” he continued. “nothing is balanced! there’s no justice here, for anyone.  we can build a better world where we don’t have to burn our scraps and throw ourselves at monsters to get attention. we can fight together like we always have. y/n, i love—”
“don’t,” you snapped. “don’t you fucking dare. you should have died on your quest.” your voice laced with venom. one hand gripping the knife you always kept on your belt. “that dragon should have fucking sliced through you and saved us all the trouble.”
something pricked in the back of his throat, down to his stomach.
“you don’t mean that.”
“i do,” you promised. “at least you would have died with all of us thinking you’re a hero instead of the traitor you really are.”
you grabbed your knife, took a fighting stance. 
“i’m not going to fight you,” was all luke could say. he noticed your hand tremble, and you tightened the grip on your knife to prevent emotion from slipping through your invisible armor. 
in that moment, you have could slice through luke, and it would hurt less than everything you just said, less than the murderous look you were giving him, like he was just another monster you wouldn’t think twice about sending to tartarus.
luke didn’t even have a chance to unsheathe his sword before you charged at him, but he quickly had you pinned to the ground, the tip of your own knife pointed at you. he hesitated. the blade pressed harder against your cheek than he intended, enough to break the skin and let a few droplets of dark crimson escape. 
“please come with me,” he pleaded. you didn’t answer, but you did seem surprised by the softness of his voice. 
a few moments passed, the celestial bronze still between you. luke waited for you to see his way, to yield to his proposal.
you didn’t. instead, you took advantage of the situation. you wrapped your leg around his and flipped your position. in the process, you regained possession of your knife. without the hesitation that held luke back, you sliced through his cheek, deep. luke bit his lip to suppress a groan, tasting blood. your gaze set his whole body on fire as he waited for your next move. that was when you glanced down at his camp necklace, and the new clay bead added to commemorate this summer.
a turquoise trident.
“percy told me he was on his way to see you,” you realized. “what did you do?”
luke didn’t answer. he knew then that a choice ran through your head. 
and it stung, just a little, watching you sprint away through the trees in a last ditch effort to save percy’s life. 
there was a small, pathetic part of luke that wanted you to choose him, even if it meant you would have plunged the knife into his chest.
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lvlyghost · 4 months
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Tainted Heart
PAIRINGS: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader
SUMMARY: After not seeing you for a few weeks, you come back to the base acting strange.
WORD COUNT: 1.9k
TW: sexual themes, smut but not too explicit. anxiety, self-doubt. worried!simon, poor baby thinks he's done something wrong💔comfort and fluff, mind the english!🐸
A/N: okay so yeah, i can't believe I finished this so fast. anyway enjoy!🥹✨🫶🏻💚gif's not mine' iloveyousimonriley!💗
Masterlist✨
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You try to even your shaky breathing before opening the door of the meeting room. Taking more than usual to toughen up, the last thing you want is anyone asking if you were okay. Not even your teammates and especially not Simon. Hands trembling when you open and close them, a cold sweat that runs down your spine with the clear signs of anxiety that will soon start to bubble up if you don't get this over with soon.
Another moment passes when all you can hear is your own heart racing in your ears and the world spins for a second; pushing the door open you enter. Everyone's already there, sitting around the wooden table. Four pair of eyes find you, Soap and Gaz smile your way and John nods motioning for you to take your seat next to Ghost. But you can't bring yourself to do it. You need space. You need to be left alone to battle with your own mind. Instead you grab one of the chairs and set it far from them, sitting in the far corner.
Price's eyebrows furrow but doesn't comment on it, merely resuming what he was just telling the rest of the task force. Everyone's attention is back to the Captain except for Ghost. Ghost who's frowning so hard behind the mask at your refusal to join them. It sparks a sense of irritation and worry.
He knows he shouldn't be feeling that way. You are not even together, even if a few nights spent in each other's rooms had taken place, he considered himself something akin to a friend more than just your superior or a few hook ups here and there. Were you important to him? Absolutely yes. He needed to see your eyes, needed you to look his way so he can see through you as he usually does. Your beautiful eyes would tell him what he needed to know.
But you ignore him.
Glaring at Price without really looking. Lost in your head. You know you should be paying attention but it's all static to your ears, it's the sound of every pen writing down on a sheet. Of feet being dragged across the tile floor. Bodies shifting in their seats. Someone sipping on water.
One of the boys making a comment as your leg bounces up and down not being able to stop it. All the voices inside are muffled and you just want to get out of there so bad.
"Sergeant?" Price calls you, raising his voice and pulling yourself back from your stupor.
Eyes blinking rapidly as your attention turns to him and the room is deadly silent. Was that a hair pin dropping in the hallway?
"Yes Captain?" You ask, body numb and cold.
Price sighs.
"I asked if there's anything else you want to know about the mission? You're leaving in two weeks with Ghost."
"Oh." The answer is muttered so lowly they can barely hear your voice. You find the face of the Lieutenant for one second before looking away as if it had burned you. Simon's body goes stiff. "No."
Not convinced but not wanting to push for another answer he dismisses all of you. You're storming out of the room before he's fully done, leaving the four men taken aback by your strange demeanor.
It's not until you've reached the women's barracks that you stop. If anyone had followed you, you didn't notice too preoccupied and deep in that somber haze that's been clouding your mind since you got back from home.
Memories of everything that went wrong. And the memories of the man across the room.
-
A beautiful, warm feeling forms in your belly, big hands tightly hold your waist. His face hiding in the crook of your neck as your arms circle his broad shoulders holding onto him, sinking up and down on his lap. Sweet sounds of skin slapping against skin echo around the quiet night of his room. Simon mutters sweet nothings in your ear as you both chase your highs, coming undone at the same time he forces you took straight to his brown eyes and your heart flutters, overwhelmed at the way he takes in your presence and breathes the essence of you. Just you as a whole. He doesn't let you go until he's spilled everything inside you, massaging you over the soft fabric of your —his— shirt that neither bothered to take off, too enraptured to care.
"Hey, you with me?" giving a small squeeze to your hip Simon let's you touch his face and trace the scars that adorn the uneven parts of his skin. He notices the way your attention seems to drift away from where you are.
"Yeah. Was thinking about us."
His brows lift.
"What about us?" Inhaling deeply you shake your head lifting from your spot and walking on somewhat wobbly legs, Simon follows you to the bathroom wondering why you're acting so strange. "Sweetheart?"
"It's nothing, I promise." He watches as you clean yourself, he could've done it —he has every other time— but now with your sudden change he doesn't know what to think. "I have to go. My parents are waiting for me."
Clenching his jaw he decided to not pressure you on the matter. Ghost was aware that visiting your parents or talking about them struck a nerve within you.
"Want me to give you a ride?" You look at him through the mirror and shake your head in denial.
"I can take the bus."
"Love..."
"It's fine, Simon." You utter. "It's fine."
Turning around on your heels you walk past him, who stays anchored to the same spot outside the bathroom. He watches as you gather your belongings and begin to dress. Simon crosses his arms over his chest.
"Text me when you get home, please?"
A curt nod is all you give him.
-
You never texted him although he had tried to reach out to you in the next few days and you try not to think about everything that's happened as you strip naked and step in the shower. Warm water washing your body, forehead pressing on the cool tiles of the wall. Shoulders shaking, hands coming to your mouth trying to muffle your sobs.
The all too clear picture of your father telling you no one could ever love you. Your mother doing her best to console you when you had told her the truth.
"I- I think I love him mom." sad eyes fixated on the far wall. "And I don't know what to do."
She had taken your hand with a beautiful smile on her lips.
"Any man would be lucky to have you, darling."
Her words resounding in your ears, and your eyes glimmer with hope. Hope that maybe she's right.
But you had promised to never let it get that far. You'll lose him and that's what pains you the most.
Girl's snickering and walking in the shared showers can be heard from behind, you can't see them but the sound of their giggles fade away in an instant. Gone as soon as they came. Turning off the water pipes you wrap yourself with the white towel neatly hung on the bathroom rack and the moment you slide the curtain open you're met with brown eyes leaning against the opposite wall. He's been waiting, hearing you cry. Shooing away all the women who came with a single hard look their way. No doubt gossiping about the Lieutenant being in the women's section.
A long silence stretches between the two before he finally breaks it, pushing himself off the wall and slowly walking towards you, who holds the towel against your body in a vice-like grip.
"Haven't heard from you in days. Weeks." He starts, eyes following the droplets that travel down your body and back to your face. You've been crying. Simon hates seeing you cry and not being able to do anything about it. It makes him feel powerless, worthless. What do you call a man that can't even help his girl? "You've been ignoring me. May I ask what's going on?"
He's calm, controlled despite the rage within him. You never texted him back that day, never answered his calls leaving him worried and dwelling on the whole situation.
His own insecurities sparked the worst.
"Nothing, just personal stuff Lt." clearing your throat you try to walk past him but he grabs your arm.
"Bloody hell don't call me that. I'm asking as...-"
"As what?" You bite back, eyes snapping up at him as tears collect in your eyes. Simon grits his teeth he wants to say a lot but no words come out. "You shouldn't be here. People will talk."
"I'm not leaving until you speak. What's got you like this." You shake your head. "Fucking Christ I can't fix this if you don't tell me." He hisses.
"There's nothing to fix!"
"Just bloody talk to me, I'm losing my mind was it something I said?" He's not screaming but he's panting hard. "Was it something I did?!" He demands, big terrified, desperate orbs screaming for a sign.
"I fell in love with you!" You confess, eyes widening in horror at what you just said. Fervently shaking your head and walking back, away from him. Simon's eyes widen for a fraction before he's reaching out again hands cradling your face in them with a wild, desperate look. Your vision blurred thanks to the tears.
"Say it again." He pleads, his voice barely above a whisper. Like the sound of snow falling from the sky during the winter. You freeze in your spot, chewing on your lower lip.
"I fell in love." His body relaxed, all the tension he has been bearing on his shoulders for the past days slowly fades. "And we agreed we couldn't let this happen. Never. Forgive me Simon."
"Silly girl." He breathes in, caressing your cheeks with his thumbs. "You haven't been paying attention, have you?"
"What?" You mumble, one hand coming up to rest on one of his.
"You're in my mind even when you're not supposed to be."
"Why didn't you say anything?"
"Because I'm an idiot." His forehead connects with yours and you can finally breathe again. After the hellish days at home, the sense of being loved and protected by the man you love is enough to overwhelm you. "Thought I was losing you for a moment. Nearly lost my mind, love."
"No. Never." You promise, hugging him tightly against your body. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Simon I just... I just didn't know what to do."
"S'alright." He soothes you. "I've got you." Feeling like the luckiest man alive, even if he didn't deserve to be loved.
He remembers the moment when he had fallen for you, the day you smiled up at him under the starry night on the roof of the safe house, covered in blood and dirt.
He knew there would be no one else after you.
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fangisms · 6 months
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hiii i loved „spring breaks loose”!!🤍 could i request another something for theodore, where the reader is quite bubbly and loves talking and he, the quiet guy he is, just likes to listen? and maybe the reader is worried that she talks too much and it could be annoying to him but he’s just so in love that he’s obsessed with all her rabling😭😭 sorry if thats too specific
darling socialite
A/N: um i love this because if someone let me chat their ear off, i would fall in love. i love a chatter and i love a listener 🩷 gif creds: @perfectlyfuckingcivils
Pairings: Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader
Summary: You are talkative as all hell, and Theo has dubbed himself your devoted listener. 1.3k words
Warnings: i be cursing, fluff, mild self-consciousness, two dummies in LOVE, mattheo being a perv (boy moment), kissing…, pansy being a slight bitch (lovingly)
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Everyday, you look forward to telling Theo anything and everything. Sometimes, you'll get so excited to tell him something that you'll jot it down on the nearest surface. Most of the time, that surface is your hand. Who can blame you; you can't resist the gory details.
Everyday, Theo looks forward to hearing anything and everything from you. You're his favorite news source, his sweetest messenger, his darling socialite, and he is your devoted subscriber. He's worried one day you'll run out of things to tell him, but according to the ink splotches across your skin, there's a slim chance that'll happen.
"Hi, teddy!" you chirp, and he turns to welcome you into the seat beside him. "You will not believe what I saw in the courtyard on my way here: a willow tit!"
Mattheo chokes on a gulp of juice, sputtering in his seat and looking over at you. "Pardon?"
"Don't be crude, Matty. I'm talking about birds."
"Yeah, I got that, I just never realized you’re playing for the other team—"
"Mattheo!" you holler, glaring at him in utter disbelief, "you complete idiot! Birds, as in real birds. As in those things that fly around and chirp and eat berries!"
"Let me get this straight, we're not talking about some bird's tits? Suddenly, I'm uninterested," he says, earning a pointed glare from Theo.
"Anyway," you say, rolling your eyes and facing Theo, "You hardly see them anymore, they're very rare, but I saw one, and it was the cutest creature I've ever seen on campus! It was so round, I could have died. He must've liked all the rain we got over the weekend. I hope he survives the winter and has lots of little tit babies in the spring!"
Theo could not be more head over heels for you while you babble about round tits and babies. He thinks if he ever opens his mouth to respond, he’ll screw it up in an instant. Thank Merlin, he's naturally quiet and content to listen to you all day. And thank Merlin, you never ask for anything more from him.
If only you knew how much he truly adores you and your ramblings. He holds your company in his highest regard and considers every time you choose him a blessing.
You never think too much of Theo's tight-lippedness. You figure if he was completely sick of it, he'd just get up and walk away. Or maybe that's not like him, and maybe you are a bother.
It doesn't help when Pansy skips up to you in the hall and says, "I'm really impressed you're able to hold Theo's attention as long as you do."
"What are you talking about, P?" you say.
"Well... don't you ever worry he's, like... bored with you? I mean, when was the last time he actually contributed to your 'conversations'. I just don't want you to get your hopes up, you know?" —she shrugs it off like it's not an unforgivable curse to the gut—"If I were you, I'd find a more attentive playmate. You can always talk to me!"
"Thanks, Pansy," you say.
"Just looking out for a friend! See ya!"
You nod and wait by the bottom of the stairs as she hops her way up. You didn't think you were getting your hopes up, necessarily. You thought Theo was just a good listener. And sure, he's not super responsive, but he's just shy. That's not his fault.
There's a rapping of knuckles at the door, and Mattheo hurdles his bed and reaches for the knob.
"Why, good evening, dearest birdwatcher"—Theo perks up from where he's rifling through his trunk.
"I could say the same to you, perv," you tease, "Is Theo around? I need—"
"To talk to him? Figures. He's just hiding his softcore stash—"
"Shut up!" Theo hollers, popping up and hurrying to the door, a little flushed to find you looking at him, "he's just joking."
Mattheo chuckles, "No, he's right, Theo would never have so much fun"—he dodges the jab to his side—"Alright, I'll leave you two lovebirds to your tits and whatnot. Try not to make too much noise, we have downstairs neighbors." He winks and makes his way down the boys dormitories stairwell.
And suddenly, Theo can't remember the last time he was truly alone with you. No onlookers or eavesdroppers, no Pansy and no Mattheo. Just the two of you. His sweaty palms and your rapid heartbeat.
"I need to ask you something," you finally blurt. He looked so nervous you thought he might throw up over the railing, so you put him out of his misery before he has the chance.
"Yes, yeah, anything," he huffs.
"Well," you say, "I was thinking—just... ruminating, really, because it was suggested that I bore you with my chattiness"—you cross your arms over your chest and look to the floor—"and not that I'm begging for pity or even a response, I just wanted to know how you feel because I realized maybe I don't ask about you enough. You know, like I'm always worried about me, or something, but I do worry about you, too! I just wasn't sure if that's something—if you maybe wanted to talk about it more. Because I can be a good listener! I'd be happy to hear whatever you have to say!"
Theo leans his shoulder against the doorframe, adjusting the bottom of his sweater as it clings to his hips. How could he let you believe you're too much for him. How could he let you believe yourself to be some kind of social burden to him. All because he'd much rather listen to you than contribute his own two cents.
"See! Merlin, even now, I've just talked your ear off while trying to apologize for constantly talking your ear off! And I haven't even apologized, yet! I'm so sorry, Theo, I know it's a problem, and I didn't mean to take advantage of your politeness."
You scuff your sole on the landing with a whine, and he leans to the side to watch you look over the edge. It's so quiet for a moment, he can hear your soft breathing if he focuses on it.
"It's not a problem," Theo says. You look over, lips parted at the smug look on his face. "And if I was the one who suggested otherwise, I couldn't be more apologetic."
It makes you smile. He's just said two very thoughtful things to you. Out loud. To your face. You could crumble.
"No! No, teddy, it wasn't you, it was... doesn't matter. You really don't mind?"
He shakes his head, a little amused, honestly. How could he mind? You’re the greatest thing since dark chocolate, and he’d still give that up. You’d go just as well with his afternoon tea.
“Well, then,” you huff, warmer under his gaze, determined to get this damned apology across.
“Alright,” Theo says. Apology accepted. Apology not even necessary. But still accepted.
“Okay. But next time you catch me rambling, you better just shut me up! Tell me to ‘shush’ or something! It’s a problem, and I give you full permission to—”
He kisses you. He leans down, smug with his fingers under your chin, and he kisses you! Shuts you right up like you’re still some gullible first year completely wooed by his boyish charms! Oh, but he’s kissing you very sweetly. And when your knees go a tad wobbly, he rushes to cradle your elbow.
“Like that?” he says.
“That’s no way to treat a lady, Theodore. You should be completely ashamed of yourself for ever thinkin—”
He kisses you again. More sure and much quicker. Like a reflex. A knee jerk reaction without the kneeing or the jerking. Just his stupidly soft lips.
“Yeah,” you whisper, “that works… but you can’t just kiss me every time you want to shut me up.”
“No”—he pecks your lips, fingers gentle at your cheek—“I plan on kissing you much more often than that.”
masterlist
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espinosaurusrexex · 27 days
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Bad Boys Don't Buy Flowers
CEO!BuckyBarnes x Female!Florist!Reader AU
read Steve's story here
summary: Bucky would have never thought, he’d be chasing after a girl. Not when all of them usually fell at his feet. But when he finds himself entangled in a deal born out of a desperate argument with his assistant, he realizes there is nothing he wouldn't do for you: The independent florist who is adamantly dragging him to the homeless shelter every chance she gets. There is just one problem: Bucky doesn't know how to tell you. And the teasing from his friends is certainly not making things easier for him...
a/n: I should be working instead of writing long ass billionaire love stores, but here we are: you and me both... happy it happened and already regretting the tasks we neglected because of it (please enjoy this wholesome piece of imagination - I know it's long, but I hope you’ll give it a try nonetheless)
word count: 16.4k 😬
warnings: play boy behavior/talk, a reader that knows what she wants, Bucky falls first (and hard 🤭), mentions of war, injuries, and death (all not applying to Bucky for once), just so much fluff, questioning life choices (angst with happy ending!), smut (this is freaking love making okay?!?!? praise and confessions, dry humping, fingering, multiple orgasms, squirting, touch starved Bucky - in a way…, sensual and beautiful, protected p in v, cock warming, and aftercare) !MINORS DNI!
゚✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 。✭・゚✶ 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ✧*・゚
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"Did you place the order?" Bucky leaned back in Steve's office chair and watched as his friend paced the space with a hand in his pocket. 
Steve was grinning like an idiot when the answer on the other side satisfied him and Bucky felt a tiny little spark in his chest at the sight. He'd watched his best friend go through life with a default tension in his shoulders for what seemed like forever. All until he found Bambi - a sweet and incredibly clumsy woman who was formerly his maid. But they found each other and Steve had been a happier man ever since.
Bucky was happy for him, too. He was a lot more fun to be around ever since, but it did remind him that Bucky himself had yet to find the one that would make his heart beat faster. 
It was a ridiculous idea, of course. Bucky was never the one for relationships or long-term commitment in the romantic department. To be honest, he wasn't even sure he was capable of love - not that he needed it, anyway. He had no problem with having a new plaything every other night. It was fun and kept him on his toes. 
"Perfect. Okay. Thanks, Sharon." Bucky sat up straighter in the chair. "Yeah, next Friday. See you later."
Steve sighed as he slumped on the sofa across the room. He watched the ceiling, looking like a love-drunk schoolboy, even though he tried so hard to conceal it. Bucky knew him too well.
"Dinner is booked.”
“You’re really doing it huh?"
“Yup." There was no doubt in Steve’s answer, but rather a special kind of excitement Bucky rarely felt.
The brunette just nodded as he looked to the ground, the chair swaying as he pushed his knees from one side to the other. 
Steve just grinned in response. "So when are you gonna let me help you find the one?"
Bucky perked up, amusement seeping through his gaze when he answered his best friend. ”Me? No no. I’m fine."
Steve shrugged. ”You know, that’s exactly what I said about a year ago."
"No offense, Stevie, but you and I were in vastly different sex universes back then. I’m getting laid - I’m aaaaall good." He leaned back with a smug grin and Steve just frowned in response. "You can be as happy as you want but don’t start trying to get everyone on the girlfriend train. That’s a Rogers and Wilson thing. I don’t need that type of commitment."
Steve remained silent as he watched Bucky stand up and head for the door, a thoughtful look on his face when his friend passed him. 
“Look, I’m happy for you, truly. I just don’t see myself in that type of life.” Bucky’s hand squeezed Steve’s shoulder just as the blonde cocked his head to the side. 
“Never?”
Bucky winked at him. “You know I like to live in the present. But speaking of the future... You’re still up for tomorrow night, right?”
“Tomorrow night?"
"Ironbar."
Steve’s eyes widened. ”Shit. No, I promised Bambi we'd-" Steve stopped when he saw Bucky's eyebrows raise in amusement. “...next time."
Bucky sighed in defeat. "Tell her to leave some Steve time for the rest of us, will ya?" And with a laugh of Steve’s, he shut the office door, walked past Sharon’s desk, then Natasha’s, and then into his own office.
❁ ❁ ❁
The clock hand barely struck 8am when another set of files hit Bucky’s desk. 
Bucky huffed as he watched Natasha stand before him with an amused smile, her hands on her hips that were hugged by a tight pencil skirt. “Looking for something, Boss?”
“No...”
“Something like... the invitation to that business dinner on Thursday?” She mused and carefully pulled a piece of paper from the stack between them. 
Bucky snatched it with a glare. “It would be much more helpful if you sorted this chaos rather than stand here and be a smartass.” He looked at the invite, the familiar company logo printed in the top right corner. “And why are people even sending paper invites anymore? We’re a security firm,” he sat the paper down and tapped on it with his index finger, “just shows how desperately they need consulting.” 
“Don’t blame me for it.” Nat threw her hands in the air. “And stop complaining. I know you’re the cyber guy but a couple papers shouldn’t faze you. I’ve got more important things to do that don’t particularly fall in your area of expertise.” She turned to leave but Bucky stopped her before her heels could reach the threshold. 
“Are you saying your job is harder than mine?” Bucky watched the mess on his desk, then the computer screen with his calendar and the impending meeting with those jackasses from Hydra Enterprises. There was no way sorting a couple of papers could be worse than Alexander Pierce and his nephew Brock Rumlow. One of them barely knew how to send an E-mail and the other kept subtly asking if it was legal to install cameras in the lady’s room. 
“If you’re referring to your inability to sort a couple files, then yes, I assume you wouldn’t last a day with my tasks.” 
“Now that’s bullshit.”
“Is it now?” She raised her left eyebrow with a half-smirk. “I want to see you deal with idiots when scheduling appointments and keeping everyone’s day structured while also organizing the annual fundraiser.”
Bucky huffed, leaning back and crossing his arms before his chest. He averted his eyes from his assistant and the stupid pile of paperwork in front of him. He really did not want to sort through all of that. 
“Call me old fashioned but I believe assistants should sort files.” He shrugged, knowing Natasha wouldn’t let him off that easily. They had been working together for years, he respected her as much as his other friends. And presenting the fierce redhead with a challenge to get out of some annoying tasks was something he would gladly do. 
“I’ll tell you what. I will sort your papers in my assistant duties.” She made a mockery curtsy - as much as her skirt allowed - and then lifted her finger before the smile could spread on Bucky’s face. “If... you plan the charity event.”
Bucky was shocked. He didn’t expect her to play dirty - well to be fair, it wouldn’t be Nat if she weren’t teasing a little bit - but still. “You think you can handle that, boss?” 
Bucky closed his mouth and eyed her suspiciously. It couldn’t be that hard to do. And certainly would be a nice distraction from the impending meeting of doom as well as the following consulting sessions. He let his head fall back and stared at the ceiling. 
Was he really going to trade some papers for a whole Gala? That paperwork really sucked. He loved how easily he could wash through files on his computer. Sadly, his programs didn’t help much in the analog part of the job. 
“Are you backing down, Barnes?” Nat’s teasing voice rang through to him and he snapped back into his attitude. 
“Never.” He stood up, fixed his suit, and then reached his hand toward her. Natasha shook it with an evil smirk. “Always a pleasure doing business with you, Ms. Romanoff.”
And with that, she took the papers from Bucky’s desk and carried them out of his office with a triumphant smile. 
❁ ❁ ❁
It wasn’t long before Bucky regretted his decision. 
What had he been thinking? A Fundraiser... a fucking fundraiser. Bucky couldn’t care less about them. 
Okay, that wasn’t true. He deemed charity to be a very important part of society... and economy. There were times in his life when he was close to needing their help as well. And Bucky swore he’d never let that aspect of his story slip from his mind ever. Still, it didn’t prevent him from living lavishly and making use of the things he had access to now. 
Usually, the organization of the charity gala was stuck on Nat and Sharon. Mainly because they had always done an amazing job. The tabloids had only positive things to write about it and always pushed the number before Christmas even higher. Which urged Bucky even more to do just as good of a job this year. 
There was just one problem. 
He had no idea how to organize events this size. Bucky could program a software from scratch, hack into classified state files on a bad day. Hell, he could track every person’s phone in New York in his sleep. But he never expected to be overwhelmed by a couple invites and color palettes. 
Though as little as he knew about his new task, he liked a challenge, and he would most certainly not give Natasha the satisfaction of asking her for a checklist. 
So, the internet had to do for now. He’d found a blog by a highly motivated suburban mom, that led with step-by-step instructions on how to plan the perfect event. It might not have been on the scale of what Bucky had to do, but considering his lack of knowledge on the topic, he figured this would do until Natasha snatched the task away from him again. 
The first thing on the list was to find a date and venue. But since the gala of Shield Protection Services was always held at the same venue, Bucky figured they had booked it indefinitely for the event. 
Next was to find the perfect florist that ‘is able to put your vision into extravagant floral arrangements’. Yeah... that was another problem. 
Bucky didn’t buy flowers. The only women he deemed important enough in his life to get them were his sister and his mother. And well, both of them had passed away. So, picking the right flowers hadn’t been a problem until now. His mother and sister were always enchanted by the bouquets they received when Bucky was younger. He’d steal them from their neighbor‘s garden. But since he could grow a beard, Bucky hadn’t even touched flowers anymore.
Well, that had to change now. 
Bucky stepped into the elevator just to be greeted by big round eyes and an even wider smile. “Paying Steve a visit?” Bucky teased with a half smile as he hugged Bambi and then faced the doors. 
“I’m actually meeting Natasha for lunch,” she shifted from one foot to the other, “I didn’t realize she was already at the restaurant... so that’s where I’m headed now.”
Bucky chuckled at her slight awkwardness. But it wouldn’t be Bambi if she wouldn’t miss such a detail. 
“Do you need a ride? My driver’s waiting for me anyway.”
“Tha- yes that would be nice, thank you.”
Bucky just nodded and gestured for her to lead the way when they reached the ground floor. 
“Where are you going?” Bambi asked as he stared out the window of the car. They had told the driver where they needed to go. And Since Bucky had no particular destination in mind, it worked out well. 
“I’m on the hunt for the perfect flower shop to cater to my vision of our charity event.” He chuckled and shook his head at his own words. He’s never thought he’d say this.  
Her eyes peered at him with intrigue, a glimmer washing over them when she asked: “Are you taking suggestions?”
Bucky sat up straighter now. “Uh, yes. Gladly.” This was easier than he thought. 
“There is this wonderful shop in Brooklyn. It’s called AsGarden on 18th Avenue. You can’t miss it, it’s like a breath of fresh air between all those ugly beige buildings. The woman owning it has great taste, she managed to make the perfect bouquet for me without ever seeing me.” She turned forward, a little flustered, “Steve gets me flowers from there sometimes, they’re my favorite.”
“Did you hear that, Stan?” A victorious smile spread on Bucky’s face as he squeezed Bambi’s shoulder. “Next stop is Brooklyn.”
“Alright, Sir.”
“You don’t know how much easier you just made my life.” Bucky leaned forward and kissed her cheek before the car came to a stop and he bid her goodbye. 
“I’m glad I could help.” She waved back and then headed into the restaurant. 
Maybe the event wasn’t so difficult after all, Bucky thought as he leaned back in his seat, his legs spreading in satisfaction.
❁ ❁ ❁
The cool air snook through your shop when the familiar bell of a customer chimed above the door. You’d seen many people frequent your shop daily. Women, men, teenagers, elderly. All came from different backgrounds and varying stories in their repertoire. Your store was in the heart of Brooklyn - a bunch of people mixed in this town. And you’d made it your mission to find the perfect flower arrangement for each and every one of them. 
The man who had set off your little bell this afternoon was different though. A perfectly tailored coat adorned his broad shoulders. The way his hands were tucked in his pockets revealed the expensive-looking suit beneath as well as the toned chest that hid beneath the button-up in vain. His presence oozed money as he sashayed through your shop, carefully grazing delicate pedals with the aura he brought in. 
He seemed to own the world, but something about him just didn’t fit between the colorful flowers surrounding him. If you didn’t know any better, he looked a little lost, eyes glassy as they swayed through the sea of colors and shapes soaking in fresh water. 
“Good afternoon, sir. Can I help you?”
He ripped around, fixed his posture, and approached the cash desk. When his eyes landed on you, he froze. Just for a second, however, and then his jaw snapped into a handsome smile as he leaned forward. 
“I sure hope so.” His white teeth flashed between his lips before his tongue stroked over them. It was capturing. “This flower shop has been recommended to me. You wouldn’t happen to be the owner?”
“Well actually, I am,” you smiled hiding the pride swelling in your chest from the comment.
“Great. What is your capacity when it comes to event arrangements?”
“That depends...” You smiled as the handsome stranger raised his eyebrows in intrigue. “I reckon we have vastly different understandings of what is small and... big.” Your eyes wandered over his expensive coat again. The innuendo was accidental, really, but he seemed to be amused nevertheless. 
“My company is hosting its annual charity event in November... at The Glasshouse.”
“So just as I suspected...” You nodded and strode past him towards the fall flowers.
“Pardon me?”
You turned your head towards him and winked. “Bigger than I thought.”
“So?” He approached you with his hands still in his coat pockets and peeked over your shoulder. “Can you do it?”
“Totally.” Then you gestured to the flowers. “Do you have any preferences? I don’t have all the flowers in yet, but I recommend going with some soft orange and sage tones... to cater to the season.”
“Forgive me, sweetheart, but I am useless when it comes to this kind of stuff. My qualities lie more in the technical aspect of things.” A hand ran through his thick dark hair and the gesture made him look boyish.
“Alright let me rephrase my question then: Do you trust me?” A sly smile sneaked on his face, matching yours. 
He tipped his head. “My life is in your hands.” 
“Good. Then please write down your details here.” You pushed a form over the counter once you reached it again, and the man just followed you around like a lost dog. You watched as his hand swiftly filled out the free spaces on the paper, curious which company he had been referring to. 
“Wait you’re working for SPS?” 
“I own it, sweetheart.” The man adjusted his coat as you tried to look unimpressed. “My name is James Barnes, but you can call me Bucky.” His hand extended over the shiny countertop until it encased your smaller fingers and his warmth seeped through your body. 
Bucky’s smile brightened when you revealed your name to him, telling you how beautiful it was, and you began to struggle not to show the effects it had on you. Then he resumed filling out the order and slid it over to you again. 
“What cause are you raising money for this year?” You asked as you sorted the paper into your books, only to be surprised when Bucky seemed a little nervous all of a sudden. 
You knew Shield Protection Services was a pristine company with reach to people whose powers you could barely comprehend. Whatever they were choosing, it would have a big impact on the change their chosen organization was advocating. 
“Well, to be honest... we haven’t decided yet.” A silly idea hushed through your head at that, but you dismissed it. A company such as Bucky’s would raise sums only big fish could handle. There wasn’t space for the things you had in mind. 
“I hope you’ll do so soon, then.” You nodded thoughtfully and ended with a tight-lipped smile. 
Bucky nodded and smiled, then turned around and headed for the door. But before he could open it, he came back again. You looked up to see a black card held before you. 
“I’d be happy for suggestions... if you have any in mind.” He shrugged with that cheeky look of his and then left. And you just stood there, dumbfounded, and toying with the ridiculous idea that Bucky Barnes might actually be able to read minds. 
❁ ❁ ❁
“Rogers really couldn’t make it?” Tony asked as he leaned back in the leather booth of his very own establishment. He tipped his emptied whiskey glass towards the slender redhead at the bar and smiled as she rushed to get his refill ready. 
“He promised Bambi to be home...” Bucky trailed off as he watched a customer hit on the waitress - Tiffany he remembered - A pretty thing, but unfortunately incredibly hollow when it came to conversation... not that Bucky looked for anything like it.  
Tony huffed. “That woman has him wrapped around her finger!” He liked Bambi, everyone did, he just missed hanging out with his guys. 
“Just wait until you find the one, Tony,” Sam chimed in with a sly smirk on his face - a hopeful, yet cautious hint as Sam secretly loved the idea of all his friends finally finding the one. He was a romantic, Bucky knew it, even if Sam never actually said it. 
“Me? I would never give up my glorious bachelor life for one woman. There are way too many things to explore...”
“Mark my words, Stark. We’ll look back to this day and laugh about this incredibly jackassy statement. You, too will be finding the one. I just know it.”
Bucky chuckled and tipped his glass on the Table as the bickering of his friends faded into background noise. For some reason, he didn’t feel like adding to the conversation. He blamed it on the banality of a conversation both he and Tony had long decided on, but perhaps, it was because for once in his life, he considered taking Sam’s side on the topic. 
It was ridiculous, really, how fast you’d occupied his mind when it came to Sam’s comment about finding ‘the one’. He didn’t even know you aside from the ‘background check’ he conducted after his visit to your shop. That might have covered your personal details, but he still didn’t know if you were a dog person or preferred cats, or if you were vegan or vegetarian, or if you considered kids in your future. 
Bucky cleared his throat and sat up straighter when he felt the fluster creep up his neck. What the hell was happening to him? He wasn’t like this at all. Women occupied his mind for about as long as it took for him to make them come undone in his hands. When he was with them, his full attention was on them - he loved them - but he’d never let them control his life. James “Bucky” Barnes never even considered seeing them twice, let alone thinking about a future with them. 
Though, to Bucky’s displeasure - or pleasure (he hadn’t decided yet) - the thought of seeing you again wasn’t uncomfortable to him. On the contrary, he got a weird tingly feeling in his stomach when he remembered the smell of the flowers in your shop and how your delicate fingers carefully picked out the prettiest ones. Bucky sat his drink down with a clink. Maybe he’d had enough alcohol for tonight.
“Barnes, how come you’re not defending me here? Have you grown soft or something? Do you have a girl we don’t know about?” Tony’s nagging broke through to Bucky and the whole bar reached back into his consciousness.
“Sorry, what?” He stuttered, shaking his thought and trying to find a good answer to his friend’s remark. “I was distracted by Betty.” Bucky smiled sheepishly as he received a clap on his shoulder. 
“That’s my man.” Tony grinned and Sam huffed into his whiskey. And Bucky? He just sunk into his seat, feeling somehow shameful for the white lie he had made up.
❁ ❁ ❁
The SPS office was impressive. Amongst the old New York brick building surrounding it, it reached up into the sky with its glass front everything. But you wouldn’t be fooled by its fragile looks. This was one of the most secure buildings in the city. You’d read about it in an article some time back - the whole hype about the company was their way of making fragile-looking things indestructible. You couldn’t see through the “windows” from the outside. And you wouldn’t be able to launch a rocket through it either. SPS had patented their stronger-than-steel-glass years ago, making them the leading security company in the world. 
To say you had been a little surprised to see the very owner of said company on your side of town would be an understatement. But besides his incredibly adamant way of flirting, he was quite normal to talk to. He’d even asked you for advice on the cause they should donate to this year. And after having thought about it for the better part of what should have been your sleep time, you had decided to just try and pitch your idea. 
“Do you have an appointment Ms.?” A stunning redhead peered up at you from her desk, her nails clicked on the keyboard of her computer as she waited for your answer. You didn’t really know why you thought getting to Bucky was going to be easy. The security guard had already eyed you suspiciously at the front desk in the lobby. After you’d smiled at him as charmingly as you could, he’d decided to let you be someone else’s problem today - or maybe he just didn’t see you as a threat - whatever it was, it had gotten you this far. But what were you gonna say now?
Actually, I don’t have an appointment, but Mr Barnes met me yesterday and after thinking about him all night, I decided to pay him a visit today.
Yeah, that wouldn’t cut it. Not in this office. The redhead - N. Romanoff - was what her sign said, made that fairly clear with the way her lips pursed at the opened calendar on the screen. 
“You don’t happen to have to discuss something not suited for work with Mr. Barnes, do you? I know he tends to leave some of his meetings... open-ended.” 
Your eyes got wide. “God, no. I’m not-“ Your hands made a swishing motion between you two and then you took a breath. “I’m here to discuss business. Purely business. Mr. Barnes has made an order at my shop for the company fundraiser and I just want to discuss some details.” 
Her eyes glimmered when her lips pulled into a smile. “Did he now?” She peered over to catch the look of the blonde assistant a few feet next to her and then back to you. “Well if that is the case, please have a seat, I’ll tell him you’re here.” And with that, she got up, winked, and wrapped at the large wooden door presumably leading to Bucky’s office. 
She came back a minute later and gestured for you to enter. “Lucky for you, his meeting just got canceled, so you should have enough time.”
“Thank you.” And then Ms. Romanoff went back to her desk and started whispering to the blonde assistant. 
Bucky sat behind his desk, a sleek glass surface lightly cluttered with papers. Other than that, the room felt cool, the large rug by the seating area did little to cover the marbled floors. You stepped inside just as Bucky called out your name. You almost didn't see the wide smile on his face as the rising sun hung low on the horizon behind him, casting a halo-like glow around his silhouette. What a freaking entrance. Though Bucky surely couldn’t control the sun, you thought with a small smile, you really had to stop imagining this man was extraordinary. 
“You’re here.” He got up and walked towards you, his sleek back shoes echoing on the ground. And then he was next to you, leading you to the seat in front of his desk with his hand on the small of your back. “What brings me the honor of your visit, darling.”
He leaned on his desk with his arms crossed, a pleasant smile on his lips. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice that you came by, but you do have my number, don’t you?”
“I do.” You cleared your throat, trying to sound as convincing as possible. “I was hoping you had some time to spare, actually. I find the phone to be a little... impersonal.”
Bucky’s eyes shined with intrigue as he leaned forward, pinning you to the chair with his gaze. He licked his lips. “Show me what exactly?”
“You’ll see.” You smirked. “I happen to know that your next meeting just got canceled.”
Bucky got even closer, his breath hitting your neck with every word he spoke. “And I’ll gladly cancel the rest, too.” A shiver shot over your arms, his cologne seemingly intoxicating you. But before you could respond, he backed up, grabbing his coat and gesturing towards the door. “Lead the way.” 
And so you did. 
❁ ❁ ❁
Bucky was suspicious when you pulled him into the subway, but he decided against saying something. He had told you he trusted you after all, and though Bucky considered himself a lot of things, a flake was not one of them. So he let it happen. 
It wasn’t half bad, either. Somewhere between his office door and the train, you had taken his hand in yours to pull him along faster. Bucky had noticed his lips spreading into a smile. It didn't last long, unfortunately. Because as he had made eye contact with an elderly lady who had then proceeded to tell you what a beautiful couple you were, you had pulled your hand away with an awkward laugh. 
‘Oh, God, no, we’re not together, ma’am.’ 
Admittedly, Bucky felt a little sting in his chest ever since. In fact, he was rubbing his hand over his shirt at this very moment. You were walking along a street in Brooklyn, not too far from your shop. The neighborhood was a little more run-down than he was used to, certainly nothing like the part of town he lived in. But he kept quiet still. Maybe he was a little butthurt from your earlier aversion about the couple comment, but to be fair, Bucky wasn’t used to women denying him - except Nat. 
You suddenly stopped, making Bucky almost run into you and then stare at you in question. But when you gestured towards the sign above the two-story building, his gaze softened. 
There, above the blue-painted metal doors, hung a faded sign. Bucky could make out the orange and yellow stripes on the board, a big Sunflower painted in the middle of it all. ‘Sunflower -Shelter & Food’.
“Hey, are you coming or are you glued to the ground?” Your voice rang from the entrance, he hadn’t even noticed that you already moved inside. 
Bucky gulped when his eyes swayed back to you and then down his own body. If he was going to step in there in the outfit he was currently wearing, he would look like the biggest asshole on the planet. 
“I can’t go in there.”
“Why not?”
He just gestured towards his clothes, his Rolex glinting in the sunlight for good measure. But there was no reaction from you. You stood in the doorway, pursing your lips seemingly in thought, and then shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly. “I guess you’ll just have to deal with it then.”
“What?” He called your name. But when he realized you weren’t joking, he caught up to you as fast as possible. Because the only thing worse than showing up there looking like he did was doing it alone, he decided swiftly. 
“‘Think now might be a good time to mention that this is not a very good place for a date,” Bucky mumbled next to you before closing his coat, trying to hide the even more expensive suit beneath. 
“How would you know?” You turned to him. “This isn’t a date, is it?”
Bucky just smirked and then he watched you greet a young boy with a warm hug, and man he imagined what it would be like to have you hug him like that. 
“Peter this is Bucky, Bucky, Peter.” You pulled him towards you by his hand again. “I brought him along to help today, thought we always need an extra pair of hands around here.”
“Pleasure to meet you, sir.” Peter reached his hand out, slightly frowning when he took in his appearance but did not say anything. “Any help is always welcome here. Come, I’ll show you what we’re doing today.” 
Within ten minutes, Bucky had an apron and gloves on and was ordered to cut the biggest stack of potatoes he’d ever seen. You were happily chatting away with the other helpers and Bucky, for the first time in a long time, felt ...normal. 
Nobody was recognizing him in the crowd, there was no talk about business and investments, and there were no fucking cameras. Here, people recognized him for what he came to do, help. And it felt weird. Bucky wasn’t quiet about his lavish lifestyle around his crowds. He knew the privilege he had, and he had worked for it enough to be proud of it. But it was like he had entered a different universe in this part of town. All the things he deemed normal, were things so far from imagination here, they were left out of conversations entirely. So, he tried to remember this whenever he was offered a conversation. 
“You do this every day?” He asked into the kitchen while struggling to peel his 5th potato. 
“Whenever we can.” An older woman answered with a smile. She was the one who had shown him how to use the peeler faster. “They are people just like you and me. They have to eat every day, too, Bucky.”
Bucky just nodded in silence at the humbling answer, his cheeks felt hot with embarrassment at how naive he had been. 
Two hours later, he was standing by your side at the serving station, plating mashed potatoes and the accommodating ‘you’re welcome’ every once in a while. He rarely was out of his comfort zone, like today. But he also knew that, whenever he felt unsure, he’d look at you and you’d gift him an encouraging gesture that kept him going a little while longer. 
After everyone had their food, you gave Bucky a tour of the premises. 
There was a small courtyard, a couple rooms with telephones and a computer, some sofas and pillows. Nothing fancy but functional nonetheless. You led him through every room, explaining curtly what it was for and then you led him up the stairs.
On your way up, you passed Peter, who was helping a child find its toy and Bucky felt a lump form in his throat at all the new impressions he was fed today.
He cleared his throat. “Peter... is he?”
You shook your head. “Not exactly. His parents died when he was quite young. Lucky for him, though, he has always been a bright kid. He got a scholarship for every school he ever went to. But he spends most of his free time here. He has this urge to help wherever he can. Took me a couple months to keep him from skipping his lectures.” You chuckled and led him through the next door. 
Bucky nodded with adoration. Not many people dedicated their time to something that would not benefit them directly. And while Bucky knew what a dedicated mind was capable of, he had to admit that his efforts were always motivated by personal gain. 
“He’s very admirable for that.” 
You just hummed in response. “I don’t think he chose it himself. Not that I think he wouldn’t. But this shelter belonged to his uncle and aunt. They died when he was in high school. He’s working hard to keep this place alive. As do we all.”
The next room you entered was resembling a classroom. “What happens here?”
“Most of the children are registered for the public school of this district. But they don’t always make it there. This room gives them the opportunity to catch up on missed work. We also have adult classes here, preparing for job interviews and such.”
The next hallway presented doors, all leading to bedrooms, as you explained to Bucky when you walked through the corridor. The last door was larger than the others - a double swing leading to a big sanitary area. Showers, toilets, and sinks lined the walls - all run down but functional. 
“This place could use some serious renovating,” Bucky mumbled, but he was sure you had heard him. Because you looked up at him now, a sad smile decorating your beautiful face. 
“We try to make it as clean and cozy as possible here, but we just don’t have the necessary financial means for it. It works for now. The people coming here need very little. But it’s only a matter of time until the roof needs redoing or the pipes or the windows, or the-“
“Yeah...” Bucky trailed off, making you stop and giving him a break to breathe. He usually wasn’t surrounded by people unable to get out of unfortunate situations. The clients he spent his time with ordered his services to protect the material things they’d bought for status and fun. It was something entirely different when you were robbed of your place to sleep. 
“Well, this completes my humble tour.” You clasped your hands together and proceeded to look at your watch. “I think it’s time to go home.”
You descended the stairs in silence, Peter hugged Bucky goodbye and when he stepped foot back on the sidewalk, Bucky turned around to the sign once more. You stood beneath it, leaning against the doorframe and smiling at him. It was dark out now. 
“Are you not coming?” He asked watching as you shook your head. 
“Peter has an exam tomorrow. I offered to stay the night.”
“Here? Alone?”
“Yes.” 
Bucky stepped towards you again. “Then I’m go-“
“Stop.” Your hand reached for his shoulder, the touch sending him straight back to a haze. “Don’t do this. I know how you feel. There’s this sadness inside you now. You saw this for the first time. It feels awful - I know.” You retracted your hand and pushed yourself off the doorframe. “But until you don’t see anything other than pity for these people, you can’t be here without breaking.”
“Doll...”
“Bucky, I'm serious. Go home. Sleep on it. Try to understand the situation.” 
Bucky couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this helpless. He just stared at you, unable to move or say anything. He didn’t like the idea of you staying here alone at night. And though the feeling of caring for someone he’d only known for two days so much scared him, he pushed it aside. 
You leaned forward and hugged him goodbye and then the cold night surrounded him again. “Thank you for trusting me today.” And then you turned around and left him standing outside alone. 
❁ ❁ ❁
Your purple-inked pen marked the date in your calendar. 
“That’s an unusually big order, Steve...” You looked up at the blonde frequenting your shop every so often. He’d always get the pink carnations for his girlfriend. Apparently, she loved them after you bound them in the first bouquet you ever sold to Steve. He was a simple man, you could tell, so his usual orders were just as such. But not today. “Are you planning anything special?”
The handsome customer blushed with an innocent smile. “Actually...” He scratched the back of his neck. “I’m planning to propose.” He looked so sheepish when you clasped your hands in excitement.
“Oh, that’s amazing. Congratulations!”
“Well not yet.” He cleared his throat, visibly trying to compose himself. But this giant pretty man in front of you was adorably nervous. 
“I just know she’ll say yes,” you mused and made a note to reserve some more carnations for his order - a couple simple arrangements that held so much meaning.
“How do you know?”
You watched Steve peer over to you with hopeful eyes. “It’s not every day a man puts so much effort and thought into what bouquet to get his girlfriend on a casual Monday evening each week.” You winked and Steve nodded lost in thought. 
“To be honest, I haven’t even thought about her saying no. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”
“You shouldn’t worry too much. You are a good man, everyone can see that. And just to be sure, I’ll make the most perfect flowers ever. Paired with your charming ways, there will be no other option but to say yes.”
He relaxed a little. “Great. Thank you.” And then he turned to leave your shop. 
“I’ll have them ready by Friday.” You smiled. 
“Thank you... so much.” Steve smiled and you knew there was so much more hidden in his gesture.
❁ ❁ ❁
It had become a habit that Bucky visited the shelter with you once a week. Admittedly, you were surprised he even cared enough to free his schedule so religiously. But as of the past four weeks, he had shown up at your shop, walked with you to Sunflower shelters, mingled with the people, and then even walked you home. 
It was actually kind of refreshing, seeing him so invested and kind of protective. There weren’t many guys in the city that cared enough to get you home safely. Peter offered more times than often, but you rather knew him safe at the shelter than try to fight a gangster double his size out of the kindness of his heart and the deep wish to somehow become a superhero one day.
So Bucky had to do it for now. Not that you were complaining. He was handsome and charming and interesting to converse with given the vastly different lives you lived. But he tried to adapt. Ever since the incident on the first day, he had even tried to wear less wealth-telling clothing, though he seemed to not always hit the mark just right. 
In a way, bucky was a little fashion icon. You’d noticed it in his colorful waistcoats, the intricate details on his shoes, or the fancy cufflinks adorning his oxford-cotton shirts. He tried to dress down. But to your surprise, the color remained. Instead of waistcoats and dress shirts, he wore regular t-shirts. His confidence never wavered.  
A little smile hushed across your face every time you looked at him. The pink shirt he wore combined with the green apron he had been given, made him look like a lollipop. A Beautiful one, that was. With a dashing smile and an adorable frown as he tried to separate the peas from the pod. 
“So... how is the gala coming along?” You teased him a little having noticed how unusual this task was for him. Throughout your few meetings, you had gotten to know Bucky quite well. And apart from his statement the very day he stepped foot into your shop, he revealed to you more and more how difficult the project was for him.
“Let’s just say I’m glad I can count on the flower arrangements,” he grumbles as a pea slipped from his fingers and across the table. 
“That bad, huh?”
His hands stopped working. “The Band canceled on me again and I seem to run after every other arrangement I have made so far. If I had known how much work-“ he huffed and then shook his head with an even deeper frown. 
“Hey, it’s okay to not be good at everything.” You encouraged him, your elbow nudging his side as you smiled lightly. “There has got to be something humbling you. Makes you seem more human.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“I meant to ask you...” You picked up your task to avoid his eyes that were suddenly on you again. “How come you’re the one organizing the gala?”
Bucky chuckled, his head shaking for what seemed like the hundredth time today. “I made a deal with my assistant.” 
“What was in it for you?” You threw a couple peas in the strainer and Bucky did the same.
He shrugged. “I got to hand off some paperwork.”
Wow. “Seriously? A bit of paperwork seems like a poor trade for months of organizing something so important.”
Bucky laughed, the sound warming your stomach from the inside out and finally making you look at him again. It was little moments like this in which he felt so careless and relaxed. You liked to believe the shelter did it to him, or maybe even you. But primarily, you were glad he laid off his work self just then. “Yeah it might have not been my smartest move... but I don’t mind it really.”
“Why’s that?” Your eyes locked and you suddenly became very aware of how close the two of you were standing. 
“If it weren’t for the deal, I would have never met you.” There was something so honest and pure about the way he had stated this so plainly. And for a moment, you liked to forget that he might have just meant your suggestion to donate to Sunflower. That maybe, the funny fluttery feeling in your stomach wasn’t one-sided, and that you too meant something greater to him than the coincidences that led him into your shop that day. 
A wide smile spread on Bucky’s face and then he winked. He freaking winked at you. And while you turned back to your peas, desperate to hide the fluster on your face, you had to remind yourself that this was Bucky fucking Barnes and that he knew what he was doing.
About two hours later, you sat amongst the people currently living at the shelter, sharing the meal you had prepared for them with the hopes of getting them through another day. You and Bucky were sitting with Gabe Jones, a veteran whose post-traumatic stress disorder had cost him everything after the Vietnam War. He was always telling stories of his time on the front - a way to cope with his horrible past. By now, you and Peter had probably heard every single one of his stories twice. But Bucky was on the edge of his seat. Listening with intrigue as the food on his plate remained untouched. 
“It was ’68 when I was sent out. There were soldiers who done already survived a year or so at the front. And, son, I am sayin’ survived ‘cause you couldn’t call that livin’.” Gabe shook his head before pointing his fork to his shoulder. “Caught a grenade in ’69 and on our way to camp, they shot at the helicopter. Lost my right arm and comrade that day. The damn arm’s gone but I’m gon’ have the memory forever.”
The words didn’t seem to affect the veteran anymore, but they never failed to leave their recipients shocked and wondering. It was always the same question: How can someone fight for a country, leave their life for a country, and end up here?
And honestly? You didn’t know. 
“I’m so sorry, sir.” Bucky swallowed as his eyes fled over to yours. “Thank you for your service.”
“Notin’ to be sorry ‘bout.” Gabe waved his hand and then pointed at Bucky’s plate. “You eatin’ that?” 
Bucky just shook his head and pushed his plate towards Gabe, a somber state overtaking his body. You did feel a little bad. But you also knew that Gabe wasn’t affected by sympathies and that he was happy at Sunflower - though he preferred the street over the beds here. While he had spent just another day existing, he had simultaneously opened Bucky’s eyes to the severity of making stories like his more known. 
By now you were pretty confident, Bucky would choose the homeless as recipients for his company’s fundraiser sum. But he surprised you by getting involved with the people here over and over again, willing to learn and to understand. 
The walk to your apartment building that evening was awfully quiet. Bucky had insisted he walk on the street side of the sidewalk, buried his hands in his coat pockets, and shut up ever since.
You knew he was contemplating, letting the day play on repeat in his mind. He probably had a lot of questions, a lot of frustration, and worry. Nothing unfamiliar to you, but something you’d learned to deal with ever since helping out at Sunflower. 
“Don’t feel bad,” you said when you stopped in front of the familiar brick building you called home. 
“How?”
“Feeling bad isn’t helping them. You have the power to change things.” It was an awfully dry response, but the truth hurt sometimes. 
Bucky just looked at you through hooded eyes, a knowing nod shaking his features as he watched slowly take a step back toward your front door. 
“Thank you,” he suddenly released - steady and calm. “For taking me. For helping me see...” 
You couldn’t help yourself. The confession overwhelmed you. Knowing you had succeeded in showing him what was so important to you overwhelmed you. You leaped forward and slung your arms around him, pressing tightly into his chest. 
Bucky’s arms found their way around you in an instant, the hug conveying so much more than just a goodbye. It was a ‘thank you’ a ‘this means the world to me’.
After about a minute, you leaned up to him and placed a kiss to his cheek. “I’m also glad you took the deal, Bucky.” You whispered into his ear, feeling the smile on his face on your cheek. 
When he finally released you, it seemed like the spell was gone. Bucky was back to burying his hands in his pockets, only the faint remnants of a smile hinting towards your earlier interaction. You hadn’t realized how much this would affect him. You had forgotten how long you fought with yourself until you could act normal around the people at Sunflower yourself. 
“Do you want to come up?” You threw your thumb over your shoulder at the entrance of the building with a lopsided smile. “Don’t want that cheap bottle of merlot to go bad.”
Bucky’s eyes brightened underneath the street lights and the wide boyish grin returned to his face. “We can’t have that, can we?”
❁ ❁ ❁
To say Bucky’s heart had skipped a beat at your invitation would have been an understatement. It did somersaults and ended with an impressive backflip. He’d not expected a move from your side. Especially, since the last time he had picked you up, the universe had flipped him the bird by sending two of his former one-night-stands your way. He had been able to shake them off before they were able to yell at him or reveal more of what their connection to him was. But that marked the first time he was a little embarrassed by his late endeavors. You had acted like nothing happened, but since that night, Bucky hadn’t stopped wondering what you thought of him. 
You lead him up the narrow staircase to a red wooden door, the color chipping by the floor as an indicator of having to kick it to open sometimes. Beyond the door, it was cozy and warm. Every corner of your place had a memory placed in it - a self-made quilt or a photograph. When you walked through it, Bucky could feel the love and time this place had seen. 
It was nothing like his own apartment: a penthouse standing high above the city, with sleek black surfaces and cold marble wherever you reached. Here, he felt the need to take his shoes off, to feel the fuzzy carpets on the scratched-up wooden floors. Your place wasn’t sterile like his, it felt... like a good hug. 
Bucky snorted as the result of a breath he released. Never before had he cared about what his place lacked. It was expensive and pristine, clean and big. And even though your apartment was about the size of his living room, it had so much more to offer. 
“The living room is right through there, you can choose a movie if you like.” Your voice called out from somewhere Bucky assumed to be the kitchen as he kicked off his shoes and made himself comfortable on the rust-colored sofa that had more pillows than necessary. It was super comfortable, though. And the lack of space due to the pillows forced you to sit a little closer to him, so he wasn’t complaining.
“Your place is... cute.” He stated as you handed him a glass of wine and laughed. 
“It’s a shoebox but I do love it very much. Probably nothing compared to what you’re used to.”
Bucky shook his head and took a sip. The wine did taste cheap, but he did not care. “Bigger isn’t always better.” His arm was spread on the backrest but your whole body was turned to him. “It has a lot of character.”
“Oh god, please stop, you’re just making it sound worse.” Your hand came up to hide your face but your smile peeked through the gesture. 
Bucky laughed. “I didn’t mean it condescendingly. I really do like it. Reminds me of my childhood home.”
“Are you close with your family?” Bucky was surprised by the question. Maybe it was because his friends never talked about his family, or because the peers he hung out with tended to discuss business rather than sentimental. But he realized that nobody had asked him about it for a long time.
And so he began talking. Bucky talked about his parents and how both of them died early in his life. He told you how close he was with his sister until she got adopted into another family. He spoke about his childhood with Steve and how they’d met Sam and Tony in college, about the night they had the idea for Shield Protective Services, and finally the day he was told his sister had passed away. 
Throughout his story, you had leaned into him closer, hanging onto his every word until your hand had to support your body on his thigh and Bucky suddenly stopped talking. 
Your glasses were emptied, the bottle as well, and Bucky gulped when he felt the heat from your hand travel throughout his entire body. 
“So... that’s my story.” He had to clear his throat to gain his usual timber back, his hands becoming sweaty when you blinked next to him. “What about you, dove?”
“Dove?” You smiled, yet intrigued by the name that had slipped past his lips in the trance of the moment. He’d only ever called you that in his thoughts. Attributed the nickname to you the second he realized it was the most fitting one of them all. 
“You don’t like it?” He asked, his arm slipping towards your shoulder ever so slightly. 
“I like it.” You smiled. “I just want to know... why this one?”
A hush of giddiness crawled up his throat when he thought about his answer. It was the way you had welcomed him so easily into this world of yours. How you were willing to show him the things precious to you. That you trusted him with this very opportunity to help. Every day he spent with you he felt it, found that between coding his new security program and meeting with Hydra enterprises, its somber reality sent him into a feeling of breathing fresh air. You created a button that turned off the noise in his head. “Because you bring me peace.”
Your eyes stared at him in wonder when he tilted your chin with his thumb and index finger. There was appreciation and happiness, he could see it, feel it. 
Bucky was entranced by your stare when your voice whispered a response to him: “That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever been told.”
You leaned forward and Bucky’s heart threatened to jump out of his chest, and then your face fell into his chest, your arms encasing him in the warmest hug he’d ever received. He willed his pulse to slow and wrapped his arms around you tightly. A little humbled and a little confused, but appreciative of the situation nonetheless. 
You stayed like this when you chose a movie to watch. Even after an hour, Bucky’s grip didn’t loosen. He peered down at you on his chest and watched as you fell asleep. And when he was sure you were far away in your slumber, he pressed a warm kiss to your head, lingering in the scent of your shampoo.  
❁ ❁ ❁
Bucky stared at his computer screen as the pen in his hand clicked on his glass desk in perfect rhythm. The Shelter website displayed on the surface, portraying a brighter version of the sign you had dragged him to that very first day. 
But it wasn’t the heartfelt story behind the building or the way his pen clicked slightly more hollow every other tap because he turned it too much that had him zoned out at work. It was - as unbelievable as it sounded - a woman. Not just any, no. You. 
“Hey, I need a signature from you for this design draft.” Steve dropped his notepad on the desk, then rounded it and settled behind Bucky who had yet to recognize his presence. 
“This your charity suggestion?” He questioned with his hands on his friend’s office chair. 
Bucky nodded absentmindedly. Perhaps it was because he had decided to support your suggestion the second you had taken his hand on his way to the subway. Or maybe he was just letting his mind roam freely again. Mainly because it was a safe bet to call you into memory and he liked the feeling it provided. 
A pale hand waved in front of his face. “Earth to Bucky.” Steve snapped his fingers, making the brunette jump. “You seem oddly distracted.”
He had been thinking about you. Of course, he had. There seemed to be nothing else he could do lately. Every time Bucky read through his reports, he imagined what your voice would sound like reading them to him. Whenever he went down to IT, he envisioned the room decorated with your flowers and how much happier they would make the place. When he sat in a meeting with HR and watched their burnt-out faces stare back at him through their coffee haze, he wondered if you could make them as lively as you made him. 
Bucky could - so he realized after weeks of denial - not escape you. 
That was one thing. But the more chilling revelation was that he did not mind. He enjoyed the little admonitions his mind set out in his environment. He appreciated the quickening thumb in his chest, whenever he saw his calendar entries stating another meeting with you - so much so that he almost forgot how unusual it was for him. 
It was crazy. A month ago, if someone had dared to tell him he’d be finding something more than his regular flings, he would have laughed in their face. In fact, he actually did a few days before he met you. 
Bucky didn’t know what kind of magical spell you’d put on him, but within a few weeks, he’d started to become a different man. A better version of his thought-to-be-marvelous self. Now he realized what he was missing: a counterpart, someone who made life seem dull without them by his side. He wasn’t going to admit it to Sam or Steve immediately, but the idea of you being that very someone became more attractive each day. 
“Just a lot to do with the gala and all...” Bucky trailed off and spun around to Steve. 
“You know, I never took you for an event manager...” The blonde grinned and his eyes lit up in the office light. “Don’t take this the wrong way, I like seeing you try something new, but this feels very... out of place.”
“But you also know I never back down from a challenge. And I’ll be damned if Nat has something to hold against me for life.”
Steve’s head tipped forward. “We both know that woman has blackmail material for two lifetimes on us. 
“She really does.” Bucky sighed and then slumped back in his chair, the little issue he had been hiding from his best friend gnawing on his mind. 
He thought about Steve and Bambi and how he had just asked her to marry him. She’d said yes, of course, nobody expected otherwise. Steve - of all people - was living a magical fairytale life with the woman of his dreams. And here Bucky was, thinking he had figured it all out with women and relationships - or rather that he never wanted one - yet he found himself wondering why that decision bugged him so much when you came into the picture. 
“Can I ask you something?” Bucky squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath, not believing he was really going to ask Steve for dating advice.
“Always.”
“How did you know that Bambi was the one?” A stupid question, really. Bucky already knew there was nobody like you. But it was best to start this conversation off lightly.
Steve smiled widely again, his cheeks tinted pink. “Well, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. And not in an I haven’t touched a woman in years kind of way... I couldn’t stop. Every second of every day, I imagined her with me. The thought of her made me happier even before she knew how I felt about her. And, well, it also hurt like hell when I thought she didn’t return my feelings... when she refused to talk to me for a day...” He cleared his throat and then eyed Bucky again. “Why do you want to know?”
“Nothing in particular. I was just wondering and I needed material for my best man speech.” But the blonde didn’t buy it. He caught Bucky’s chair when he attempted to turn away, pulling him right back in front of him. “Are you dating someone? Is it that woman from the flower shop?”
How did he know about you? “No??” Bucky squinted at Steve. 
“You know if you wanted advice, I do consider myself an expert to some extent now.” Bucky wanted to wipe the smug grin right off his friend’s face. 
“You’re an idiot.” He stood up and paced to the window.
“Oh come on, Buck.” Steve followed suit, the playful grin ever present. “You teased me for years about my love life, can’t be mad now.”
“I’m not mad.” He was annoyed. 
They stood by the glass front for a while, watching the busy city unfold beneath them in the glow of the rising sun. Bucky could feel his friend’s eyes stare at him though. And after another moment of silence, the blonde finally spoke. “You should ask her out.”
“What?” He faced him again. 
“You like her. I can tell. And you’ve never acted like this about a woman, let alone put so much effort into a relationship. I know it’s not your style, but I think it would do you good to at least try.”
“The effort is for the gala.” Bucky corrected. 
“Right. Because that’s your thing... charity galas.” Steve squeezed Bucky’s shoulder and then tapped it and then he made his way to the door. “I’m not going to tell you what to do, but I really wish you would listen to your heart and not be a stubborn dickhead for once. This could be something life-changing - something great. And it’s your choice whether you welcome it or not.”
Life changing. Bucky didn’t like the sound of that. He liked to be in control of the situation and rule over his own life. However that aspect seemed to have left the building when you entered. 
He huffed. There you were back on his mind again, and he felt the tingle creep up his throat. There was no denying it. What Steve had described with Bambi was what Bucky had with you. 
With a shake of his head, he grabbed his coat, told Nat he’d be back in an hour, and then pressed the button for the elevator. He would deny it if Steve ever dared to take pride in convincing him to do so, but he’d also be damned if he didn’t at least try to find out if you felt the same. 
❁ ❁ ❁
There was a burly-looking stranger standing at the counter when Bucky entered your shop. He had willed the traitorous voice in his head to silence all the way here. But now that he saw the handsome older man taking all your attention to the point you hadn’t even noticed him stepping in over the customer's broad shoulders, the heat began to bubble up again. 
Bucky wanted to tell himself you wouldn’t prefer the salt-and-pepper-bearded man over him. But to be honest, he didn’t even know what your type was. Yes, you had cuddled on your sofa just the other night, but since Bucky wouldn’t consider himself an expert in anything other than one-night stands, it could have been a friendly gesture for all he knew. 
“Would that be all for you?” You asked the man and handed him his chance. Bucky watched as his thumb grazed over your hand, feeling a tinge of anger starting to consume him.  
“That’s all. Thank you, sweetheart.”
“I hope to see you again soon, sir.”
“Oh, you can bet on it.” He winked then turned, nodded to Bucky in a brief greeting, and then exited the shop. Bucky’s eyes lingered on the door for a while longer. He took deep breaths as his jaw clenched and the bell above the entrance fell silent. 
“Hey.” A warm hand touched his arm, pulling him right back to your eyes. And just like that, the anger washed away a little. There were just you and him in your tiny oasis amid Brooklyn. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine.” He forced a smile, but the frown on his face probably betrayed him. “Just thought that man was a little inappropriate.” 
“He’s just a sweet man buying flowers for his wife.” Your eyes glimmered with mischief when you bit your lip. “Bucky... are you jealous?”
Oh, hell no.
“Jealous?” Bucky wasn’t jealous. He couldn’t be. There was nothing to be jealous of. He had no claim to you. Even if he really wished he did. And yet that man had angered him with only the touch of his hand. That was the only thing he’d ever get. Bucky knew what it felt like to have you in his arms, how your body lotion settled in his nose, how your head fit perfectly in the crook of his neck. “No.”
“But you should not be so naïve, dove. Married men are also flirting... and cheating.”
A short laugh escaped your throat before you caught yourself again and Bucky’s heart began doing that funny somersault thing. “Not to burst your bubble or anything, but I do know how the real world works.” You crossed your arms before your chest. “Besides, what do you care if he did ask me out? Maybe it has been a lifelong dream of mine to be a mistress.”
“It’s not. And I don’t. I just think you deserve someone better than a cheater.”
“Oh, like who? The percentage of good guys in this city is disappointingly low.”
Bucky snorted, guided by the excitement in his chest he opened his arms. “Please, I could name at least five guys off the top of my head who are better than whatever that was.” His left hand flailed in the direction of the door, referring to the previous customer. 
“Name one.”
“Me.”
The surprise sprung onto your features faster than Bucky realized what he had said. “What?” 
Well, this was certainly not the way he had planned to ask you out today. Damn jealousy. The only way for this to not be embarrassing was to own up to it now. It was what he had come here for after all, right?
Bucky looked directly into your eyes, his expression sincere and determined. "Yes, me. I may not have everything figured out, but I do know one thing: I care about you. I've seen the way you light up a room, the kindness you show to everyone around you. You deserve someone who sees that, who appreciates it.”
Your eyes softened when you shook your head, averting your gaze to the ground. “I don’t know, Bucky.”
He bit the insides of his cheeks, instantly hoping you’d say something else. Anything that would show him there was a chance you would change your mind. The silence was all-consuming, but he kept his mouth shut, careful not to fuck it up once again. 
“Bucky, I appreciate your honesty, I really do. But I don't think it's a good idea.”
Bucky's brows furrowed, his confidence wavering as your soft refusal hit him. "What do you mean, you don't know?" he asked, his tone tinged with a hint of frustration. He struggled to keep his composure, the unfamiliar feeling of rejection gnawing at him. He swallowed the lump in his throat as he searched for the right thing to say. His jaw tensed, betraying the hurt he felt deep down. "Forget it," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. With a curt nod, he turned on his heel, his disappointment palpable in the air as he made his exit, leaving you to contemplate his unexpected confession.
❁ ❁ ❁
“Why, don’t you just look precious!” You bent down and picked up Sam’s daughter, Darla, who had eagerly stormed through the door as soon as he’d opened it because she wasn’t quite tall enough to reach the handle yet. 
“You... I’ve missed you soooo much.” You nuzzled her into your chest and pretended to squeeze real tight. 
“Come play dragons with me!” The little one squirmed and then hopped off in her tiny knight costume.
“Nothing I would rather do,” you singsonged and then mouthed a ‘she’s grown so much’ to Sam before he closed the door with a shake of his head. 
“I know... she just does it without my permission. Unbelievable.”
About ten minutes later, you sat on the living room floor with a bunch of stuffed dragons, you had been instructed to play. Sam’s daughter was happily fighting the stuffies with her wooden sword and his husband handed you a cup of coffee with a smile. 
“So how have things been?” Matt sat down on the sofa and Sam instantly wrapped his arm around him. Your eyes lingered on the interaction for a second before your gaze wandered back to Darla. 
“Oh, you know, business as usual. The shop is doing very well... the shelters are holding up.” You smiled at her and then made a dragon fall backward in defeat. 
“Hm...” He frowned. “That’s weird... I had a feeling it was getting better soon.”
You smiled tight-lipped and wondered if you had butchered it all with your stubbornness. Matt wasn’t clairvoyant or anything crazy like it. But the joke of his other senses being heightened due to his impaired vision had carried on forever. And even though you never believed in supernatural magical things, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, there was a hunch of truth to it nonetheless. He had been right about many other things after all. 
“I don’t know,” you sighed and Darla excused herself to her room to ‘get more toys’. “Except for the shop, everything else seems to go a little downhill right now.”
“But you have been seeing someone, no?” Matt tilted his head and Sam squeezed his shoulder in an attempt to make him stop. 
“Babe, do we need to talk about appropriate prying again?” 
“Sorry,” Matt blushed, “Occupational hazard.”
You laughed and then turned serious again. “I have... but to be honest, I doubt it will have a future. It’s - I don’t know - it just seems a little too good to be true.”
“It’s been Bucky you’ve been seeing, hasn’t it?” Sam chimed in with a calm deep voice, making your attention snap to him. Your heart began to race at the mention of Bucky’s name. 
“How did you know?”
His fingers lifted in air quotes “A gorgeous girl with a flower shop in Brooklyn that somehow tries to convince him to donate to Sunflower shelters? You did not make it hard, honey.”
“He... he talks to you about me?” Well, that changes things, you thought as you watched Sam reassure you with a small smile. 
"More like a little birdy told me...." Sam shrugged. “What happened?” He leaned forward slightly, his eyes holding concern.
“Isn’t it obvious? I don’t want to be one of his many trophies. And I’m scared, I just made the chase attractive by not putting out immediately.” Your eyes turned glassy. “What if he will lose interest when I do.” Your voice broke, making you almost whisper the last part into the living room. “Because I really really want to...”
Matt cleared his throat. “If it helps anything... I have a feeling you are not going to be just another one-night stand.”
“And why is that?”
“I’ve never seen him like this.” Sam chimed in. “So butthurt about a girl or even put effort in a relationship that would only become a one night stand - which it is not - he wants more, he needs more. He sees a future with you. And as much as his bad-boy demeanor has made that pretty unbelievable in the past, he is changing. I just know, and it’s about time that he aims for peace and quiet and love and comfort.”
Turning your head with a suspicious grin, you answered: “Is Matt contagious? Because that sounded one hell of a lot like a prediction to me.”
Sam just shook his head with a smile, scooted forward on the sofa, and then took your hands in his. “Believe me when I say this: You are so amazing. And not even a douchebag like Bucky could deny it. Yes, he has had his fair share of women in the past, and he can be the most stubborn dickhead in all of New York City, but he’s not stupid. He knows something valuable when he sees it. And you, love, have given him the most precious thing he’s ever had.”
You held eye contact for a short moment, letting your friend’s words sink in and warm you from the inside until the butterflies in your stomach began to tingle. As much as you wanted to refuse, you had shown him love and acceptance every step of the way. And Bucky? Bucky had tried so hard to impress you. He had done so many things just for you, to spend time with you.
You just wrote it off as a means to get you to sleep with him. But at this point, that argument was farfetched. Because throughout the time you spent together, his presence was pleasant, casual, and... wanted. 
“So what do I do now?” You said with determination, making a smile spark on both Sam’s and Matt’s faces.
❁ ❁ ❁
“So, Barnes is unusually grumpy tonight.” Bucky heard Tony say when he came back from the bathroom, jamming his glas on the table to announce he was listening. “Did you get cockblocked or what?”
“Shut it, Stark, or I’ll personally demonstrate your very own cockblock.” Bucky pressed through his teeth. 
“Damn, Buck. What the hell could possibly throw you off this much?” Tony signaled for two more drinks to the bar as Bucky took a seat again. 
Sam looked at him with a raised brow - the fucker knew what was going on. But Bucky refused to get dragged into talking about his feelings. 
“I thought it was going good?” Steve chimed in, a question in his features. Steve, you punk. Shut up!
Bucky knew he was referring to the bouquets of flowers that subtly decorated the office now. First his own desk, then the kitchen. And when Nat had grown suspicious, he proceeded to place them on her desk to have her stop asking questions. 
It wasn’t his doing - not this time. You had just given him a bouquet of the flowers you couldn’t sell anymore every time you met. And Bucky couldn’t bring himself to throw them out. They also reminded him of you and were a nice little distraction from work. ...Not that it mattered anymore.
“Going good? What is going on? What are you talking about, Rogers?”
“Bucky met a- ouch goddamnit!” A kick was heard from beneath the table. And when Steve’s eyes snapped over to Sam, the man just tipped his head with a warning stare. “What the hell, man?”
“Okay, that’s it. I feel like you guys don’t tell me anything. I need details. Now.”
“No.”
Bucky didn’t need Tony to know. In fact, Bucky didn’t need anyone to know he had trouble talking to a woman. He, of all people, who never had any difficulties getting even the married ones - yeah he wasn’t too proud of that... But Tony would just make everything worse. And with his patience hanging by a thread right about now, he was not willing to play with fire. 
“Buck, we- they’re your friends. They deserve to know, especially if things are as serious as you told me.” Bucky just stared at Steve in silence, his gaze trained on the crystal class in front of him with the amber liquid untouched. Steve always had a need to calm the storm. And maybe, Bucky would let him do it this time. 
Truthfully, Bucky couldn’t imagine a life without you anymore. His friends would sooner or later hear about you - if he had not fucked it up entirely. So, it was better to rip the band-aid off now than peel it back painfully slow in the future. 
He crossed his arms and exchanged a brief glance with the blonde, and Steve understood that he was allowed to proceed. 
“Bucky met someone. He’s organizing the charity gala this year and she’s the florist doing the flower arrangements.” He had never noticed it before, but ever since Bambi had entered Steve’s life, his best friend’s fable for romance became more and more apparent to Bucky. 
“She’s also helped him find a cause to donate to. She’s been taking him to the Shelter she has worked at for years,” Sam chimed in and Bucky didn’t even question where he got his information from anymore. Steve and he had always been close, and though Bucky didn’t believe Steve would tell Sam his most private conversations, Sam always had a way of finding out. 
“Event planning? Florist? Who are you and what have you done to Bucky?” Tony looked seriously stunned, But Bucky didn’t expect anything less than incomprehension. He had always been the only one in the group Tony could relate to and talk to when it came to women and lifestyles. Now, that very thing was slipping away. 
Bucky just shrugged, uncertain how to answer. It was true: He had changed quite a bit ever since meeting you. But they weren't bad changes. He actually liked them. 
Steve cleared his throat. “I thought things were going great, just the other day he talked about asking her out. And there were all these flowers in the office, I just assumed...”
“Yeah well, they weren’t.” Bucky interrupted as he felt the frustration creep back up. There were so many new feelings mixing within him that he didn’t know what to do with them. 
“Well it’s good to have you back, I guess. Can’t imagine how that would’ve turned out.” Tony’s hand landed on Bucky’s shoulder, who immediately brushed it off. 
“What do you mean ‘turned out’?”
His head swayed from left to right and his hands turned outward. “Well, we all agree it would have never worked out right? You’re not the one for relationships and she was clearly using you for that charity money.”
What the actual fuck?
“You don’t know her. So don’t you dare assume anything about her.” Bucky sprung up, his hands hitting the table with a thump. “Dove has the kindest, most beautiful soul on this earth.” He wouldn’t let Tony, of all people, insult you. Not you. Not his dove. And, yes, maybe it also hurt a little that his friend did not believe Bucky could change for something truly important. And maybe it scratched his ego that this might have been the reason for your rejection the other day. But all of that seemed unimportant now. 
“Look at you growing all protective.”
“Tony.” Steve’s condescending tone rumbled over the booth. 
A look at Tony and Bucky wanted to smack the smirk off his face. Another look at Sam, whose eyes had grown soft with empathy. And one last look at Steve, who’d only wanted him to be as happy as him. Damn it. 
“You wouldn’t fucking know what I’m talking about, Stark.”
And then he stormed out of the Ironbar and into the night, head fuming, heart racing, and only one thing on his mind. 
❁ ❁ ❁
You were pretty sure Bucky would have kicked your door down had you not opened it the second time he wrapped his fist against it. Now he was standing in front of you, cheeks reddened from the cool night air, chest rising with deep breaths, but still devilishly handsome. 
“Hey, Bucky!” You smiled until you noticed the irritated look in his eyes. “What are you doing here?”
He seemingly ignored you, stepping into your home and then turning once you closed the door. “Do you think I can change?”
“What?”
“Do you believe I could change? That I could become the person you would date?” His eyes were pleasing, his head cocked to the side - fidgedy.
“Is... is this about the other day?”
Bucky looked nervous, vulnerable even. “Just answer my question, please.”
“I believe everyone has the ability to change. But I also know not everyone wants to.” You looked at your hands, suddenly feeling a bit awkward.
“Then why... why do you think I haven’t. Through all the times we’ve gone to the shelter, through all the conversations. I’ve never had that with someone before... what I have with you.”
There it was. You knew you had to talk to him about it sooner or later. Sam and Matt had suggested as much. You just didn't know it would be this soon.
“Bucky, I just don’t want to end up as one of the women passing you on the street, throwing side eyes at the newest one you’re having on your arm.” Yeah... that encounter had been a rather awkard one. Not to mention how nervous you were that night, hopig Bucky had only played it cool in order to protect you.
“See, but that wouldn’t happen to you, dove. It wouldn’t. Because I realized that you are the reason that makes me want to change.” Bucky's gaze softened as he spoke, his tone gentle yet resolute he stepped closer. “I'm not perfect, but I promise you this: I'll always try my best for you. So, yeah, maybe it's a long shot, but I think I could be good for you. And if you'd give me the chance, I'd love to show you.” He took your hands in his, then closed his eyes and came even closer. “I know I'd treat you right.”
Throughout his confession, your gaze never faltered from his face. You could feel the desperate honesty in his tone, in the way his hands lightly trembled. He was scared, and he lay that emotion in your hands - for you to do whatever you needed with it. 
Your voice was shaky when you answered, a light hue of shame fogging the question on the tip of your tongue. “But how do I know...?” That this is not what you’re telling every woman in this godforsaken city? 
But Bucky understood. Because apparently that pull you'd had toward him had been there for a reason. “Because the things you make me feel scare me.” His face was mere inches from yours now, you could see every speck of color in his irises. “They scare me because I’ve never felt them before. Every time I’m not with you, I think of you. In every situation I am in alone, I imagine how much more exciting it would be with you in it. I’m going crazy. I’m lost without you, dove.”
A single tear ran down your face at his confession. This moment felt so raw, his words so sincere. But most importantly, it made your heart pound with excitement. 
“Will you be mine?” His forehead leaned against yours, his hands moving up your arms and to your neck. “Please say yes,” he whispered and his breath tickled your nose. 
He just felt so right. Bucky felt right in your home, in your arms, in your life. “Yes.” You finally answered and as soon as the syllable left your mouth, his lips came crashing onto yours. 
Within seconds, Bucky had you pressed against the door. His hands held your face lovingly, his hands warm and big on your skin. The kiss was deep and so unbelievably pure, it punched the breath from your lunges the second your lips connected. And suddenly you knew that Bucky’s words held far less emptiness than you had feared. Nobody could kiss like this and not be sincere. At least you hoped it to be true because once you’d gotten a taste, you knew you would never want to try anything else. You could get drunk off him. Forever.
Your hands wandered beneath Bucky’s coat, settling in the warmth of his back beneath the thick wool and feeling the muscles ripple when he pulled you even closer. 
You sighed into him because the moment felt so right, so perfect, so tailored to the two of you and Bucky brushed his tongue over your bottom lip. The tingle from the gesture traveled down your spine. Before you could hold yourself back, you let his touch swallow you whole. 
❁ ❁ ❁
Bucky moaned, a feeling so warm and enjoyable taking over his body with every breath you stole from him. He had wanted for this to happen for weeks. And the real thing did not disappoint. 
Your hands roamed his back until they hooked onto his shoulders and began shrugging off his coat. He tried hard to keep your lips on his during the action, not wanting to miss a single moment without them anymore. You were here, you were his, and it was perfect. 
“Bucky,” you whimpered when his thigh made its way between your legs. A move so instinctually feeling for him. But all the other women he’d been with before only seemed like practice now. Preparation to be the best lover you’ve ever had and ever will have. Because you were the real thing, the grand prize, the best person to ever happen to him. 
You ground down on his legs in rhythmic motions, Bucky could feel the heat seeping through his expensive dress pants and it made him feel even hotter. He pushed his leg higher, reveling in the sounds that came from your lips and the very knowledge he was the one providing this pleasure. There was nothing more exhilarating. 
But still, it wasn’t enough. “There are too many layers of clothes between us, dove,” his wet breath brushed against your cheek as he pulled his thigh back for you to take off your jeans. 
“You’re so right.” You grinned and then pulled them down in one swift motion only to reveal a pink pear of panties underneath. 
In an instant, his body was pressed to yours again, his lips attaching to yours like magnets - he couldn’t get enough of the taste of you. But instead of placing his leg right back to get you that delicious friction, his hand began traveling down your front until it disappeared in your underwear. 
If you were any other woman, Bucky would’ve gone down on you. He would have dropped to his knees and eaten you out because he knew it was the fastest way he’d make you come. And he took pride in the fact that the women he was with always had at least one orgasm more than him. But he didn’t do so with you. 
Why?
Because Bucky Barnes got high off of your lips, and he couldn’t possibly imagine not seeing your face, feeling your mouth shape in a silent scream when he would make you come for the first time. 
So his hand had to do for now. His fingers slipped past the thin pink cotton and over your mound to gather your slickness. He gasped when he reached your heated core. “You’re so wet for me, love. So ready.” He pecked the corner of your lips. “So perfect.”
“Yes!” You whined and pressed your pussy into his touch. Bucky immediately started to trace circles on your clit. He took his time to find the motions with which your breath staggered, or your fists clenched in his shirt. With every whimper, every stroke of his hand, he felt his dick strain his pants a little more - the aching exciting him for when he could finally sink into you. 
“Shit, don’t stop. I’m so close.”
“I don’t plan on ever stopping.” He growled into your mouth, his hand movements becoming more frantic, the wet noises filling your apartment. Frankly, Bucky didn’t believe he could ever stop giving you pleasure and having you writhe in his arms with deep sighs. Not until he knew how you sounded cumming on his hand, on his face, on his dick, on the sofa, on the bed, and every other surface he could possibly imagine. Your body was like ecstasy.
Your walls began to clench around his fingers, every drag becoming harder as he imagined his cock being squeezed by you instead. “There you go, Baby. That’s it.”
“OH MY GOD!” You screamed as your hand pulled on his hair, your body growing rigid with pleasure and Bucky kissed every curse word from your lips. 
After a minute, he slowly pulled his hand back, the other caressing the skin on your cheek. “Are you okay?” He whispered, his eyes boring into yours in genuine concern. 
“Are you kidding? I’m more than okay. That was incredible.” Bucky couldn’t help the small chuckle from leaving his lips at your praise. 
“You look really fucking pretty when you come.”
“I’m glad. Because I want you to make me do it again.” You kissed his cheek. “And again.” And then you gently stroked his cock through his pants. “And again.”
And the second you said that Bucky pulled you onto the floor with him. He took his time removing your clothes, kissed the trial of your bra strap all the way down your shoulder, licked and bit at your hips all the way down to your ankles where he finally pulled off your underwear and pressed his lips to the soft skin of your leg. And when you were fully naked, he paused. Bucky’s eyes roamed your body, taking in every divot, every mark and curve of yours.
He sat back on his haunches, his head getting dizzy when the butterflies took over. “God, you’re so beautiful,” Bucky softly wheezed, his hand slowly stroking your leg as you lay spread out in front of him. 
“Come here.” You gestured with your arms open, welcoming him in your embrace with a wide smile. Bucky supported his weight with his arms on either side of your head and let your hands bury in his hair. He closed his eyes letting the warmth of your touch overtake him. Your thumbs stroked over his brows before you whispered: “Look at me.”
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry I doubted you. I feel the appreciation in the way you talk to me and touch me. It was unfair of me to assume you are your reputation.”
“No, it’s okay. It’s not like I made it easy for you to believe me.”
You chuckled and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Well, I do now.” Your eyes locked with his and a new fire lit within them. 
“Good.” He smirked and then rolled you over so that you were straddling his waist. The cool wooden floor hit his bare back as you had bunched his shirt up on the way, now pulling it over his head and revealing your satisfied stare when your hands traced over his abs.
You shook your head and released a breath. “Shame on me for refusing this for so long.” Your fingers passed his happy trail and began working on his belt. Bucky’s thumbs stroked your thighs as he watched you undress him, the tent in his pants ever so present and growing with every brush of your fingers. 
“Don’t worry, dove. We have all the time in the world to make up for it.” When his pants were off he pulled you forward again, kissing you ferociously. “‘Cause I’m not planning on leaving.”
You smirked and ground down on his cock, interrupting his speech and ripping a guttural sound from his chest. 
He had been holding back. Ever since you'd dragged him into that shelter, he had not touched a woman, because you had him hooked the second you had taken his hand on the way. And now he had to bite his tongue to keep himself from coming in his boxers like a school boy. 
“Are you getting nervous, Bucky?” You grinned and moved again to tease him a little more.
“Can you blame me?” He clenched his jaw when you rocked forward again, his hand stilling your hips with a near-bruising grip. “I’ve wanted you ever since I stepped foot in your shop.”
“You did?” Your head cocked to the side, surprise washing over your face and his dick twitched making Bucky’s cheeks heat up. 
“Yes...” He confessed only to be attacked with your kisses again. He groaned and bucked his hips up until you were a moaning mess on top of him. His hands reached around you, settling on your ass and giving it a small clap. 
“Hand me my walled, baby. It’s in my pants.”
“Why?”
“We need a condom if you don’t want to keep dry-humping me.” He smirked, knowing, feeling there was nothing dry about this anymore. Your arousal was already drenching his boxers. The slick pushing him close to losing it. 
“It’s okay. We don’t have to, I have an IUD.” 
“As much as I want to, we should be safe...” Bucky swallowed and averted his eyes in regret. “Have to get tested again.”
“Oh, ok.” You were disappointed, he could tell. And Bucky was too. It was the first time he ever regretted all his one-night stands because he would kill to fuck you raw and feel all of you. And as hazy as your body made him, he could not ignore the fact that he did have several different sex partners before. It would have to wait a few weeks. And when he would come back clean, he would keep you in the bedroom for a week straight.
You must have noticed his misery because you leaned forward and kissed his cheek. Then you scooched back and retrieved the condom from his wallet. Bucky held his breath when your fingers hooked into his waistband. And when you pulled them down, his cock stood proud and thick with precum already pearling from his tip. 
He reached for the shiny packet in your hand but you pulled your arm up, your eyes stuck on his cock. “Let me.”
“Okay,” he breathed out as he watched you rip the packet. His shaft twitched when your careful hands rolled the condom over him, another bead of precum dripping into the condom and before he could collect himself, you rubbed your pussy all over him, coating him in your arousal. 
Bucky’s hands turned into fists at your sides as he watched you finally sink down on him - inch by inch, your heat welcomed him, his body sparking with pleasure all over. You moaned in unison when he was fully seated inside you, his cock being hugged tightly in your warmth - he’d barely held it together then. 
You planted your hands on his abdomen and rocked forward, sending the both of you reeling. It took a second for Bucky to collect himself. His eyes closed and his nose huffing, he reminded himself of what he had promised you and what he wanted his first time with you to be. When he opened his eyes again, his hands moved over your body with determination. One setting over your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers, the other began tracing tight circles on your clit. 
Your head fell back, a vision of ecstasy and pleasure unfolding before him when he sent you over the edge a second time. He slowed your hips on his and rubbed your pussy with his thumb. He needed you to come again. And then again, and he had to hold out for that long. But the way your chest heaved, the light sheen of sweat forming on your skin, made his plan more than difficult. 
It took all of Bucky’s willpower to pull you off his cock and push you to his legs. He sat up and kissed up your neck until he reached your lips. “What are you doing?”
“Giving you what you asked for.” He mumbled against your skin and then licked over your nipple, the other being caressed by his fingers. His free hand found its place right between your legs again and when you moaned lowly, he slipped two fingers inside you. 
Your pussy was squelching, the lewd sound traveling across the living room as Bucky worked you towards another release. You were already squirming in his hands again. Your fists pulled at his roots, sending a shiver straight to his cock when you leaned his head back. “You’re amazing.” Your breath was hot, fanning over his lips only to be replaced by them again. His tongue slipped inside and mimicking the movement of his fingers in your pussy. 
“Right back at ya, dove. I can't wait to be inside you again.”
“Then what are you waiting for?”
“For you to come again.” He bit your lip and sped up his fingers already feeling you squeeze him tightly. “So you’re satiated when I come deep inside you, feeling you squeeze me with that perfect pussy of yours until you see stars.”
“Shitshitshit. I’m coming!” A series of curses flew past him when you pulsed around his fingers, gushing all over his hand and lap until he finished rocking you through your third orgasm. 
“Fuck,” Bucky licked your juices off his fingers and his eyes rolled back into his head. 
“I don’t think I have another in me, Bucky.”
“Don’t worry, love. I got you.” And with that he hooked your legs around his waist, falling forward until you were with your back to the floor, Bucky hovering over you and aligning his length with your entrance. 
He couldn’t wait anymore, in one swift motion, Bucky fully bottomed out until his balls hit your ass. And when he was confident you were comfortable, he set a relentless pace. He had been on the edge this entire time. You had almost made him come just having him watch you let go. But there was nothing like the feeling of your pussy hugging him tightly, your body writhing beneath his, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure and nails raking down his back. 
“You feel so good,” he grunted and you just moaned in response.
“Look at me, please.” His hand turned your face. “I need to see you.” 
Bucky snapped his hips into yours even faster, your walls already clenching tightly around him and he threatened to burst. Your eyes opened and fell to his and Bucky couldn’t stop his orgasm from ripping through him anymore. His strokes stuttered, his balls tightened, but he held eye contact with you, searching your hand behind his back to lock your fingers with his. 
The white pleasure exploded within him, elevated by your own peak hitting with full force. He kissed you then, feeling like he was somewhere between heaven and your living room floor. His mind was consumed by you, his body tingling in aftershocks as he rocked you through your highs. 
His damp chest fell into yours when you came down. He rolled on his back, taking you with him, pressed deeply into his body, his cock still buried inside you. Bucky’s chest was heaving, the last remnants of pleasure sparkling in his nerves. He kissed your hand and cuddled you closer. 
This was what he was made for. To be with you, to be consumed by your affection and warmth. 
He smoothed over your head and felt your lashes flutter on his skin. His heart was blooming with contentment - all the fear he’d felt to commit was miles away, lost somewhere between the Ironbar and your doorstep. There was nothing he was more sure of. 
“Let me do this right. Let me take you out.” He whispered into your hair with a smile, trying to remember a time he’d ever been this happy. 
You snorted as your hand gently stroked over his chest. “Bucky, you’re literally ballsdeep inside of me right now.”
Bucky chuckled as well, his hand rubbed down your bare back in a soothing motion when he kissed your head. “Nothing like a convincing argument, huh.”
You already know your girl couldn't decide which GIF to use. So here are the extra ones:
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Woooow, you've made it this far! Thank you so much 💕 If you have some time to spare, I would reaaaally appreciate some feedback from you. A comment or a reblog can help so much to reach more people and improve writing. Talk to you soon ~Meg 💞
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angrythingstarlight · 6 months
Note
I doubt this is something all the bikers would do for some kids
But image they did this for Halloween 🥹
https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZPR7HFSNp/
You know exactly how to convince your grumpy biker to do what you want. Are you ready to pay his price though?
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Pairing: Biker!Ari x Reader
CW: Touch starved Ari, size kink, innocence kink, grumpy/sunshine, protective Ari, choking kink.
AN: Written on my phone, Unbetad.
☆Biker Masterlist☆Ari Masterlist☆
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You glance up at Ari, observing his sullen expression as he watches your screen. The short video loops back to the beginning and his bored gaze coasts over your phone and locks on your hopeful eyes. "No."
You're not shocked, although your mouth falls into a pout anyway. You knew this was going to be an uphill battle getting him to agree to work your booth at the autumn festival so you have an arsenal prepared. Since the ridiculously adorable video wasn't enough to sway him, you'll try a different tactic.
"Ari, it's for the animal shelter. We'd raise so much money if you'd help me out."
The legs of his chair scrape across his office floor as he moves back to his desk. He opens his laptop with a pointed sigh. "I think it's enough that I donate to that place every month."
"And all you ha—"Spluttering to a stop, your brows furrow in surprise. "You do? Since when?"
Since the day he found out you volunteered there. He's never going to tell you that though, you already know too much about him.
Without looking away from his spreadsheet, he gently closes your mouth with his knuckle. "Yes I do. So find someone else to help."
"But I don't want anyone else," you softly admit. "I want you."
His eyes close and the back of his head hits the top of his chair with a dull thud. You trail your nails down the exposed column of his throat, gently pressing over his Adam's apple, your fingers rising when he roughly swallows. "Please. I'll owe you. You don't have to wear a costume but if you show up you can make the other guys wear them."
And keep them in line. You might be able to get the other guys to show up in exchange for free food and beers but keeping a rowdy group of bikers under control for a few hours is an entirely different story. Something Ari can do without even trying.
He pinches the bridge of his nose. "Go back to work, Sunshine," he orders, no real heat in his voice.
You almost have him.
Swinging your leg over his muscular thigh, you straddle his lap. Every part of him goes still. You wiggle, adjusting your weight on him. Almost every part of him. You feel him thicken under you and you wiggle again, more of a slow grind this time, eliciting a low groan from his parted lips. "You do this for me and I'll do anything you want."
His eyes snap open and his hand is around your throat before you can process what's happening. His hold is loose but his palm feels good on your skin. You grin. He glares. "I'm getting set up around 10 but you don't have to be there until 11."
Another sigh. "Who's helping you set up?"
That's not what you were expecting to him say. "Oh um. No one," you start, blinking when he appears genuinely irritated for the first time since you strolled into his office. "It's fine, I'm used to doing this stuff by myself and it's more than enough if you guys show up and—"
"Be quiet," he demands, reaching past you with his free hand. Taking his phone off the desk, you both watch him dial Steve. This feels right—you still on his lap, his ring-adorned hand still around your throat.
"Yeah?"
Ari inhales deeply, his eyes briefly lifting to the ceiling. "We're volunteering at the festival this weekend. Tell the guys to show up and do whatever Sunshine here says. If anyone tries to skip out, let them know they'll have to deal with me personally," he says with a clenched jaw, forcing the words out.
There's a beat of silence and you whisper thank you. Steve clears his throat, tamping down a laugh, he has the vague feeling it would push his caustic brother over the edge. "Alright, I'll let 'em know. What time do we need to get there."
"10." Ari's eyes drift down your face, lingering on your smile. "Actually tell the prospects to get there early and set up her booth. Get her whatever she needs."
Oh.
You're not used to people being there for you like this. If you hadn't already offered to do anything for him, you'd definitely be doing it now.
"Anything else?"
"Nah we're good." Ari hangs up, his phone hits his desk with a loud clatter.
"Thank you again. You have no idea how much this means to me."
Ari makes a sardonic sound in his throat. You have no idea what you're about to unleash.
"Anything huh," he murmurs, tilting your head back, and squeezing your throat gently. Noting the way you instinctively grind down on him, he applies more pressure. "You really need to work on your negotiation skills Sunshine. You didn't even ask what I'd want from you in exchange for helping out."
His touch is sure, commanding. You might be on top of him but he's the one in control.
"What do you want?" You grasp his wrist, nearly forgetting you're at work.
Ari slides his tongue across his bottom lip, he's been dreaming about all about all the ways he's going to ruin you. Something dark and passionate flares in his blue eyes and it renders you breathless. "Too late for that Sunshine. You'll have to wait and see. I'll decide when you ready for me."
His hands drop to your ass, easily lifting you as he stands. Ari places you on his desk, his hands land on your thighs, slowly easing them apart as he steps between them until his massive erection is pushing against you.
It's going to be a tight fit. He'll make it work. Ari laughs softly when you realize just how large he is. If you're not flexible already, Sunshine you will be once he's done with you.
"You should start stretching."
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Text
Sweeter Than Fiction
James Potter x muggle fem!reader
Summary: After months of dating, James finally tells you he's a wizard.
Genre: Fluff <3
pt.2 to Enchanted
Warnings: tbh none
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6 months later, James is sprawled out on your couch in your small London apartment. He's dressed in your university sweater, which hugs him snugly but he doesn't seem like he minds. You'd switched into his so he doesn't have much of a choice anyway.
He's pretending to really read the book he had found on your dresser but he keeps his eyes trained on how absorbed you seem in the show you're watching.
James sees the title; "Sabrina The Teenage Witch". He smiles to himself when he sees you try and wiggle your nose like she does and you fall back onto James lap, sighing. 
"D'you think I'd make a good witch?" you ask suddenly and his heart almost collapses. 
He runs a hand in your hair, playing with the strands as he ponders your question, "Mmm, yeah, you would, lovie," he says and chuckles when you sit up and start to ramble. 
"I mean, can you just imagine having magic! I could–I could make all this mess disappear instantly!" you exclaim happily, gesturing to your slightly messy apartment, and then look into his eyes, "wouldn't having magic be fun, Jamie?" 
James frowns. You say it so innocently but he starts to wonder if you could know? It has been months.
He sits up, tilting his head at you. He's been wanting to tell you he's a wizard for a while now, plus James wouldn't admit this out loud yet but he knows he wants to marry you and you deserve to know the truth before he asks you to spend your life with him, don't you? 
"Y/n," he whispers but you interrupt him. 
"And I mean, flying on a broom! How silly! Can't you just imagine it?" 
James smiles, completely endeared, "Yeah, I can," he tucks some hair behind your ear and reaches into the back pocket of his jeans. He pulls out his wallet and you stare at him confused as he holds out a folded old polaroid. He hands it to you.
"What's this?" you ask curiously, crossing your legs.
At first, it looks like a simple picture of a group of boys. There are four of them and they look around sixteen if you had to guess. The tallest has his arms crossed and he's standing in the middle as the boy to his right, a shorter boy with long dark hair, has his arm swung around him. A short, stout boy looks timidly at the camera next to the taller one and next to him, what looks like a young James is happily grinning and holding up a fancy looking broom in triumph. James and the longer-haired boy are dressed in a maroon and yellow sports uniform while the other boys are dressed in simple school uniforms. 
The picture seems relatively normal for a second until it starts to move. James in the picture lifts the  broom and the long-haired boy continues to hug the taller one. You gasp, dropping the picture onto the couch and it flutters to the back where you see written, "Prongs, Wormtail, Moony, and Padfoot, Hogwarts 1976."
"What the hell?" you whisper, voice breaking, and you think you must be imagining things. You look up at James, who is staring at you intently. "James? W-why did that polaroid just move?" you ask and James's stare softens. 
He picks up the polaroid and smiles, he shows it to you again. "That's me and my best friends at school," he says but when he looks at you, his smile falters. You look terrified, "Love, it's okay it's just a picture."
"No, it isn't. It's moving!" you say, leaning away from him a little.
James's chest tightens. "I know," he says seriously, "Promise not to panic, okay? But, I'm a wizard." 
He says it so calmly you're silent for a moment until you start to laugh. You laugh so hard tears brim in your eyes and James is concerned.
He holds your cheeks in his hands. "No, Y/n, I mean it. I'm a wizard," he stands and walks to his jean-jacket hanging in the entrance. He pulls out his wand and points it at you.
You look scared again when he mutters an unfamiliar word and suddenly, you feel a drizzle of snow fall over your shoulders and unless your ceiling disappeared and it's snowing in July, you know it has to be James. 
You let out a shriek and cover your mouth as your eyes widen. James lowers his wand and rushes over, the snow disappearing. "It's okay. I promise I won't hurt you, lovie," he pauses and carefully sits next to you. He's relieved when don't scoot away from him, "I couldn't keep this from you anymore. I love you. You deserve to know who I am."
You're looking at him intensely and you pick up the polaroid again, examining it closer. After a moment you look up and narrow your eyes. You press your index on where James is in the picture. "Why are you holding a broom?" you ask simply and James almost laughs. 
"Gryffindor had just won an important Quidditch match, I think."
"Gryff-what won what?"
"Um, my house- um. Quidditch it's a sport. Where you—um, ride a broom."
You look at him and James can't read your expression.
"You can fly on a broom?" you suddenly ask, sounding less nervous now. You look at the picture and then you crack a smile. "You do look cute all dressed up," you put the polaroid near his ear, almost as if you're making sure the boy in the picture is actually James.
Your boyfriend nods and looks at you wearily, biting his lip. He has so much he wants to say. "So, have you always been a witch—" you ask.
"Wizard," he interrupts but you ignore him.
"—or did some creepy troll turn you into one? Oh my, are you the only witch to exist?" you sound almost excited now.
"Wizard," James says and then takes the picture from your hand and holds yours in his. "And no. I'm not. All my friends and family are. You believe me, yeah?"
You think for a moment. "Yeah," you shrug, looking up at the ceiling and then the wand in James's other hand, "you did make it snow, didn't you?" your smile widens and you point at his wand as you say, "Can you make it snow again! Or show me another spell. Please?"
James hesitates but when he sees a small scab on your hand from where you'd cut yourself earlier, he mutters a spell he knows by heart from all the Quidditch tumbles he's had and the wound suddenly disappears. 
Your eyes widen and you hold up your palm awkwardly. You look where the scab had been, mesmerized as you run your fingers over the now, non-existent, wound. 
"I know this is a lot for you to understand now, lovie. But, I want to explain everything. Anything you want to know," he says seriously and you look back up at him. 
You ask question after question, the reality of the situation becoming even more intense as you hear stories from his school and how unfamiliar he had been about "muggles" until he'd met his ex-girlfriend and then, well, you. 
"So, wait, witches and wizards exist and we– muggles? –just don't know?" you say after his little speech and James nods. He's sitting criss-cross in front of you on your couch and he's running his thumb over your hand, hoping his gesture is reassuring. You look confused, "Aren't you gonna get in trouble with the—"
"Ministry of Magic for telling you?" James finishes, understanding what you're trying to ask him.
You nod. 
James shakes his head and looks into your eyes. "No, because I didn't just tell anyone. You aren't some random person on the street, lovie. You're my girlfriend and I love you. I'm glad you know," he kisses your forehead quickly and you lean up to catch his lips. 
"I'm glad I know too," you smile and caress his cheek. It's your way of showing him you don't see him any differently. You turn to the polaroid picture still in your lap and pick it up. "I can't wait to meet more of your wizard friends now," you smile. 
James smirks, a twinkle in his eyes. "You already have, darling," he says. 
You look closer at the picture and your eyes widen, "No way!" you exclaim looking up at James in disbelief as you start to recognize two of the other boys in the picture. "Remy and Siri too?!"
James chuckles and nods. You turn the polaroid over again and look at the names scribbled in ink. "Then what's up with the weird nicknames? Prongs? Is that you?" you deduce from the order. 
James hums and kisses your temple as he pulls you in closer.
"Why Prongs?" you ask, pointing both your index fingers and putting them on your head, "like little devil horns? Or a fork?" you giggle at the last suggestion and James is entirely enchanted by you. 
He looks at you fondly and chuckles, "Like stag antlers, lovie."
"Why?"
"Because I can turn into a stag, if I wanted to," James explains slowly, realizing he'd forgotten to mention that tiny detail.
"You WhAT?!"
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nicoline1998enilocin · 3 months
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His innocent assistant
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Pairing | Tony Stark x Lab Assistant!Fem!Reader
Word count | ~ 600 words
Summary | Tony's feeling a little needy, and he can't resist asking his sweet, innocent lab assistant for help. You don't like seeing your boss in any discomfort, so you're more than happy to help out.
Rating | Explicit (E)
Warning(s) | Use of nickname: Sweet Girl, innocent Reader
Smut | Reference to a blowjob, cockwarming, Daddy kink, slight size kink
A/n | I found this deep down in my drafts, and I want to thank @ccbsrmsf1 for sparking this idea at the time. This is my little present from me to you this Christmas! 🩵
A/n 2.0 | This isn’t proofread, any and all mistakes are my own.
Events Masterlist | Free Space | @marvel-smash-bingo
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Banners: @vase-of-lilies | Divider: @firefly-graphics | GIF: @ccbsrmsf1
Main Masterlist | Tony Stark Masterlist | Read on AO3
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"C'mere, Sweet Girl, Daddy's having a problem, and he needs your help to fix it," Tony says in a sweet voice, knowing exactly what to say to get you to listen to him and do exactly as he says.
"Is everything okay, Daddy?" You ask, still a little unsure of calling him Daddy, but he assures you that it's normal for lab assistants to call their bosses Daddy.
"M perfect, Sweet Girl," he tells you as he's eyeing you in your dress that hugs every curve to perfection. It's one of your favorites, and you put it on because Tony told you he liked it the last time you were at one of Tony's parties.
"It's okay; you can get closer. I won't bite." Stretching out his hand, you put yours in his, and he guides you over to him, and that's when you see he's incredibly hard. Seeing you doing as he asks has him hard beyond belief, and he can't believe he has such an obedient, innocent, sweet thing as his lab assistant.
"D-Daddy, are you in pain again? I can help it go away again! Last time, it worked, too!" You tell him excitedly, referring to when you helped "cure" his pain by sucking him off.
"I am Sweet Girl, but I don't think that medicine will work today. I think the one that might help me feel better is in your Princess parts," he says, meaning your - now soaked - pussy.
"But Daddy, it's so big I don't think it will fit!" You tell him with a frown and slight pout, making Tony only hornier. He's never been more glad with someone as innocent as you.
"Don't worry, Sweet Girl; Daddy will make sure it's going to fit, and when it does, you can sit on my lap and keep me warm; how does that sound?"
After thinking about it for a few seconds, you happily nod, wanting to do anything you can to help your boss get rid of his pain. He takes a seat on one of the rolling chairs in his lab before unbuckling his belt and opening his pants, finally able to free his thick, long, veiny cock.
Your eyes are immediately drawn to it, and you start to salivate at the sight, biting your lip while subconsciously squeezing your thighs together for a little relief.
"I'm ready for you, Sweet Girl," he tells you before pulling you closer, and one of his hands glides under your dress to your soaked pussy.
"Did you not wear panties today, Sweet Girl? Hmm, and I can already feel the medicine, but it needs to be in before it can work," Tony says as he guides you to straddle his lap.
You've never been with someone as big as Tony before, and it is quite a stretch since he's long and thick, but your pussy it's tight and small, making it a bit of a stretch. With a deep groan, he slides you onto his cock, and loud moans escape your lips, unable to hold them in. It's not that Tony would want you to do that, anyway.
"Oh, Daddy! Feels so good," you tell him as you experimentally roll your hips a few times, but his large hands quickly stop you on your hips.
"You just need to keep me warm, Sweet Girl; that's the best way for the medicine to work,'' he tells you. Once you're finally comfortable, you lean into Tony and place your head on his shoulder, earning yourself the praise you've been dying to hear from him daily.
"Good fuckin' girl,'' he tells you with a deep groan before getting comfortable and letting you melt into his hold as he returns to what he was doing.
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nyimasu · 1 year
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IT WON'T FIT! — TOJI FUSHIGURO X FEM!READER
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— CW : toji is a well-hung menace still broke af (what's new), rough!toji, wall sex, implied size kink, this man fucks you raw 24/7, is 'girl' a pet name?, cervix fucking, multiple orgasms, breeding kink, creampie, slight teasing, double penetration at the end (monsterfucking), squirting
— WORD COUNT : 1.5k┊AO3 LINK
NOTE : well, this takes place in the jjk verse and nothing I say can justify my horniness lmao I wrote this at 2am because toji always comes back to remind me why I'm so down bad for him (ssh don't tell geto)
enjoy!
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Toji is a man on a mission tonight. That being to fuck you into oblivion.
"Come on, be a good girl and stay still," his fist lands a hair’s breadth away from your face pressed against the wall, hips snapping against yours in a dance of curses laced with moans erupting from you both. He hides his nose in your hair as his next words hit you. 
"I want your pussy to milk me dry again.
I said don't move."
You squirm anyway, feeling his tongue lick a fat stripe of your tensed neck to then bite it as his calloused, experienced fingers roam your body to get rid of what's left of your clothes. You hear the fabric tear apart under Toji's touch, pooling at your feet, shreds of the shirt flying around when the groan the man lets out when you try to look at him from above your shoulder. It's primal, the one lions use to chase away other predators when eating.
He's possessive over his precious, little toy.
"T-Toji."
A sharp hiss on his part, followed by a merciless thrust that shuts you up with a wail. He is practically rutting into you.
Your eyes roll in the back of your head as his whisper grazes the shell of your ear, "Want new clothes? I'll get you new ones after my cum fills every hole of you, girl."
His cock has been kissing your cervix for a good minute, bruising and hitting it with his monstrous cock. The first time you saw it you were certain it wasn’t going to fit. You still wonder the same, but it always fills you to the brim with little to no effort. 
Toji always makes sure of that.
The drag of his dick is so delicious, grazing your walls — no, clogging them with its size like occluded pipes ready to burst yet the slick wetness you're so drenched in helps him move in and out of you in smooth, calculated moves you find maddening.
Every time its head collides with that sweet, intimate spot all you can see are flickering stars, but today there are so many more than usual, getting closer to you by the minute. They just get brighter, hotter and you feel them coat your eyelashes and cheeks in flocks until all you can see are them. Liquid stars falling from your eyes and he's your favourite star seeker.
His grip on you tightens as the fist still close to your face opens up, palm digging into your open mouth to suppress yet another desperate moan from you. 
What other women said about him is true. Before your paths crossed, you had listened to them without thinking much of it. But now, as he is using you as his personal cum dumpster against the wall of some run-down bar in Tokyo, you know they were right.
How Toji Fushiguro's stamina is as endless as the arsenal of cursed tools in his possession.
How he doesn't stop until his semen overwrite your own blood, marking you permanently as his.
How lewd is the sound of skin slapping against skin, muscular thighs colliding with your quivering ones in the dead of the night.
But they didn't warn you about his peculiarities, oh no.
Truth is, nobody managed to keep him interested in them for as long as you did. Hell, you still do.
You have him wrapped around your little finger, and he knows it. And a part of him loves it, being desired beyond limits, free to act upon his most twisted urges without the fear of judgement. 
Those sluts he had sex with before are nothing compared to the real deal. You.
Toji is grinning like the maniac he is when his digits pry open your lower lips, stretching them further while he's still buried deep inside your aching pussy. For a moment, the man sees how far he's driven himself into you through the bulge in your lower tummy and groans under his breath. You're so fucking perfect.
You clench around him in response, whipping your head around to see why he’s bucking into you so slowly. It's sloppy, the pace he's just set, and the Sorcerer Killer never half-asses anything.
So why- 
You don’t seem to understand what’s happening until a blunt object between your flush bodies comes out to play, and your hitched breath doesn’t go unnoticed. Startled, you look down to see the familiar shape of Toji's cursed spirit snaking around his leg and up to the hip bone, poking your entrance already full of his master’s cock.
Nope. No way I’m going to indulge him on this one you think to yourself.
"This really won't fit." you say in a daze, but the man hears you the same. And betrayal is around the corner, the first to fall your body, arching on its own at the sensation of the worm’s spongy head delving deeper. Your juices, mixed with Toji’s thick cum leaking out of your cunt, smeared all over it as it rubs itself in the ache between your legs and you gulp, ready to be smothered.
But it’s never enough, not when it comes to Fushiguro.     
Apparently your eyes are speaking louder than words because the man’s gaze is on you before you can look away. His green eyes bore a hole in you, and if he really does, you’re sure he’d find a way to clog it as well with his fingers, his mouth or some other tool of his.
“Aww, my girl wants to back off now? Too bad you can’t,” he coos, faux concern in his tone but it suddenly rises in volume when the hand still on your body. the one that nullified your clothes, slides down to where the cursed spirit is. He strokes it like he would with his cock, and something in the way he does so sends jolts of electricity down your spine.
“You can, girl. Also, we’ve been working non-stop for weeks. Let it take the edge off the stress too, would ya?”
That last sentence blows the air out of your lungs and under your scorching stare, Toji’s finger brushes the worm’s body, motioning for it to move. 
It lasts a second, but it’s more than enough, because the curse pushes into you altogether. It splits you open and you let out a scream. You spread your legs wider to accommodate both, but the stretch is still clawing from within, and it burns with every inch the spirit adds to Toji’s girth. Coated as they are in your releases, the man behind you simply laughs in ecstasy before his dominant hand finds your hair, pushing you flush against the wall again as he resumes pistoning into your pussy with force.
This time, the cursed spirit joins in and all you manage to mumble are strings of Toji's name dying on your lips when his other hand covers flies up to border one of your tits.
The coil in your stomach jumps up and down with each jerk of his in you, the cursed worm following his master’s movements to bring you closer to fold for them.
You do bend forward more for Toji to yank at your roots harder, eliciting sweet sounds from you, until his mouth is on you once more. The scarred tissue surrounding the scar scratches the back of your neck, just like the black shirt he still has on — but everything fades in the background with him so close.
You won’t last long.
“Do you want to cum? Does it feel good to be stuffed like this, uhm?”
“Yes, yes. Tojiii” whining, you stare at him dead in the eye, but lose momentum the second the worm’s head slips off just to dive back in you. Words are trapped in your throat, yet another feeble plea escapes you and hearing that, Toji’s smirk gets bigger.
“Go on, then. Make a mess.”
The softness of his pitch-black locks contrasts with the roughness, tautness of his muscles as he leans closer, his cock and cursed spirit stilling into you as you come with your head falling back on his shoulder, eyelids shut and mouth open. 
That sight alone brings Toji to his own release, and he gets so lost in the feeling of you squeezing his cock that he never stops fucking into you, not even when he spurts creamy ropes in your spasming cunt. That’s why he misses you biting your lower lip, mewling in overstimulation as you squirt all over him.
But when his gaze gets fixated on your parted legs, finally coming down from his high, he takes a double look and the shit-eating grin plastered on his face is the first thing you see after he and the worm slip out and flips you around. 
Before you can say anything his mouth is on yours in a hungry kiss, tongues battling for dominance as his fingers gather your arousal on them, both amused and proud. He steps back enough for you to catch your breath, but not far enough for him to miss your cheeks burning, taunted by the scene before your eyes.
Toji’s digits rest on his tongue, licking them clean as the dim lights of the streetlights show you the wicked man moaning at the taste of your juices.
His eyes soften as he chuckles, “Guess I’ll have to fuck you more often with my cursed spirit if I get you to squirt.
Let’s go steal some clothes now.
I can't have my girl walking around naked.” 
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© azanthys — do not copy, translate or share my works.
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woso-dreamzzz · 3 days
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Injured IX
Alexia Putellas x Child!Reader
Jenni Hermoso x Child!Reader
Summary: Things get worse before they can get better
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Two days after you and Jaume are admitted into hospital, several different things happen.
One: Jenni's manager calls and tells her that she can only take a maximum of two more weeks leave and that she needs to return to Mexico within the month.
Two: Jaume gets much better, very quickly. He's practically good as new and he's allowed out of his room for short periods of time.
Three: The pottery place lets Alexia know that her mug and your train are ready so she goes to pick them up.
Four: She comes back with your ceramic train and drops it on the floor in horror when she sees you being intubated.
'She took a turn for the worse' they tell her. 'We've upped her medication and she should be fine in a few days', they say but all Alexia can think about is the shattered train on the floor and how tiny you look in your bed.
You're moved to the ICU and remain motionless and asleep for days on end. Therein lies the second problem.
The ICU nurses are stricter than the nurses in the peds wing. They say only the legal guardians can go into your room.
You have no father. You had no other mother either, not legally anyway.
You have just Alexia. Just Alexia who can sign off on treatment plans. Just Alexia who can sign you out and be given updates about your condition.
Just Alexia who can go and sit by your bedside and sob.
It was supposed to be a good day. Jaume was better. You were going to get your train.
It's all ruined now and all Alexia can do is sob.
Jenni sobs too.
She can't see you. She can't even enter the ICU. She can do nothing but loiter in the waiting room.
She had nowhere else to go.
Eli and Alba can go and see Jaume but Jenni has nothing to do with Jaume. She just has you.
You who is intubated and asleep in the ICU. You who she had pinned down and so cruelly not explained anything to. You who was still so small and scared and stuck in hospital while Jenni would have to return to Mexico very, very soon.
"How is she?"
Jenni's ex looks away. Alexia looks exhausted, worse than Jenni's ever seen her before. There are bags under her eyes. Her hair looks unbrushed. Her clothes are crumpled.
"The doctors are optimistic," Is Alexia's answer," They think she's fighting really well. They..." Alexia's throat bobs. "They think she'll be strong enough to come off it in a day or two."
"And she can have visitors again?"
"Maybe not as quickly," Alexia explains," I think we should be conservative. Maybe not even until she's fully healthy again. I think-"
"Alexia, I have to leave soon."
Alexia breaks off. "What?"
"Back to Mexico. I've delayed it as long as I can. By the end of the month, I need to be gone again."
"What are you talking about?" Alexia still can't wrap her mind around it. "Back to Mexico? Bambi's still sick."
"I know!" Jenni snaps. "I know, Alexia. And you need to make a decision."
"A decision? Jenni, what are you talking about?"
"You need to put someone else on her papers. You've seen those doctors. We don't get told anything. It's dangerous."
"Jenni-"
"What if Bambi breaks her arm? Me or Olga bring her to hospital and they can't do anything because we're not legal guardians. What would have happened if they couldn't get a hold of you after they intubated her? They can't change treatment plans without parental consent."
"I-"
Jenni sighs, long and drawn out. "I know you have a lot on your plate, Alexia. I know, I do but this is about Bambi and what she deserves and she deserves two people on that birth certificate."
Jenni doesn't say what she wants to say. She doesn't say that she desperately wants you as her own. She doesn't say that she thinks in the deepest, most malicious part of her brain that Alexia has already ruined whatever relationship you had beyond repair. She doesn't say that she thinks a new start in Mexico would be best for you.
She doesn't say that she's already looked at a ballet academy near her apartment and that her club has some of the best childcare options she's seen in a long time.
Jenni doesn't say anything more.
She just turns on her heel and walks out.
Out of Alexia's company, out of the waiting room, out of the hospital.
She doesn't say anything until she's in her car and sobbing into her steering wheel.
Her words float through Alexia's brain even as she sits in Jaume's room with him.
He looks much better than before. The rash is gone. He's moving around again.
The only evidence that he was ever sick at all is the IV still attached to his hand, feeding antibiotics into his body to make sure it's fully gone.
"Something funny, little man?" Alexia coos as he giggles uncontrollably," What so funny, huh? What so funny?" She bounces him gently at each word and Jaume giggles even more.
"The little man's happy he's getting out of here in a few days," Olga says, hooking her chin over Alexia's shoulder," Isn't that right, Jaume? Is that why you're so giggly today?"
Jaume giggle in answer, kicking his feet out.
"Look at these kicks," Alexia coos," My little footballer, huh? Are you going to captain Spain? I think you are!"
"Your Mama and sister went home," Olga says," They'll be here early tomorrow, like always."
"Jenni went as well."
Olga goes to sit in the chair next to Alexia's, frowning. "That's unlike her. I swear, I thought she was going to sneak into the ICU yesterday."
"She told me that she needs to go back to Mexico soon," Alexia says," She's delaying it for as long as possible."
"All for our Bambi?" Olga hums," She really loves her."
"Yeah," Alexia says," She does."
Alexia is in awe of Jenni sometimes. Jenni has always loved you, Alexia thinks. Jenni's always been a part of your life even when Alexia didn't have the energy to care for herself. Jenni had always been there.
Alexia doesn't think she'll ever understand just how much Jenni adores you. You make the planets spin for Jenni. You hang the stars and the moon and sometimes, like now, Alexia wonders if she'll ever be able to live up to that.
If she'll ever be able to give you the life you deserve.
She doesn't want to give you up. Selfishly, she wants a life where she can hold both you and Jaume in bed with her. She wants a life where she can go to Jaume's football matches and your ballet recitals. She wants a life where she can win a Champion's League and see you running onto the pitch to celebrate with her.
But she doesn't know if that's the life you want.
She doesn't know if that's the life you deserve, constantly being shepherded from one thing to another, constantly living in fear that you'll be left behind again.
Alexia knows a life with Jenni, where you're the centre of her world, would be good for you too. But, still, Alexia can't help but let her heart flutter at hearing Olga call you 'our Bambi'.
'Our Bambi'.
Hers and Alexia's.
If you went with Jenni then you would be just Jenni's, no matter if Alexia kept her name on your birth certificate. You would be half a world away. She would see you when Jenni returned for international duty. She would see you a few weeks every year and Alexia doesn't know how she could cope with that.
Alexia doesn't know how she would explain to Jaume about the sister he never sees.
Alexia is your mother and she needs to do what is best for you, despite how selfish she wants to be.
She needs to decide if she can still give you the best life possible or if letting Jenni raise you is truly what will give you the best chance possible.
"Ale?" Olga asks softly, shaking her," You're crying."
Alexia swipes the tears away. "I was just thinking about Bambi. I should probably get back to her. The doctors keep saying that she won't even notice but-"
"But you should still sit with her," Olga says," She deserves to have some company. Here." Olga reaches into her bag.
She pulls out your ceramic train, the one Alexia shattered on the floor after seeing you with a tube down your throat.
"It's still missing a few pieces," Olga explains," But I tried my best. I thought you could put it at her bedside."
Alexia takes it gently, cradling it in her hands. Olga's right. There's still little chips and Alexia can very clearly see where Olga has glued the broken pieces together.
It's still fractured and broken but it's perfect.
"I love you," Alexia chokes out," I love you."
"I love you too," Olga says," Just as I love our kids. Go, Ale. Sit with her. Me and the little man will be right here."
The sun glints on your ceramic train for nearly a week until you wake up.
The doctors keep you asleep until they're certain that the meningitis is gone.
Jaume gets to go home with Olga the day before you get woken up.
There's a crowd outside your room early the next day and Alexia is the only one allowed in.
"We've taken the tube out," The doctors explain," And she'll be coming out of the anaesthesia soon. She'll be a little disorientated and emotional but once she's up, give it an hour or two, we'll check her hearing and her strength and if it all goes well then she should be out of here by late afternoon."
"How likely is it that her hearing's being affected?"
"Meningitis is known to cause hearing loss but I'm optimistic. Despite what's happened, she's fought it every step of the way. There's a good chance she comes out of this without any lasting effects."
"And once she's up? I can let people in?"
The doctor glances over at the assembled crowd. "Only one or two in the room at a time. We don't want to overwhelm her."
"Thank you."
"I'll be back soon."
Alexia retakes her seat at your side, holding your hand gently in her own. Your little hands are perfect to hold in her own. You could probably hold just a finger and it would still be bigger than your whole hand.
"I love you," Alexia whispers as she presses a soft kiss to your forehead," I love you so, so much, Bambi. You're all better now. You just need to wake up."
You don't come to for another thirty minutes or so and, when you finally do, it's slowly.
"Mami," You say," My throat hurts."
Alexia can't help the worried laughter that bubbles out of her throat. It's half in relief and half in how disgruntled you look.
"Mami?"
"Here, Bambi," She says," Sit up. Let's have a little drink."
She holds the glass as you sip the water. You lean easily into the comfort Alexia's offering, your head resting on her shoulder
"Wha's goin' on, Mami?"
"You were sick," Alexia says," But you're better now and you get to leave if everything's okay."
Your brow wrinkles. "I..." Your eyes dart around and Alexia suddenly realises what the doctor meant by you being emotional. "I want Mama! Mama! Want-Want Mama!"
Tears spill down your cheeks and Alexia knows exactly who you want.
She shouldn't take it personally. She knows you're sad and overwhelmed and you're reaching out for comfort for the person that you can't see.
Alexia knows this is normal. She's been told this is normal and yet-
Alexia pushes away her feelings, tucking you into the blankets and pressing a kiss to your cheek that you clearly welcome. "I'll get you Jenni," She promises," Just give me a second."
She pokes her head out of the door.
"Jenni," Alexia says, voice emotionless," She needs you."
Jenni's looking more relieved than Alexia's ever seen her before as she rushes into the room.
"Mama," You say, brow wrinkled and looking up at her with wet, puppy dog eyes," You hurt me."
"I hurt you?" Jenni echoes as she takes Alexia's seat," When did I hurt you, Bambi?"
"When the bad man touched my back and you held my legs."
"I'm sorry, Bambi," Jenni says gently," That was wrong of me. I'm very, very sorry."
You're still confused. Your brain feels like it's full of cotton, all fuzzy and weird like that time the tv made that weird noise and went all staticky.
You lay back down. Your head bounces a little from the force you've thrown it back into your pillow with.
Everything's all jumbled and confused and you gently take Ma-Jenni's hand in your own. She's got big hands with fingers you can wrap your whole hand around and still have your hand be too small.
You know someone else like that, you think and your brain strains to think of who it is.
You get glimpses.
Big hands. A Barcelona kit. Gentle strokes down your back and kisses on your forehead when you're sad.
"Mami," You croak out even as Ma-Jenni climbs into bed with you and cradles you against her body.
Mami was with you earlier. You can remember that. You lift your head to see where she's gone but you can't see her anywhere.
"Mama," You say, tugging on Ma-Jenni's shirt as tears still drip down your cheeks," Mami's gone! Mami's gone again!"
You don't know that Alexia's crying too.
In the bathroom down the hall, staring at herself in the mirror and only seeing your own tearful face reflected back at her.
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cammys-imagines24 · 3 months
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°•Astarion When You're Injured•°
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On the one hand, oh no, his beloved is hurt.
On the other, gods is he turned on.
Now if you were actually at deaths door, that would be different.
Astarion would be a nervous, furious, tear stained wreck. Worrying that he'd lose the single most important thing in his cursed existence.
The one thing that truly matters in his life. You.
But, if you're injured from just the run of the mill scrapes you get yourself into? Well that's fair game for him to be horny as all hell.
The way you wince when you roll up your shirt, a stab wound gouged into your abdomen.
How the blood trickles down to your breeches and stains your flesh, the crimson glinting in the slant of moonlight coming in from your partially open tent...
He'll feel his pants grow tight.
"Darling, I know you're injured and probably aren't in the mood but I must say you look positively scrumptious right now."
Astarion will watch you like a hawk as you stumble about your tent, looking for alcohol, bandages, a needle and thread.
The way you bite your lip to stifle yet another whimper, the sweet scent of your blood in the air. He licks his lips.
Oh, he could just eat you right up.
"Kitten, you've got to stop whimpering and groaning unless you want me to ravage you this instant."
When Astarion sees you go to clean yourself up though, he'll be absolutely affronted.
"Ah, ah. Don't you dare grab that rag, my dear. Have you forgotten about little old me? I could clean the blood off of you far better."
He'll say, sinking down to his knees before you. Have no fear though, the vampire will lick your wound til not a single leaking drop of your blood is left.
"This really gets you going?"
You'll ask, bracing your hands upon his shoulders for balance, your skin tingling from his attentive mouth. He's so skilled that you've nearly forgotten about the pain. Nearly.
"Well, my sweet, I could do without the you getting stabbed part but how can I resist when you're dripping red in front of me? You don't know the effect you have on me."
Astarion won't be selfish enough to ask you to take care of the little, well big, problem in his pants however.
He loves you dearly and he is here to help, in anyway he can.
You are injured and he understands that what you need from him isn't unbridled passion but sincere affection.
He will offer to stitch you up himself, seeing as your wound is in an awkward position and you can't really see it unless you're in front of a mirror.
The pale elf will tell you to lie down while he practically straddles you to get closer to the afflicted area.
Crimson eyes twinkling, fangs pearly and white as he smiles but he'll be gentle.
Threading through your raw skin carefully and giving your thigh a few affirming squeezes with his other hand when you gasp.
"See, pet? Aren't I just the best lover you've ever had? Flesh isn't so different from fabric and my stitches are perfect, wouldn't you say?"
Afterwards he'll wrap your stomach in bandages and get you anything you need.
Medicine to make you feel better and of course, all the recuperation time you need.
So much so that if the others in your camp need you that he will shove them out of your tent and order them to leave you be.
You'll not be leaving your bed for awhile that's for sure. Not while he's here to act as your nurse.
When you ask him to lay in bed with you, Astarion will give you one of his rare, tender smiles. Genuine with no mischief.
The fact that you need him and want him near is still a marvel to him.
It warms his ice cold spawn heart.
Makes him feel things he hasn't felt in 200 years.
"Oh, alright. My body is yours, in more ways than one."
Astarion will joke, flirtatious smirk slotting back into place along his mouth but he'll slip into bed without a fuss.
Your head resting on his chest, him mindful of your wrapped up abdomen.
Once you've had your medicine, rejuvenating sleep will call to you but before that you whisper how much you love him. Your words quiet in the night, against his ruffled shirt.
He'll hear you all the same and it disarms him.
"I love you too, sweetheart. You have to learn to be more thoughtful of yourself. Can't have you dying on me, now can I?"
Astarion's voice velvet, his fingers tracing abstract patterns along your back.
In his comforting embrace your eyelids droop, the pain a distant throb that you wish to have pass. His cold chest soothing against your flushed, exhausted cheek.
He'll pull you even closer, if that's possible and kiss the crown of your head.
"Sleep now, darling. I'll be here with you. Always."
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amomentsescape · 3 months
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Hey I love yanderes and slashers and used to have a sleep walking problem where I would try to crawl through windows, can you do a yandere slasher x reader where the reader has developed Stockholm syndrome and been loving to the slasher so they trust them and let them have more freedom. Then they see them try to crawl out a window in their sleep? How would they react? Would they believe the reader? What would make them believe them if they didn't? If they didn't believe them the how would they react to finding out the reader told the truth?
Thank you so much! And merry Christmas! 🎄 🎄🎄🎄🎄🎅🎅🎅🎅🎅
Slashers with Reader Who Sleepwalks & Tries to Leave
Yandere! Slashers x Reader (Separate)
Warnings: Yandere behavior, of course. Mentions of abusive behavior
A/N: Merry (late) Christmas! I hope you all had a great holiday! For this request, I decided to leave Eric out. He's just the complete opposite to a Yandere in my opinion, and it was nearly impossible for me to write him as such. I hope that's okay!
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Freddy Krueger
He knows you would never purposefully leave him
Like, he actually knows
His (undead) life revolves around sleep
He knows when you're awake and where you're actually sleeping, even if he keeps you stuck in his dream world
So when he finds you trying to escape out of the little window he built for you, he just laughs
He had already known you sleep walked
He'd been haunting your dreams for weeks prior to actually taking you
Freddy just keeps watching you, not really doing anything about it
You're stuck in his world either way
Might as well see how far you'll go
He'll almost use this as a test of sorts
He'll let you wander to wherever you want to go in your sleep, and he may even change the environment to something you don't recognize
When you wake up, his name better be the first thing that falls from your lips
If it's not...
Well, he'll just have to try harder at getting you to need him
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Michael Myers
It took a very long time for Michael to get to this point
The fact that he lets you sleep without chains is a huge decision on his part
He doesn't trust easily
And any feelings of trust he did have come crumbling down the moment he wakes up without you beside him
It didn't take long to find you
There you were, pushing and prodding at the boarded up window
He's truly pissed
And a little hurt
He really thought you were growing to actually like your situation
But when he spins you around and sees your eyes staring blankly through him, he tilts his head
You don't seem... right?
He'll shake you harshly until he sees the life come back to your eyes
When you finally look up at him with a similarly confused look on your face, he starts to realize
He understands you well enough to know when you're not acting like yourself
When he finally explains what you were doing after you repeatedly asked him, you sigh
You explain that sometimes at night, you wander around without realizing it
A sleepwalker, huh?
Sadly, the chains will need to come out again
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Jason Voorhees
You wouldn't actually leave him, right?
You seemed so caring
He actually believed you when you said you needed him
But here you were, trying to leave your shared home in the middle of the night
He almost breaks down as he picks you up and takes you back to your room
He finds it a bit odd that you don't fight back at all, but he assumes you just don't care to
He locks you up and makes sure that you can't go anywhere
How could you do this to him?
When you wake up the next morning in chains and not in your shared bed, you begin to cry for Jason
He tries to ignore you, but he can't bring himself to hear your sad voice calling out to him
You try your best to tell him that you don't remember what happened, and that you would never leave him
And maybe he's too trusting, but he believes you
You just seem so sad and so genuine that it's impossible for him to think it's anything other than honesty
You couldn't be that stupid anyways
You'd get lost in those woods alone at night, he knows that
So he just has to believe you
He loves you, and love means trust, right?
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Thomas Hewitt
But you were being so sweet to him just hours before
How could you lie to his face like that?
He wakes up without you in his arms, and he just about loses it
Frantically searches for you around the house and finally finds you at one of the nailed in windows
He pulls you away quickly, staring at you sadly
He's waiting for an explanation, but you don't say anything
You just stare
You weren't acting like yourself
He pushes you back towards the bedroom and you walk the rest of the way yourself, climbing back into bed with ease
He's confused, but decides to see if it will happen again
You can't leave anyways
The whole house is locked up, and you don't even know where the keys are
You act just like your normal self the next day
And that night, you're back to walking around with a blank stare
He figures this just might be a thing you do
Doesn't really try to stop you, but he does follow you most nights to make sure you don't accidentally hurt yourself
On nights he wants you in bed, he ties some old fabric around your ankle and holds you tight while you sleep
You might not ever know about your late night adventures unless he decides to tell you
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Bubba Sawyer
He's quite literally blubbering to you
He's crying, he's frantic, he even shakes you a bit, and you just stand there not responding
He keeps waiting, and when you start to just wander around again, he loses it
What's wrong with you? Why are you acting like this?
He ties you back into bed and stays up the rest of the night, watching you
The next morning, he confronts you stressfully
You keep telling him over and over that you don't know what he's talking about
But he refuses to believe you
(He wants to believe you, he's just scared)
He only finally realizes you were being honest when in the middle of the day during your nap, he finds you wandering back to the window with his whole family watching you
You weren't stupid
Why would you try to leave when literally everyone could see you in broad daylight?
His family begins laughing and saying things like "looks like you got yourself a sleepwalker"
So you weren't purposefully trying to leave him?
He cries tears of joy and spends the next couple of days pampering you and giving you just about everything you want
He does his best to show you that he's sorry
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Brahms Heelshire
It's quite literally known that Brahms has abandonment issues at this point
So when he catches you climbing up onto the window sill
He loses it
Will grab you and roughly pull you off, your body falling to the ground
This immediately wakes you up, your eyes searching around frantically
When you see Brahms standing above you, you try to reach for him, but he only shoves you away
You look so sad and confused at this, but Brahms is too stubborn to give in
He starts tying you up again each night, still very hurt that you would try to leave like that
It takes weeks for you to gain his trust again
And the one night he lets you sleep freely, he catches you by the window again
But instead of grabbing you immediately, he decides to just watch
He wants to see how far you'll go so he knows just how severe your punishment will need to be
But instead, you just give up on unlocking the window (it was jammed), and you just turn around and walk straight back to bed, not even registering Brahms being right there
This is odd
You need to explain the concept of sleepwalking to him the next day
He still remains skeptical for a while, but he'll come around
You just need to be extra attentive for a while...
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Norman Bates
Norman already knows a lot about sleepwalking
(It's what he thought was going on for a while when he couldn't remember large chunks of time throughout the week)
When he finds you opening a window in the middle of the night, he bolts at you, ready to lock you back up in one of the motel rooms again
However, when you don't respond or reveal any emotion on your face, he immediately knows what's going on
He's surprised
He didn't know you'd be a sleepwalker
He decides to just lead you back to bed, knowing that waking you isn't the best idea
Sits you down the next morning and talks with you about it
When you seem very apologetic, he uses it to his advantage
Has you cuddle up with him even more than normal and stay by his side at all hours of the day
He still gives you some freedom
But he's always watching
He does take some precautions and ties your wrist up in the middle of the night
He has to, for your safety of course
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Billy Loomis
To be honest, you don't make it very far
Billy has an iron grip on you at all times, and he's a light sleeper
The moment you get up, he's awake, observing you carefully
Sometimes you have to pee in the middle of the night, but he still makes sure you aren't lying to him
His ability to trust is practically in the ground
The moment you turn the wrong way, he's up and chasing after you
Were you that dumb? You knew he watched you every time you got up from bed
He grabs your wrist quickly and points a knife at your throat as a threat
He can't bring himself to actually hurt you though, not that you knew that
Or did you?
Because you just stand there not even moving away from the blade
Billy becomes very confused
He takes his hand and begins to wake it in front of your face, looking for some sort of reaction
You don't give him one
Are you still... asleep?
He shakes you a bit until you finally look at him, confusion written all over your face
You're a sleepwalker, aren't you?
He just rolls his eyes annoyed and drags you back to bed, not explaining anything
Just another thing he needs to look out for now
You sometimes wake up to bruises on your hips and waist from how hard Billy holds you in the night, but he's just trying to protect you, right?
He doesn't mean to hurt you, he just refuses to lose another person in his life
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Stu Macher
Stu literally sleeps on you, so it's nearly impossible for you to leave the bed most nights
But if you somehow wiggle your way out, you wouldn't make it outside the house
The windows have been nailed so that they only open a small amount
When he finds you the next morning, curled up under a partially opened window, he just smiles
Call it naive, but he just assumes you were getting too warm in the bed
When you wake up in a confused state however, he becomes concerned
What do you mean you don't remember opening that window?
He honestly just becomes more worried that there's something wrong with your memory rather than you trying to leave him
He'll likely talk to Billy about it
He just hears laughter from the other end of the phone
"Sounds like they sleep walk," he'd say
Stu does a bunch of research on it later
He doesn't really mind though
All of the unsafe objects are already hidden away, and every possible exit is locked down
You aren't going anywhere
If anything, he finds it fun to wake up some mornings and look around for you
It's like a game, and Stu loves games
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Text
My Girlfriend is a Menace (Menace series) - LN
Summary: Lando's girlfriend finds anyway to embarrass or torment him but he loves her regardless
Kind of love the idea of Lando dating an nightmare of a girlfriend for his PR team but her loving her regardless and always defending her or protecting her when it comes to people being too harsh on her. Maybe a new series? Idk.
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Lando honestly loves his girlfriend. He loves the fact she trolls haters online, she has the same sense of humour as him, she is his PR team's nightmare and most importantly she bullies and annoyed the hell out of him.
"Lando, mate...what is y/n doing there in the background? I keep seeing her moving around in the background there." Max questions making Lando smile sarcastically before shifting back, knowing the inevitable.
Y/n appears on the screen sitting on his lap and leaning into the mic while Max already start laughing.
"Hi, Max. Lando promised that we could have a skincare night then forgot and came on here. So I'm doing it anyway, because he promised." Y/n states while he smiles behind her.
Truth be told, he may not have forgot, but sometimes he loves showing her off to the world. Plus she's became a meme within the F1 community from her responses to haters in his chat that are against her dating Lando.
"Did he?" Max hums unconvinced Lando forgot a promise. If there's one thing Lando isn't with y/n, it's forgetful. "When you two come back to England, can you come feature in my stream?"
"Is that an invite?" Y/n pouts looking completely touched by the idea that Max would want her on his stream.
"Don't make my girlfriend cry, you know she'll shed tears over anything." Lando jokes while poking y/n's ribs teasingly which tears her eyes from Max before she spots the chat and immediately rolls her eyes.
"Sorry, Lando. The chat is right, I'm dumping you to pursue the real love of my life...Max."
"Told you mate. I'm irresistible." Max laughs then earning a grin from the young woman before she remembers what she's meant to be doing. "You know, I think we should just pause the game. Lando, your skincare routine has been asked for for months. Time for the fans to know."
"Y/n, talk them through it."
"Ok, baby." Y/n smiles turning around to tap his cheek. "Need to cleanse first-I need a cloth, wait here. I'll be a minute Max."
Y/n takes off jumping up from his lap while Lando grins not being able to shake off how good it feels to see her so excited.
"Jesus, did you do this on purpose to show her off again?" Max questions while Lando just raises his middle finger to the man through his camera. "Could just say yes."
"I could." Lando hums before she reappears moving back onto his lap with her mumbling something about him not distracting her. But once she's cleansed his skin she gets out the face mask. "Ah, no baby. No-"
"You promised." Y/n pouts making him groan since face masks are only annoying because it means he has to tame his facial expressions. "It doesn't dry down. This one is a yoghurt one."
"Uh, ok? Does that do something good?"
"Shut up, you muppet." Y/n tsks while Max cackles watching her wipe it on his face, he's turned the chair so it's not just a view of her back blocking the sight of what she's doing. "Does it feel ok? I don't want to give you an allergic reaction or something."
"Yeah, it's fine."
"Can he play the game with the mask on?" Max asks making her look and nod with a thumbs up.
Another minute later of Lando actually realising how relaxing it is for her to do his skincare.
"Ok, I'll leave you to play on the game, it's a 20 minute mask...don't touch it, or try to eat it." Y/n instructs earning a nod before she leans over kissing him softly while he rolls his eyes at her feeling the need to tell him not to eat it.
"Thank you, I'll see you soon." Lando smiles before she climbs off of his lap and blows a kiss to the stream.
"When I come over to see you Max, I'll do your skincare on stream too so the chat can really get riled up." Y/n smiles sarcastically sending Max into some hard laughter before she's up on her feet and Lando smacks her ass clearly as a warning but also just because he can.
-
Y/n smirks looking at Lando's Vegas helmet since she giggles at him, since she's seen posts and comments about the helmet which she just thinks are really funny.
"What?" Lando questions, immediately recognising the expression from her.
"Everyone is saying it's great that you've got a helmet dedicated to Taylor Swift."
"You're so annoying." Lando groans while she just laughs at him before he shoves the helmet on her head and pushes her onto the sofa in the McLaren unit. Smiling to himself as she breaks into hysterics from his actions.
So far in Vegas, y/n has been even more of a menace to the point that the McLaren PR team has begged Lando to essentially leash her. Apparently her being at the casino in a fairly immodest dress and blowing through quite a bit of her own money, all of which she documented.
"Ah no. You already got shouted at and nearly cried. Don't leave my side." Lando states catching her arm when she tries to make a break for it.
She did actually get yelled at by the PR team while Lando wasn't around, since they wouldn't have dared speak to her like that in front of Lando and he had words with them about them not cornering her whether he is there or not. But also, he knows they're stressed and she does have a questionable public image. She's young and just doesn't care what people thing.
"Lando..." Y/n pouts while he sighs knowing that she likes to go out and socialise with others around the paddock. "Ok...I'm sorry."
"I love you." Lando whispers softly knowing that a strong-willed and bold his girlfriend is, she can also be quite sensitive behind closed doors and she isn't always so quiet and softly spoke so when she is he knows to try and reassure her.
"I love you too." Y/n murmurs as he moves closer and kisses her forehead before tucking her head under his chin while he hugs her tightly. "Does that mean I get to sit in the car with you for the race?"
Lando can't even stop himself from laugh as she shifts back to look up at him with a grin.
"No, you're going to your second boyfriend."
"Maxie! Where is he actually?"
"I don't now, we can go find him though." Lando smiles knowing his friend always perks up his girlfriend's mood, if only because she likes to make Max constantly wish Lando was still single. She's like an annoying little sister who lives to frustrate Max when they're side by side.
-
Y/n not being a fan of the cold, the first skiing trip with his friends doesn't involve her but that doesn't mean she's inactive.
"Hi, everyone. I'm on Lando's stream. He uhhhh...he's on holiday and I'm going to try to figure out how to game. He always tries to get me to do it...no I'm not going to break it. I know how to turn the damn turn otherwise you wouldn't see me right now." Y/n smiles then sighing. "But...I don't know how to get the game screen up...No! No. No one tell him! No one tweet him or message-oh actually he's skiing right now so he won't look at his phone."
After nearly an hour she finally gets the chat to guide her before she is up playing COD.
"Oh yeah, baby. Time to play." Y/n grins then sighing and settling back in the seat. "When I was younger, my dad used to want me to play games with him...but that was on the PlayStation 2. So we're going to see how I cope with this change. Lando is actually coming home tomorrow, I've just ran out of things to do at the moment and I saw his stream set up."
Y/n ends up gaming with all sorts of people through hours of playing and slowly but surely she picks up her skills again and the chat goes from primarily telling her to get off to actually rooting for her and telling her to make her own channel on twitch.
What she doesn't realise is that she ends up playing for the better part of the whole day till Lando appears in the dark background and she literally screams nearly breaking his headset that she'd had to wear plugged in after the battery started to die.
"Baby! Baby! It's me. Stop hitting me!" Lando laughs kneeling on the floor as she slaps at his back, not really hard but enough to keep him down. Though he's wheezing from his laughter.
"No! You scared the fuck out of me. Who grabs someone like that? And why are you home early?"
"I'm not! And you're supposed to be ready to leave for our trip home." Lando cackles as she finally stops clearly confused. "And I've been trying to call and message you for hours since my fans told me you nearly reached the 24 hour mark of playing on COD."
"I-what?"
"Alright, guys. Y/n is done, I'll help her set up her an account another time. We have to go and she has to sleep. Thank you for watching her completely destroy everyone on COD, thank you for sharing clips with me." Lando smiles before ending the stream while y/n rubs at her eyes realising how sore they are.
"Fuck...now I know how you manage to play for so long." Y/n groans rubbing her eyes and yawning as it all hits her at once. "I didn't break anything I promise."
"I know, but you did make enough unhinged and unfiltered comments that I think my PR teams messages about how your temper might be a risk to my safety were genuine and not just jokes." Lando smirks while she smiles and rushes to him, jumping up to wrap her legs around his waist as he catches her and there's an immediate kiss.
"I missed you. How was your last day of skiing?"
"It was good, but we need to get over to Woking." Lando states while she hums resting her head in his neck. "No. You can't sleep yet, wait till we're on the plane."
"Mmm...but I'm tired now." Y/n yawns latching onto him when he tries to encourage her to get down.
"But we have to travel." Lando chuckles shaking his body till her legs finally drop and he cups her face lightly. "Alright, baby. We'll be quick. But maybe next time keep an eye on how long you're gaming for."
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