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buckys-little-belle · 1 month

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Im scared to but my first Barbie, but I really want one! Sooooo bad. Can you maybe write Steve and Bucky meeting a she/her reader in the Barbie spot in a store and being nice to her? Maybe buying her a Barbie and some clothes? And they are just nice?

Barbie Aisle Buddies

Stucky x Shy!Little!Reader (She/Her Pronouns Used)

Warnings - The reader is generally a worry wart so she has a bit of 'panic' and worry during this fic, it gets resolved by the end and fluff ensues after her worry.

Notes - I honestly pulled inspiration from a fic I had written a while ago about a shy reader in a toy aisle, so I hope it's okay that I made the ready shy. This is also pretty short! But also so cute!!! Also I know it can be scary going to a store and buying toys but I promise you it's okay! I have bought so many Barbies and Barbie toys like clothes, and I described a Barbie I own in this story! Don't let worry eat you up, go buy the Barbie! Trust me when I tell you it's worth the worry, having fun dolls that I get to play with and dress up is so fun and I don't regret getting them! You only live once bubba, don't let the worry get you down for too long! I hope you get a Barbie soon!!! <3

SFW - Keep all interactions with the post, and this blog, SFW!

. ☾ . ☆ . ☽ . ☆ . ☾ . ☆ . ☽ . ☆ . ☾ . ☆ . ☽ .

Y/n had been hyping herself up for a month now. Twenty dollars in her pocket, and a determined state of mind were all she had as she walked up and down the Barbie aisle of her local grocery store. It was a small selection of dolls, yet so overwhelming at the same time.

Some dolls had different jobs, chef, doctor, fashion designer. Others had fancy outfits or animal sidekicks. It was hard to pick just one doll, but seeing as she only had enough money for one doll, she knew she had to pick just one.

"Hello." A man's voice broke through her overthinking, a man stood just a few feet away, dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, some worn out sneakers on his feet. He looked familiar, though Y/n couldn't place just where she had seen him before. "I'm Steve." He smiled, turning to look at the same shelf she had her eyes on previously. "It's hard to pick one, isn't it?"

"Um." Y/n panicked, trying to remember the excuse she had made up regarding why she was in this aisle. Did she land on 'getting a toy for a friend's kid' or 'I have a birthday party to attend'?

"Steve!" Another man's voice called out. This time a man dressed all in black, combat boots and gloves included, planted himself a few feet away. "Hi there, Doll." He smiled, Y/n couldn't help but smile back, the man's charm winning her over. "Which one do you have your eye on?" He asked as he scanned the shelves, hands crossed over his chest, looking at the plethora of choices like he too was thinking about getting one.

"Oh, I'm not, I'm just, you know, a, I don't, I." Y/n began stuttering, trying to get out an excuse, any excuse, to make them believe she wasn't buying a Barbie doll for herself.

"Dolls don't have an age, Doll." The man without a name chuckled. "If you're looking for a Barbie to play with I would suggest one that comes with a few items." He began pointing to a few sets she had looked at, but sets that were over her budget.

"I like this one." Y/n quickly grabbed a doll she had her eye on. She was a chef and came with a pan and what looked to be a fried egg. She had a chefs hat and coat, and looked fun enough, but the biggest pull was it was the only doll with accessories that was in her price range.

"She'll need some everyday clothes." Steve squatted down to a lower shelf, rummaging through some small containers for a set of clothes.

"I can't, I just. This is all I can get." Y/n smiled with a hint of self conciseness. Admitting you didn't have a lot of Barbie money to strangers wasn't the end all be all, but at the same time it still felt extremely venerable.

"Well, Doll." The unnamed man with a smile full of charm spoke again. "It's your lucky day then." He pulled the cart Steve must have brought closer to the shelf. "Pick whatever you want."

"What?" Y/n shook her head taking a step back, confused as to what he meant.

Steve was the one to speak up this time. "You don't know who we are, I'm guessing." His smile was softer, more gentle. "I was formally known as Captain America." The truth felt like a weight had been lifted off Y/n's shoulders, her happy to know that she wasn't crazy for thinking he looked familiar.

"And I'm his sidekick, Bucky Barnes, formally known as The Winter Soldier." Mr Unnamed added on.

"Oh." Y/n nodded her head, taking in the two men, even more confused as to why they were wasting their time in a local stores Barbie aisle with her. "Sorry for bothering you."

Y/n was ready to dash with her doll, worried that the super soldiers she just met would grow tired of her quiet demeanor. "Doll." Bucky called out, his voice commanding yet it still had a joking tone to it. "Come back here and pick at least four things."

"Buck." Steve whispered loudly.

"Steve." Bucky said back, his tone condescending. "Doll, please let us but you some dolls. It would make our day." She still hadn't turned around and had half a heart to run, yet for some reason she turned around and took a good look at the shelf.

There really were some sets she'd love to have, like the farmers market stand and a little dog set, and Steve was right, her doll needed everyday clothes. "You won't make fun of me?" She asked, worry surrounding each word.

"Wouldn't dream of it." Steve put his hand over his heart, an action that made her giggle.

"I'm Y/n." She finally gave them her name, a small smile breaking past her worried expression.

"It's nice to meet you, Y/n." Bucky and Steve said at the same time, the three of them laughing.

"Which outfit do you think your doll would look best in?" Steve held out a few options, letting Y/n ponder over them as Bucky tried to convince her to pick the Barbie camper as one of her choices, as if she had a spot for such a big play set.

"I like this one." She pointed to a package that help a blue dress, pick shirt, and jean skirt. The shoes were cute too, and she got excited at the idea of dressing her doll in the outfit.

So there they all stood, Steve and Bucky trying to convince Y/n to get super expensive things, and Y/n trying to figure out how she got so lucky to have two super soldiers worrying over her new doll collection.

#buckys little belle #anon #age regression #age regression fic #little!reader #bucky x reader #bucky x little!reader #bucky barnes x little!reader #bucky #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #steve rogers age regression #steve rogers x little reader #steve rogers x little!reader #bucky barnes x reader

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pashminalamb · 5 months

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Hii bb, hope you're doing great

Idk if you're taking requests anymore but if you are is it possible to do one for shidou ??

Slutty man with a slutty waist with slutty intentions.

He is the whiny and immature one in the relationship.

Has a lean built body, slutty back muscles and visible abs that are lean which can be felt but not bulky.

Blonde happy trail - has dyed it before (ofc)

He’s an adrenaline junkie. If you think he’s crazy during sex you’re right, but after? he is insane.

Tags : fingering, a little rough play, mentions of one pussy slap, hot and cold shidou, submissive fem! reader

Expect pupils to be dilated and taunting.

“You thought I was done huh? Keeping me satisfied after the third one ‘n tryna make me cum early after the fourth when you clenched around me.” Ryusei said, fingers going in and out of your soaking wet cunt while you tried to stop him, thighs pressed against his hand tightly praying he would stop taunting you.

“Nah nah ya ain’t gettin away this time ~” he chuckled, fingers toying with your clit making you scream, his other hand playing with your breast as his strong legs held yours down, chest pressed against your back and lips nibbling your ear.

“I’m gonna fuck you till you’re full of my cum. Till your pussy can’t hold it and you leak all over the fucking place. And then… I’ll just have to fuck it again won’t i ~ she’d be so sad if she was empty wouldn’t she?” he cooed, slapping your cunt lightly, a whimper escaping your lips.

“Aww it’s okay ~ it’s alright, baby. I’ve got you. Your boyfriend has you.” he soothes you, kissing your neck sloppily.

Also Ryusei :

“How ‘bout I turn you into a mommy ~”

#belle.☏#.lost sheep : anon #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #shidou ryusei x y/n #shidou ryusei x you #bllk smut #blue lock smut

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distant--shadow · 1 year

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"that day i called out for you both from my truck-

your hair, and then your face-

-it was familiar to me imogen.

then i saw your scars.

that's how i knew...

your mother is a very powerful woman."

#imogen temult #fearne calloway #critical role #bells hells #cr3 #browz au #heres some more fearne for you anon #fearne in this au is p much always high on the reefer #imogearne

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amamiofacciouncasinoo · 5 months

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hussyknee · 1 year

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What would your reaction be to a pilot program confining male comedians to safe asylums until they prove they are safe to interact with women and kids? Ideally they would be able to perform under guard and psychiatric supervision, and after a period of years a panel of social workers, doctors and women from the community would assess their compatibility with society at large.

Which males are those? Black? Brown? Indigenous? Undocumented immigrant? Muslim? Disabled? Mentally ill and neurodivergent? Queer? Trans men? Unhoused and poor? All of those men already get arbitrarily thrown in what you euphemistically call "safe asylums" because their very existence is seen as dangerous to women and children. It's why I'm a prison abolitionist. And now you want to add the crime of making bad jokes?

See where it says "Radfems DNI" on my bio? That means clowns like you who send me asks like this. Even if you meant it as a joke, this entire premise is grossly ableist, and pathologizing half the human population frankly unhinged. Take your white female victim complex and GTFO.

#read some bell hooks and Foucault and maybe you'll calm down #asks #anon #anti radfem #misandry #white women #involuntary commitment #prison abolition #intersectional feminism #tw ableism #tw sanism #knee of huss

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vellichorom · 17 days

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women named peanut butter in some life & twice as sweet...

A FUN LITTLE HANDFUL OF SOFT FUZZY WOMEN FOR MY BELOVED @tomiechu ~

look familiar? FUN FACT! these are all based off of sailor moon shots!

#uwu art #Spooky Month #hello again spooky month tag i come bearing art at LEAST vaguely related to the show <33 #Shelby Belle #OCs #TO THE NICE ANON WHO WANTED TO SEE FUZZY WOMEN THIS ONE IS FOR YOU #she's not the fuzziest she could be.... ( because this is merely a bust ) but understand me #FUN AS FUCK TO DRAW OUGH..... thank u tomie #ALWAYS HAPPY 2 DRAW HER FOR YOU

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blughxreader · 5 months

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Heya! The story person again, let’s call me (Dead Men’s) Bells for now

So here’s my general plan: I want to write a novel if I can manage, with all the terrible horrible bullshit Andre would do in there.

“The Will to Break”

Generally I’m planning to focus on the slow and steady mental break down and dehumanization that would go down, really get into the desperation of it all.

Some thoughts I’ve had so far (nsfw, no con, degradation):

“You’re fucking filthy aren’t you? I didn’t know a bitch could get this wet while being electrocuted.” I felt his fingers swipe along my underwear, pressing down against me. I clawed at the collar around my neck, but I couldn’t feel my fingers let alone unlatch the damn thing. I hate him. I hate him. I hate myself more. The pathetic sound I make when he slides his fingers in disgusts me. Shame wells up and sears my chest. I’m crying unbidden and he’s fucking laughing. He grinds against my thigh and I sob at how hard he is, at what comes next. His fingers move in me like a brand. And I wish I could voluntarily pass out.

“Stop- please Andre, please.”

But he doesn’t listen. He never listens.

Something like that!

Anyhow what names would he call you? Should I reel it in a bit?

Whenever I get the doc going (prolly in a week or 2) feel free to ask for editing permission!

AAAAAA a NOVEL? Bestie you're incredible.

Please that premise sounds impeccable.

Just a note on his character (that's hard to convey through my usual writings/art), is that he's totally smitten with MC. Yes, he does really deplorable things, but in like a cuteness aggression sort of way.

in the beginning, he's like

60% "you're mine, I can do what I want to you, I want your mind on me 24/7, I get sexual and emotional gratification knowing you're dependent me" and the secret 40% "shes so fucking cute i need her now in every possible way."

and the latter percentage increases exponentially the more he gets to know the MC.

So i really love what you have so far!! It shows he's a nasty piece of shit that's totally obsessed with this girl's every reaction.

To answer your question, he's very patronizing. He will use cute names like "sweetheart, honey" to coax a reaction, then throw it back in her face by calling her his dog, slave, pet, whore, etc.

He doesn't raise his voice, either. Just goes straight to the shock collar (to constrain) or embarrassing and slow punishments.

Don't reel it in at all, it's perfect. Best of luck and have fun! I'd love to see what you come up with <3

#blughxreader andre #bells anon

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lizziesribbons · 25 days

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I want to go a cute picnic in the park date with emo!wanda

-Imagine sitting on a quilted blanket under a tree (because Wanda hates the sun) and in a secluded place (because Wanda hates people).

-I’d bring my speaker and play soft music as we begin setting everything out, while talking about our day.

-I imagine me laying reading a fantasy book, as Wanda sat against the tree, sketching a pic of me.

- I told her to bring her guitar and she did, because she knows I want to hear her play (and not stare at her fingers. And the way the muscles in her hands flex as she plays the different cords…)

-I’ll feed her a grape, and then she’ll feed me a raspberry, but as she places it in mouth she also slide her thumb in, with a quiet, yet firm “Suck” followed by a “Good girl” as the task was carried out.

-We’ll lay back at watch the clouds together. I’ll scoot closer to her and throw my leg over her hip, getting extra comfy. As I lay my head on her chest, I feel the coolness of her rings against the skin of my lower belly. My body tenses slightly as they inch further and further down.

- “Relax babe” she would tell me “I got you”. I then feel her fingers slipping into my panties, but not before feeling the wet spot on them.

“Plea-” I’d try to beg, but i’m cut off as she slides in two of her fingers.

“I said relax” she would then place a semi rough kiss on my lips “Don’t cum till I say. ”

Jk, lol. I lied. I just want to get fucked my emo!Wanda. The picnic was an added bonus.

~🌱

This is so hot and um I'm going kind of insane at the thought of emo! Wanda fucking you in public like...

🌱ANON YOU GIVE THEEEE BEST SCENARIO ILY FOR THIS

#🌱 anon #🌱#bell babbles #i want her to eat me out #Bro how badly I want emo Wanda like ugh #elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen x reader #lizzie olsen #elizabeth olsen x y/n #wanda maximoff #mommy wanda #wanda maximoff x reader #dark!wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff smut

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flowerygarrland · 11 days

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Man standing emoji

#well #micah bell #my art #flowery garden / ocs #iiiiiiii dont wanna tag rdr2 but for the sake of this blog's navigation #rdr2 #SIGH #i cant fix him but i can distract him so in that way we get a happy ending problem solved #if you see this person i anon asked something about being cringe and free no you dont #river sarto / oc

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elliesbelle · 8 months

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hiii love idk if you’re taking requests but if you are, would you be able to do something elliexreader based off of the song wish you were sober or heather by conan gray <3

while i die

chapter 1

pairing: best friend!ellie x reader

synopsis: only if ellie knew how much you loved her. but she likes someone better.

content warnings: modern au, cursing, angst, unrequited love, no comfort

word count: 4.3k

chapters: 1) while i die, 2) rained on with you, 3) eviscerated

series masterlist

my masterlist

i have a ko-fi if you like my work so much that you feel compelled to tip me ♡︎

the heartbreak trilogy spotify playlist

based on the conan gray song "heather"

a lot of y’all have asked for a part 2 to this one-shot, so i made a promise that if y’all get my friend’s band “equal creatures” to 350 followers on spotify, you will get a part 2 ♥︎

You roll over in bed towards your nightstand after a restless night of sleep. The first thing you reach for is your phone, which had been blaring for a while to wake you for work. You hit the seductive “snooze” button, not having any actual intentions to fall back asleep but knowing that you’ll stay lying in bed for two more hours if you’re not reminded to get up every eight minutes a few times.

Unlocking your phone, you check your messages first. Two texts: one from your best friend Beth and another from your close coworker Lina. As you read their respective messages, you feel a black hole beginning to open up in your stomach.

She still hasn’t texted me back…

After responding blandly to your friends, you reluctantly open up Instagram and scan the stories of the people you follow. You ignore all that of your friends and instead tap on the one with the picture of a face you’ve memorized like the back of your hand. When it opens, your stomach lurches and your eyes go glassy.

The first story was posted the night before and is of a tattooed hand holding a bouquet of flowers with a caption that reads, “her faves.” You notice that the flowers are pink camellias. Her new girlfriend’s favourite flowers. Your favourite flowers.

The next story was that of two hands woven together with a caption that read, “she loved the flowers” right next to them with several heart emojis. One of the interlaced hands was adorned with several silver rings, one of which you recognized very well. You were the one who picked it out and gifted it to her.

“Dude, what! This looks fucking amazing!” Ellie cried out.

In her hands, she held a small, velvet blue box with a silver ribbon falling around it, unwrapped. Inside the box, safely cushioned, was a shiny, silver ring.

“Wait, wait, wait,” You said, excitedly. “Check this out.”

You picked the ring up from the box, lifting it up to her eye level. Delicately, you twisted what looked like a tiny hinge on the side to reveal that the ring actually contained multiple bands. The outer, exposed brim was decorated with ornate spirals. The next one had Latin engravings that you vaguely recognized as astronomical terms. The innermost hoops were inscribed with the symbols of the Western zodiac. You twisted the hinge back the other way to once more conceal the inner bands and give it the appearance of a singular ring again.

“Holy fucking shit!” Ellie cussed loudly, dropping the box to clutch at your hands still holding the ring. “How the fuck?!”

She snatched the ring out of your fingers, twisting the ring open and closed over and over. You giggled at her childlike enthusiasm.

“So… You like it?” You asked, chuckling.

“Fuck, yeah! Of course I love it!” She exclaimed. “It looks like a fucking armillary sphere!”

“I genuinely have no idea what that is or what that means,” You admitted truthfully. “But as long as it makes you happy—”

“Dude, of course it does!” She said excitedly. “You are the greatest best friend ever. Oh man, I’m never taking this shit off.”

Ellie tried it out on several fingers and found that it fit best on her left ring finger. You desperately pushed away any and all implications of the positioning.

“You really know me so well, man,” She sighed, admiring the ring on her hand. “You didn’t have to get this for me! It’s not even my birthday or anything!”

You shrugged nonchalantly, even if the intentions behind your generosity were anything but nonchalant.

“I just saw it and thought that you might like it.”

“Well, you were wrong because I love it.”

Ellie gave you a huge grin that ignited a wildfire in your stomach.

“Oh! It’s made of sterling silver too, none of that cheap shit. So it won’t leave you with those gross, green stains or anything.”

Ellie looked at you completely dumbfounded.

“I really don’t know what I did to deserve you in my life.”

You tap uneasily to view Ellie’s following story. The fingers holding your phone grow cold and begin to tremble as your eyes warily take in the face of Ellie’s new girlfriend.

She was incredibly beautiful, undeniably so. Her eyes sparkled, mirroring the gentleness of a clear, blue sky on a bright, sunny day. She had the face of an angel, the ones you’d see in Renaissance paintings: pure, gentle, exquisite. The genuine, trustworthy look on her face makes it impossible for any sane person to hate her.

Some part of you still did. But being desperately in love with your best friend meant you weren’t fully sane in the first place.

You realize that she’s wearing a familiar sweater: Ellie’s favourite grey, polyester hoodie. You of all people knew how incredibly attached to that sweater she was, almost like it was a safety blanket. You couldn’t blame her; it was soft, warm, comforting. She took better care of it than she usually did the rest of her clothes. And it always smelled like Ellie.

The caption for this picture was, “someone stole my favourite hoodie.” She’d tagged another Instagram account, sunny-heather, and it took everything in you not to click on it.

Ellie’s girlfriend posed shyly with a bashful smile, throwing up a peace sign. It appeared as if Ellie had caught her mid-giggle. She had a perfect manicure, straight white teeth, dimples on each side of her face. She looked so sweet, nauseatingly so.

She looked so beautiful wearing that sweater.

December had just begun and the weather was finally catching up with the season. After a mostly and uncommonly warm month of November, you hadn’t bothered wrapping up earlier that morning before leaving the house. It was to your detriment when around midday, you were hit with gusts of brisk air that brought goosebumps to your bare, uncovered arms.

Later that afternoon, you and Ellie visited your local Starbucks for both situational and liquid heat. Ellie had taken pity on your shivering form all day and lent you her hoodie, having already been wearing a warm, long-sleeved shirt underneath. You’d initially declined it, but when your body began to reach hypothermic levels, you quickly pulled it over your head and accepted its polyester warmth.

As you got in line to order, Ellie was teasing you for your poor choice of winter attire.

“This is why you check the weather before you leave your house, dummy.”

“It was 62 degrees over the weekend! I didn’t know it was going to be this cold all of a sudden!”

“Dude, it’s already the third of December. You should have expected it to get cold as shit at some point.”

“At some point! But not yet, I’m not ready!”

Ellie playfully rolled her eyes at your sheer stubbornness as the cashier called you forward. You both ordered large hot chocolates, neither of you a huge fan of coffee. You and Ellie played a brief dance of who was going to pay for your drinks. Ellie eventually and quickly won, as she usually did. You conceded and consented to be the one to leave some cash in the tip jar before you both scooted over to the side towards the pick-up counter. You bickered affectionately back and forth until your drinks were eventually placed in front of you.

You visited this particular Starbucks regularly, partly because of its convenience in distance to both your apartment and your job. But mostly, it was larger than a usual café and spacious enough for several quiet, peaceful corners for patrons to occupy. Ellie’s and your favourite spot was a table on the loft-like second floor where you could look down at other customers and make up stories or pass off harmless, though sometimes needless, judgment.

As you carefully sipped your hot chocolate, you and Ellie made your way upstairs to your usual, unoccupied table. You made yourself comfortable, sitting across from her. She rolled up her sleeves instinctively, showing off her arm tattoos, including the one of a moth perched on top of several ferns. Of all her tattoos, that one had always been your favourite.

“So are you planning on wearing my sweater all day or—?” She inquired.

“What do you mean ‘your’ sweater? This is mine now.” You proclaimed.

“Hey!” She protested. “Don’t you dare think of stealing my favourite hoodie!”

“It’s just so comfy!” You giggled. “And it’s so soft and cozy, and you know how much I love polyester.”

“Thief.” Ellie chuckled.

You made a show of burrowing into the hoodie in order to claim your clothed territory. Ellie laughed at your goofiness.

“See, this sweater was made just for me!” You insisted, returning to a regular position.

“I mean, I will admit that it does look better on you than it does on me.”

You blinked.

“Really?” You asked.

“For sure, dude,” Ellie insisted. “I just look like some boring, basic white dude when I wear it. But I don’t know, you kind of pull it off.”

“I pull off a plain, grey sweater?”

“I don’t know what to tell you, man! You just look cute in it!”

Your cheeks grew so warm that their heat rivaled that of your hot chocolate.

Before you could properly respond to Ellie’s casual, off-handed compliment, she spoke up once more.

“We should really come here more often.” She said.

“Oh, umm,” You began, still reeling from the moment. “Yeah, we should. We don’t go as often as we did back in high school.”

“Yeah, we really wasted our allowance on so many shitty, dry cake pops.” Ellie recalled. You laughed at the fond memory.

“Why the sudden interest though?” You asked curiously.

“I mean, this used to be our ritual, you know? Getting drinks and just hanging out here for hours.”

“You know, we do that everywhere else already, El.” You smiled, shaking your head.

“Okay, true, true,” Ellie relented. “Buuuut, did you happen to see the barista that took our orders earlier?”

Your eyebrows furrowed before looking down towards the ground floor and scanning the front counter. You weren’t quite sure which one of the several baristas had served you, not having paid much attention when you were putting your orders in.

“Uhh, I guess? I mean, not really.” You admitted. “Why?”

“What do you mean ‘why’?” Ellie playfully scoffed in surprise. “You didn’t see that she was hot as fuck?”

Your stomach dropped at her words.

“O-oh.” You murmured. “I guess I didn’t notice.”

“Come on, dude, you have eyes! She was gorgeous!”

You gulped as you felt your heart plummet towards the floor.

“Do you think I should ask for her number?” Ellie questioned, completely oblivious to your shift in demeanour as she tried to sneak a peek at the front counter below.

“Oh, umm, sure, I guess so.”

“I mean, I don’t wanna come off as a creep. Plus, she might not even be gay.”

Your fingertips grew colder and colder with each second that passed, despite the way you were grasping your warm cup tightly. You would have been more worried about your drink exploding in your hand if you were much more present in the moment.

“What am I talking about, she works here. Of course she’s gay.” Ellie chuckled at her own joke.

You could barely muster enough of your trembling voice to reply, settling for a seemingly agreeable hum.

“What do you think, dude?” Ellie asked, finally turning back towards you.

You feigned a smile, succeeding only in giving her a weak, partial one.

“Go ahead, El. Why not?”

Ellie’s last Instagram story was what sent a jagged knife through your heart.

It was a video this time: she had her arm wrapped around her girlfriend, who was still wearing her hoodie. Both wearing wide smiles, they were both snickering about something for a moment or two.

Then Ellie planted a kiss on her lips. And again. And again.

As the video ends with their lovey-dovey giggling, your lips let out an involuntary sob. You press your fists onto your eyes in an attempt to stop the tears from falling. Head throbbing and gut nauseated, your body trembles from the waves of anguish crashing down on you.

You stare at the ceiling and consider staying home from work. Nobody would benefit from being around your zombie-like presence. But feeling pathetic about missing work as a consequence to your broken heart, you chastise yourself for the mere thought of it.

You spend a few minutes composing yourself, pushing every emotion to the back of your brain as forcefully as you can. It seems to last for a lifetime, but you’re able to eventually soothe your tears and take several deep breaths.

Forcing your lifeless body out of bed, you begin your pre-work morning routine. The streaks on your cheeks from the unfaithful tears previously falling were scrubbed away when you washed your face. Tremoring fingers prepare your breakfast, which you end up mostly throwing out as a result of a queasy stomach. It feels completely futile to continue your day, but Ellie’s world continues to turn. Why shouldn’t yours?

You’re at work, spacing out as you’d been doing so often recently. Coworkers continue to ask throughout the day if you’re alright, but you merely smile every time and assure them that you’re just tired. That same smile fades once you turn away, a vacant expression taking its place once more.

Before you came to work, you made the resolve not to check your phone every twenty minutes to see if your previously unread texts were responded to. But as each hour passes, fighting the urge becomes more of a struggle.

On your lunch break, you relent and finally check your messages. You only have one unread text from your best friend Beth, checking on you. None from Ellie.

You begin to chew nervously on your lip before switching to your nails when your friend and coworker Lina finds you. She pulls up a chair to sit next to you before tugging your fingers away from your lips.

“I thought you stopped biting your nails,” She says, frowning. “You were doing so well.”

“Sorry, Li-Li,” You reply, gingerly pulling your hand back. “I just—”

“What happened now?” Lina asks knowingly.

“Nothing,” You sigh. “That’s literally it. Nothing. She hasn’t texted me or called me or anything. She hasn’t even read my messages or even seen my Instagram stories.”

“Babe…” Lina says sympathetically.

Your friends have been lovingly chastising you lately for obsessively checking if Ellie had viewed your Instagram or Snapchat stories. You’d unintentionally trained your eyes to scan through your stories’ viewers to spot Ellie’s picture and username. Whenever you wouldn’t spot a picture of the auburn-haired girl among the list, you’d fight the instinctive urge not to break down every time.

“You can’t be doing that anymore,” Lina continues. “You’re driving yourself crazy.”

“What am I supposed to do, Lina?” You ask desperately. “It’s the only thing I get from her nowadays, and it’s barely anything.”

“Exactly, it’s barely anything,” Lina repeats. “I know you love her, but…”

“I know, Li-Li.”

“She’s not even being a good friend right now. You deserve better than that.”

“I really don’t.”

“Stop that. Yes, you do.”

“I just want her, Li.”

“She’s obviously not good for you, honey.”

Your phone buzzes from your alarm alerting you that your break has ended. You stand up from your chair.

“I’ll talk to you later, Li-Li.”

You hadn’t replied to Ellie all day, ignoring her texts asking if you wanted to come over and hang out.

Ever since that day when Ellie asked out the girl from the coffee shop, she’d been spending immense amounts of her free time with her. The rest was spent with you, talking about her. Ellie hadn’t been much of a talker ever since you were both kids, but now she was endlessly babbling to you about her new girlfriend.

You’d learned that her name was Heather Sonnen. She was in her final year of college and was attending a university nearby. She was studying to become a veterinarian and had a golden retriever named Sunny. Her favourite colour is purple. She likes to go hiking and kayaking on the weekends when she’s not working. She was very good at kissing and even better in bed.

Every little detail you learned about her felt like yet another crack on your already broken heart. You spent many sleepless nights bawling alone in your bed, screaming and crying over a pathetic love you could never do anything about.

It felt so sick, so pitiful that a girl who would never kiss you or touch you or love you took up every corner of your mind. You knew you could never be pretty enough, never amount to Ellie’s idea of a dream girl. And this new beautiful, angelic girl she’d fallen for continued to prove that.

You would watch the way Ellie’s eyes lit up any time she spoke about her, the goofy grin on her face every time she said her name. You’d seen Ellie through several other relationships, each one treating your heart like a Hans Moretti box. But this time, her glow was brighter and her smiles were wider. You could tell just how far and how hard she’s fallen.

As you were laying on your bed, your phone buzzed as you received another text from Ellie. You ignored it and closed your eyes, having no desire to hear more about her perfect saint of a girlfriend. After several more minutes passed, your phone began buzzing in succession. You sighed, waited a few moments, and eventually relented to answer it.

“Hey, Els,” You greeted her. “Sorry, I was napping just now.”

“Oh, my bad, dude. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s okay.”

“Have you not seen my messages though? I’ve been texting you all day.” Ellie demanded.

“Oh, sorry, I just haven’t really been on my phone today.” You lied.

“Bullshit, man, you’re always on that thing.”

“It’s the truth, Els, I promise.” You lied once more.

After a second or two as Ellie considered your words, she responded.

“Alright, well, I was trying to see if you wanted to hang out today.”

You stopped yourself from audibly sighing.

“Sorry, I can’t today. Got a lot of shit to catch up on and take care of.”

“Come on, dude, blow it off. I haven’t seen you all week.”

“I really can’t, Els, not today.”

You heard Ellie exhale in frustration on the other end of the line.

“What’s been with you lately? We’ve barely hung out this month and you take forever to text or call me back nowadays.”

You began to chew the inside of your cheek.

“I’ve just… been going through a lot lately. That’s all.”

“What, and you can’t tell me about it?”

“N-not really.”

“Why not? I thought we’re best friends. And don’t say that Beth is your best friend; I 100% had you first.”

“We are, we are, but—“

“If something’s going on with you, I seriously wanna know.”

“It’s nothing important or specific. Just been struggling mentally and all. Not been having the best time.”

A moment or two passed where you held your 1breath, hoping she’d buy yet another lie.

“Okay. I’m sorry you’re going through that right now. Can I do anything for you?”

“No, it’s okay.” You replied, sighing in relief. “I’ll be okay.”

“Alright, well, if you change your mind, just let me know.”

“I will.” You said, knowing you never would. You couldn’t do that to her.

“I—“ You began nervously. “I’m really sorry about today, Els.”

“It’s okay, dude.”

“Maybe tomorrow, if you—“

“Ahh, can’t tomorrow, I have plans with my pretty girl.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Actually, I’ll text Heather in a bit and see if she can hang out right now so we can get a head start on our all-day date tomorrow. I planned out all this romantic ass shit to do.”

“Ahh.” You replied, voice constrained in pain. Ellie didn’t notice.

“Oh dude, I didn’t even tell you about this new strap I got for her—“

“Hey, Els,” You interrupted, not wishing to hear the rest of her sentence. “I think I hear someone at my door. I’ll call you back in a little bit, okay?”

“Oh, okay, that’s fine. I’ll be right here.”

“Right. Bye, Els.”

“Talk to you soon—“ She was saying as you quickly hung up the phone, unable to further control the sobs that had been threatening to emerge ever since Ellie had said her name.

You rolled to your side and hugged your legs to your chest, attempting to calm your hyperventilations. There was a ringing in your ears accompanied by Ellie’s words.

“…my pretty girl.”

“…planned out all this romantic ass shit…”

“…this new strap I got for her—“

You’d been trying desperately to be a good friend to Ellie for the past month, despite everything. You’d listened and planned and supported, all the things a best friend should do. But the more mesmerized Ellie grew, the more everything within you died.

You never bothered calling Ellie back that day.

The drive home from work was mundane and uneventful. An old song sung by Ray Charles about being in love with your best friend plays on the radio. The second bridge is cut off when you turn the key in the ignition and exit your car.

The steps you take to reach your apartment feel heavy, and it takes everything in you not to collapse where you are. You don’t even bother to take off your shoes when you cross the threshold into the dark entryway. The cushions of your living room couch wheeze sadly as you collapse into them.

You drop your work bag onto the floor next to you before turning on the TV. Eventually, you choose to put on some basic early 2000s sitcom as easy background noise. It’s something you’ve seen several times before and your mind doesn’t fully process what the plot is or who the characters are or what episode you’re on.

Your eyes gaze away from the television screen and to a blank space on one of the walls. There’s a spot where the wall’s off-white paint was accidentally streaked off the first week you moved in. Ellie had been helping you hang a picture up, and you were fooling around too much that the ladder you’d been using almost slid down and left a mark. You never bothered covering it up.

You stare at the mark as if it’d transport you back to that day, back to the mostly carefree moments when pining after your best friend was a mere minor inconvenience. But her love for another and ignorance of your struggle turned that inconvenience into an anguish you were not prepared for.

That day you fully accepted the feelings you had for Ellie, there was something within that knew instinctively that you could never have her. She was an impossible dream that the universe cruelly created to be untouchable. Deep inside, you knew a long time ago that your plain, boring friendship was just a placeholder for something bigger and more meaningful in her life. And she seems to have finally found that.

Blinking yourself out of your stupor, you eventually tear your eyes away from the wall. You take your phone out of a pants pocket and open up Instagram. Accepting the feelings of miserable self-pity, you once again scan your stories’ viewers for Ellie’s name. You finally spot it. You let out a sad sigh.

I guess she at least remembers I exist.

Orange and purple dance around Ellie’s profile picture before you tap on it. She’d posted a story from a local band she liked and another about a new video game release she was excited about. The last was a selfie of her posing in her bathroom mirror.

It was an inconsequential picture, just another Ellie thirst trap. She looked handsome in it as she always did. But something catches your eye, and you wish it didn’t.

On her left ring finger, she was wearing a silver ring. But it wasn’t one you recognized. It wasn’t the silver ring you’d gotten for her. The one she always wore on that finger.

Maybe the ring accidentally broke. Maybe it got dirty and she has yet to clean it. Maybe she just felt like switching it out for a day.

Each excuse you come up with seems more and more pathetic. You know there was no point in justifying it, no point in finding reason. You know that Ellie wasn’t overanalyzing it. Not like you are now.

Your heartbeats are heavy and you suppress the reflex to throw up. You open up your messages and tap on Ellie’s contact, knowing the most rational thing was to simply move on and continue being her friend. But what you find abruptly breaks your heavy heartbeats.

The text messages you had sent still remained unanswered. But there was a slight change.

She read my texts… five hours ago…

Ellie wasn’t always a big texter, always preferring old-school face-to-face interaction. But with you, she had always been the kind of friend to respond right away. Even if just to say she was busy and would respond when she was free, she never left you hanging.

Your jaw tenses and your vision momentarily becomes blurry. Your bottom lip trembles and you find that you can’t stop hastily bouncing your right knee. Tears form behind your eyes and your cheeks grow feverish, but you’re unable to process or feel anything except the movement in your hands.

Your shaky fingers lead you to Ellie’s contact in your phone without a second thought. You click “Edit” and delete every piece of information, from her picture to her birthday to her nickname. You save your changes and scroll downwards. You stop sharing your location with her before glancing at those conclusive three words in red right at the bottom.

Block this caller.

Without hesitation, you definitively tap the button.

author's notes:

this was very therapeutic. did this describe something i’ve been going through lately? no why would you think that what gave you that crazy impression ahahaha (shut up no i'm not thinking and pining over my ex, shut up!)

pink camellias because pink camellias represent longing lmaooo, i love symbolism and etc.

the ring reader gave ellie is based on a couple ring i gave to my my ex-girlfriend (the one i live with, not the one i’m in love with)! it’s super cool, i felt like it would be something ellie would wear!

is the part about reader obsessively checking if ellie has viewed their insta stories based on real life? no, why the fuck would you say that

the whole starbucks and hot chocolate thing is a little reference to something in my personal life but i refuse to elaborate further

me once again inserting myself in reader with them always saying they’re tired when someone asks if they’re okay cause news flash, i’m always tired 🙂

reader’s friends’ names beth and lina are inspired by my irl best friend and work bestie’s names :)

ellie’s gf’s last name is purposeful but i again refuse to elaborate further

the ray charles song mentioned is “you don’t know me” but my fave rendition is actually by jann arden from the “my best friend’s wedding” soundtrack (my family’s obsessed with the score of that movie, we had the tape and then the CD of it and played it nonstop growing up)

sorry this took forever to write cause LOL it may have been a little hard cause it was a little TOO autobiographical... hope y'all enjoy anyway lmao

taglist: @elliessknife, @mina-2812, @bellasfavepansexual, @slaysksmska, @theganymedes, @sno-leopards, @cosmikoo, @elliesnumber1gf, @eleactric, @thatgiraffefromtlou, @bellswlw, @kissesforells, @ratdungeon, @elliewilliams8fingers, @wex--12

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buckys-little-belle · 1 month

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Hi!! I love your story’s and am always looking for little and daddy Bucky story’s!! I was wondering if you could do insecure reader who’s bigger. She has bigger thighs a bigger tummy and face. Could you do reader is scared to sit on buckys lap or for him to pick her up and carry her around the house. She’s too scared she’s heavy and will crush him and his legs. or that he will drop her because she’s too big. She also never cuddles and sleeps with him in his room always sleeping in her room after he puts her to bed because she’s scared about her breathing or how she sleeps.

Bucky gets her to tell him why and then comfort. Just fluff fluff fluff. If your not comfortable writing this I totally understand!!! If you do could you ad paci use? Thank you!!! Sorry for the rambling…

Strongest Man Alive

Bucky Barnes x Plus Sized!Little!Reader (She/Her Pronouns Used)

Notes - This is not my best work, and has been in my drafts for MONTHS, it's something cute, and a little angsty at the beginning, but it does get super fluffy at the end. It's a little bit different than my usual writting style, so I apologize for that, but I do hope you like it and if not I'm so sorry! I hope I did this ask justice, and I hope everyone is having a good week!!! <3

Warnings - Talks of reader being self conscious for being 'bigger', kept very vague as she uses the words "heavy" and "squishy" to describe her body type instead of more concrete descriptions, the use of a pacifier is very brief as it's something I'm not used to writing, though I would be willing to continue, mentions of reader eating food "snacks" and "sandwich" though never specified, FLUFF at the end, but there is a moment of angst, I DON'T KNOW IF THIS IS A COHEARANT STORY, it's from the drafts and I gave it a once over and I think it's 'good enough' so I apologize if it's terrible <3

SFW - Please keep all interactions with this post, and this blog, SFW.

. ☾ . ☆ . ☽ . ☆ . ☾ . ☆ . ☽ . ☆ . ☾ . ☆ . ☽ .

Y/n often spent their time at the Avengers tower sitting, standing, lingering around Bucky Barnes. It wasn't on purpose, the man just seemed to be the other half of some magnet imbedded deep in Y/n's heart. He just had some ability to pull her towards him.

Maybe it was the way he cut her sandwiches into perfect triangles, or the way his hand always found hers when she got scared. Maybe it was the way he seemed to be reserved around anyone but her that made her feel so connected to him.

He never sulked but always seemed to walk around with a frown stuck on his face, only ever changing it to a smile when she walked by his office or stopped by his room.

As much as Y/n felt like she was pulled to him, Bucky felt it multiplied by 100. His hands always aching to hold hers, his chest always feeling heavy when he began to think about her needing something and him not being around to help her.

The whole tower knew about Y/n's regression. Wanda and Peter often joined in, hanging out in little space and colouring in books Tony had provided, watching whatever new animated movie had just come out and sleeping over in makeshift tents in the living room.

Often other Avengers would help supervise activities, Steve loved playing action fighters in the common areas, Nat loved cuddle puddle on the couch, and Thor was always ready for a park day. Bucky on the other hand liked to stay in the shadows, buying stickers for the group of littles, making them lunch and dropping it off.

Bucky only stuck around if Y/n asked him to hang out with her. "Bucky can you hold my hand?" She had asked him when at the park, he of course grabbed her hand and helped her up the jungle gym.

"Bucky can you open this please?" She had whispered during a movie, her baggie full of snacks too difficult to manage on her own. He opened the baggie and held it in his own grasp, handing her a piece of candy anytime she had finished the previous one.

"Bucky will you colour with me?" She had yelled her ask one day when he was passing by the kitchen, Y/n sat at the island with markers scattered across the marble. He silently sat down and diligently coloured the page she had given him, helping her chase markers that had fallen.

He knew she was comfortable asking for what she wanted, and he knew she wasn't afraid of him ... so, it made his chest tighten every time she asked him to grab something from the top shelf instead of asking to be lifted like Wanda and Peter often asked.

He also felt off every time a little would come running out of their room after a nightmare, rushing into someone's room for a cuddle, yet Y/n's door never opened and neither did his.

Bucky was sure it was his fault she didn't seek him out for cuddles, he thought he had done something wrong when she never asked for a hug. Was it his arm? Was she scared he would turn on her? He couldn't figure it out.

That is until he realised she never asked anyone for a cuddle, or a hug. Nat, Wanda, and Peter would be all comfy on the couch and Y/n would be sat on the chair, a small frown on her face yet she never tried to find a spot next to her friends. And when she scraped her knee on the playground she declined Thor's offer of a "healing" hug.

"Y/n?" His voice was quiet but direct as he called out into the playroom, Y/n sat on the softly coloured rug, her stuffed animals scattered about.

"Hi Bucky!" She smiled, her pacifier tumbling out of her mouth and onto the ground.

"Hi." He sat down across from her, quickly pocketing the fallen pacifier before sought out the, now, dirty thing. "What are you playing?" His hands brushed a stuffed teddy, Y/n tilting her head in confusion as she looked around her.

"'m just dressen 'm up." She smiled at him, grabbing a stuffed unicorn and brushing it's fur back into place, shuffling closer to Bucky as she gathered a few other stuffed animals.

The moment her knees hit his she shifted back, so Bucky shifted his towards her again. Like clockwork she moved and left a small gap between them. "Y/n?"

"Mhm." She looked back at him, her smile one he could easily read through.

"Am I scary?" He asked calmly, not once loosing eye contact as she shook her head 'no'. "Do I smell?" He asked, this time with a laugh.

"No!" She giggled.

"Then why do you run every time I touch you." Instead of answering she bowed her head, hands running over the stuffed animal anxiously. "Why don't you hug Wanda or Peter?" He was worried that all the questions would make her want to run, but as she huffed and leaned into his space slightly he continued. "I know Thor was pretty sad when you declined his hug the other day." That one wasn't a lie, the man had gone on a rant about how he thought he had done something wrong, how he was sure Y/n hated him.

"I jus', I don' want them t' be mad." She admitted, huffing at the end of her sentence. "'m jus', 'm heavy, an' squishy. Wanda and Pete aren't heavy an' squishy." She admitted, eyes locked on the wall, the stuffed unicorn held a little closer to her body.

"What do you mean Baby?" Bucky asked, confused as to what she was alluding to.

"It's harder t' pick me up." She finally looked back at him, tears beginning to gather along her waterline. "And cuddling wif me wouldn' be th' same." She shrugged, trying to play it off like she wasn't bothered by her own words.

The tightness in Bucky's chest didn't ease up with his answer, his worry only growing. He had hoped it was an easy thing to fix, yet knowing Y/n didn't hug her friends, or him, because she felt too big made him hurt. "Baby," He began, not giving Y/n a second to doubt him, he picked her up and sat her in his lap. "you aren't 'too heavy' to pick up." He hated how quickly she curled into his chest, how clear it was that she was missing human connection. "I'm the strongest man alive, and you saying that you're too heavy is going to bruise my ego a bit, Baby." They both laughed, a few of Y/n's tears hitting the fabric of Bucky's shirt.

"I thought Steve was th' strongest man alive?"

"I let him win when we arm wrestle." Bucky admitted, causing Y/n to break out into a fit of giggles.

"'m gonna tell him!" She stood up, bolting for the door.

"Oh no you don't!" Bucky ran after her, lifting her off her feet in the middle of the hallway, Y/n pausing with a gasp, bracing for the two of them to fall, yet laughing along with Bucky as jostled her around, threatening to take her new colouring page off the fridge if she told anyone his secret.

After a pinky promise and some juice Y/n began to trust Bucky a little bit more. She let him pick her up at the playground, and gave him a hug before bed every night. She still worried her hugs were 'bad', that maybe no one would want to hug her because she wasn't 'little' but Bucky never once complained, instead asking for hugs in the morning too.

It took her a while to truly trust that Bucky wasn't lying when he said his back didn't hurt after picking her up, but eventually she became comfortable enough to run and jump into his arms, something she had always dreamed of doing.

It wasn't until a month later that Bucky woke up at 4 am to the sound of Y/n's hurried footsteps rushing to his door. Light creeping in from the opened door she didn't close as she ran to his bed. The sound of soft cries and whispers of "Nightmare" filling the usually quiet space.

Instead of letting her think too much about how she 'should' be cuddling, Bucky just scooped her up and tucked her into his bed, letting her know he'd protect her, and her stuffed animal. He liked having her in his room, it made him feel at ease knowing she was close.

After a few months of staying in Bucky's room, Y/n began to get out of her shell a bit more, hugging Wanda and Peter, and eventually accepting Thor's 'healing' hugs. She finally joined in during the weekly cuddle puddle, laughing along side Nat and her friends as they all got cozy on the couch. And for the first time ever she let someone else, the second strongest man alive, Steve Rogers pick her up. A pride filled movement the man would never forget.

Even though it took her a little longer than everyone else to be comfortable hugging and snuggling, she was happy to finally be apart of the group in ways she wasn't before. Bucky, the man who still often stayed in the shadows, helping from a distance, couldn't help but feel a little lighter every time he saw his girl get over her worries, knowing if anything got to be 'too much' she'd come running to him.

#buckys little belle #anon #age regression #little!reader #age regression fic #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x little!reader #bucky x little!reader #bucky

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