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sluts4matt · 1 day

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SECRET (part three)

pairing: nate doe x sls!erika sturniolo

summary: she had hidden her feelings away for years, but with growing up and toxic relationships it was all starting to resurface.

warnings: none

word count: 1283

authors note: i'm sorry updates for this are so slow. edit: sorry for not posting this last night my little brother was in need of cuddles to sleep.

view my master list here

the past two weeks had been agonizing. i wasn't allowed to hang out with nate for a month. yet here he was, sitting in the living room after school playing play station with the boys.

i rubbed my hands over my face, sighing as i walked down the stairs towards the kitchen. "hey erika," nate greeted, causing me to smile. "hey nate," i say, getting a juice from the fridge.

"where's mom?" i ask.

"garage maybe?" nick said, looking away from his phone for a split second to look at me. "thanks," i say, shooting him air guns.

"mom!" i call, walking towards the garage. "mooooom!"

"what erika?" my mom says, poking her head out from behind the garage door.

"can kayla come over?" i ask, looking at her with pleading eyes. she sighs and shrugs her shoulders. "yes! thank you!" i exclaim, smiling widely. "thank you thank you!"

i run over and kiss her cheek, making her laugh. "open doors," marylou states with pointed fingers, "open doors." i roll my eyes and smile at her, nodding.

i pull my phone out of my pocket and dial kayla's number. "hello?"

"my mom said you can come over," i say excitedly. "be there in five," the girl on the other side giggles.

"she's gonna be here in five!" i yell, walking up the stairs. i get no response from any of the guys, and sigh, knowing they can't hear me over their own voices.

i go into my room and change into a new shirt, tossing my previous one into the hamper. i sit at my desk and wait for kayla, "i'm here!" a voice exclaims, making me turn to the doorway.

"she's here," i repeat, giving her a hug. "what first? gossip about sydney?" she asks, i roll my eyes at the mention of one of the girls we hated the most. the only true reason being she was rude as hell.

"no," i say, sitting back down, "how are things going with you and jay?" she groans and plops onto my bed, her eyes closed.

"not well," she groans. i give her a questioning look and she sits up. "i'm pretty sure he has a thing for someone else," she huffs, her hands moving wildly around her face.

"no," i deadpan, "what? no way. i thought he really liked you?"

"that's what i thought," she sighs, looking up.

"i'm so sorry kay," i whisper, hugging her again.

"it's fine," she laughs, her mood changing. "so, let's talk about you," she smirks. "not much there," i say, not mentioning anything about nate.

"sure," she chuckles. "oh, did you hear about the party at liz's house?" she asks, her eyes wide with excitement.

"liz? party? you've got to be kidding," i scoff, laughing a bit. "my mom would never let me go, especially not right after i just got busted for smoking and drinking," i tell her.

"that's why sneaking out is a fun thing to do," she says and i shake my head. "did it once, do it twice it becomes a habit," i state.

"oh come on," she whines.

"kay, if i get caught, i'm done," i stress. "fine," she pouts, crossing her arms over her chest.

"you can go," i say, her eyes lighting up, "but i can't, kay." she smiles and hugs me. "thanks eri," she says, standing up. "i'll see you at school," she says, walking out of the door.

"bye!"

a few days later, it was the weekend, and i was bored. the boys were on a trip to california and kayla was sick. i sighed as i watched the tv hung on my wall, changing the show every so often.

knocks sounded from my door, causing me to turn my head. "it open," i call. the door opens, showing my mom's face as she peaks her head in.

"i'm going shopping, need anything?" she asks, i shake my head and she shuts the door. a few moments later i hear her car leaving and the sound of the garage shutting.

i walk downstairs and check the time on my phone. 10:49 in big white letters, i groan, tugging at my brown roots.

"i should dye my hair," i say to myself, pulling my phone back out to google ideas.

after 30 minutes, i had a few good ones, i instacarted black and red hair dye to the house, as well as hair bleach and began the process.

i grabbed bowels, going to the bathroom where i set out old and stained towels.

i took a deep breath, looking at myself in the mirror. "don't fuck up," i mumble to myself. i wet my hair, then began adding the bleach after mixing the toner and developer together.

as i applied the bleach, i foiled the strands. when i finished i set a timer for thirty minutes as i waited for the bleach to do its job.

after the timer went off, i rinsed my hair, the water running a gross, pale-yellow color down the drain. i washed my hair with purple shampoo to tone it, drying my hair some with a towel before parting it down the middle of my head.

i opened the red dye first, squeezing the contents of the tube out. i sectioned the hair on the left side and began adding the dye.

i repeated the steps until the whole left side of my head was covered in the red dye.

i repeated the steps with the black, waiting an hour for it to develop on my head before i rinse.

after i rinsed, i wrapped a towel around my head, blow-drying my hair and brushing through it. when i pulled the towel off, i smiled, running my fingers through the soft, now black and red strands.

i took a snap sending it the kayla, with the text 'thoughts??'.

'omg!'

'you look hot!'

'so much better than that boring brown'

i smiled at her texts, feeling a little more confident with my appearance. i put stuff away, throwing the empty tubes of dye in the trash and washing the bowels that held the contents.

i ran upstairs, grabbing my phone and flopping on my bed. i scrolled through tiktok, stopping to watch videos every now and then.

as i was about to fall asleep, my phone rang, making me jump. my mom's name popping up on my phone, the options accept or decline flashing.

"yeah?" i say, answering the phone. "be there in five, i need help carrying in groceries," she says. "ok," i reply, getting off of the bed as the phone goes dead.

i slip on some shoes and walk outside, the cold breeze blowing against my warm skin. i see my mom's car pulling up, before it pulls into the driveway. "you changed your hair," she states, getting out.

the trunk pops open, revealing the back loaded with grocery bags. "i was bored, do you like it?" you ask. she runs her fingers through it, squinting slightly due to the sun.

"looks good on you sweetheart," she says, smiling.

we make multiple trips, bringing in bags as fast as we can. "how was shopping?" i ask, helping her put the stuff away. "fine," she breathes, putting canned foods on a shelf.

"you have work later?" she asks, and i nod my head, "six o'clock sharp." she nods her head, "when's dad getting off work?" i ask, "four," she replies, checking the time.

"what's for dinner?" i ask, closing the fridge and grabbing my phone. "probably spaghetti," she says, "can you help set the table when it's time?"

i nod my head, "yep," i say and then go back upstairs.

tag list:

@hysteria-things @tillies33ssss @soimightlikeoldmen69 @sturniolossss @freshsturns @etvar12 @sstvrnioloo @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloa @chrryclouds @sturniolhoe @sturniolowhore @imwetforyourmom @novasturniolo03 @spencerstits @junovrsmp4 @breeloveschris @skyslondon @stars4chratt @monkeyscientist22 @sophssturn @hearts4chriss @l5ka @sturnlovr @blahbel668 @sturncakez @livvy4realll @raysmayhem-72 @jnkvivi @mssturniolo

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shima-draws · 10 months

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Is it just me or has this summer been. Absolutely awful regarding allergy season

#It's been. SO bad.#Today especially has been Not Fun #I miss winter so much baby come BACK #To everyone who likes summer: Why #This summer specifically has made me Hate summer entirely. Like. It's been all sorts of terrible #I love you fall I love you winter I can't wait for you to get here #Shima speaks #I'm wearing a mask again! Inside my house. Which apparently has air filtering with our new AC #But here I am!! SUFFERING!!#Homophobia at its finest. Let me BREATHE #Two more months...and then I'll be free...free from sniffles and sneezes and watery eyes...

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strawberrysturniolo · 4 months

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fic reqqq

can you pretty pretty please write a fluffy kind of sleep aid fic w chris where yall cuddle in bed tgth and u start snoozing and he tucks u in and everything🫶 np if not your writing is actually so bomb like everytime i see a new post from u i start foaming @ the mouth like a rabid dog and gnawing on my enclosure 😭

sleepy // bf!chris

soft chris

summary: you spend the day filming with your boyfriend and his brothers and can't wait to go home and snuggle in bed with him.

The entirety of my day has been spent following my boyfriend, Chris, and his brothers around while they film.

We started our day by getting lunch at a local diner, did some shopping afterwards at a flea market, then finished the night off with a few rounds at Top Golf.

“Good job, babe!” I cheer my boyfriend on as he makes a perfect swing.

He turns around grinning before handing his club to his brother, Matt. “That was pretty good, right?!” He sits down next to me and tosses his arm around my shoulder. I tilt my head to the left so it lays perfectly on him, and he pulls me closer, kissing the top of my head. When his other brother, Nick, leaves the table to film Matt’s turn, Chris leans into me, whispering, “I really appreciate you coming out with us today.”

My exhaustion is evident. I thoroughly enjoy spending time with them on days where they are filming, and while I’m usually hidden somewhere off-camera to maintain privacy, it’s still fun to watch my boyfriend do something he loves, and interesting to see him at work. I have to say, walking around all day so they can get content in, and now sitting down watching them golf only reminds me of how tired I am.

“Sleepy, baby?” he asks, nudging me lightly when he sees my eyes falling shut.

“Mhm,” I hum into his shoulder.

“I’m sorry. I know it’s been a long day.”

He uses his left hand to carefully push my hair out of my face, using his other hand to pull me closer to him, falling asleep right at the table.

“Alright Chris,” Nick calls out. “It’s your turn, come on.”

I can feel Chris’ head turn a few times, looking between me and his brothers. “Can you go for me? I don’t really want to get up.”

I struggle to push myself up because of how tired I am, but I manage. “No, go play. We’re almost done anyway. I just need to stick it out until we get home and I’ll sleep well tonight.”

“Are you sure?”

I nod, not wanting to kill the mood for them.

He delicately kisses my forehead before tossing his arms around his brothers, his energy back to 100% when the camera is on him.

One thing about Chris is, no matter how private he wants our relationship to be, he will always find a way to show some sort of PDA when we’re around people. Whether it’s holding my hand, putting an arm around me, having me wear his clothes. He may not fully makeout with me in a public setting, but he’ll still kiss my forehead and hold me in his arms so everyone can see how much he loves me without losing an element of our intimacy.

The boys finish up their game, and when we head back to Matt’s car, he suggests we go to get a late breakfast tonight. I of course am mid-yawn when this comes up.

“Why don’t we head home?” Chris counters. “We already have a lot of footage from today, and if we need more we still have tomorrow.”

Matt groans, but when Nick sees me half-asleep in the backseat next to him, he sides with Chris. “He’s right. Let me work through this footage tonight and see if we need to go back out tomorrow before we end up with an hour long vlog that will take me an extra day to edit.”

I end up passing out asleep on the drive back despite it only being 15 minutes. I’m lightly shaken awake and greeted by my boyfriend’s hushed whisper.

“Baby, let’s get you inside okay? We’re home and you can sleep in bed.” He unbuckles my seatbelt and carefully leads me out of the car and inside the house, guiding me downstairs with his arm around me. “Go change into your pajamas.”

I pull out a Fresh Love set from his closet and toss my clothes from today into the hamper while Chris is in the bathroom. He comes out with makeup wipes and pulls one from the package.

“I can do that,” I say quietly.

“No, I want to.” He flattens out the makeup wipe and gently rubs my face with it, checking it every few seconds to make sure the product is coming off on it. “You’ve had a long day and it’s partly my fault. Let me do this and then you can brush your teeth and wash your face.”

Another minute passes before Chris discards the now used makeup wipe into the trash. I then head into the bathroom and wash off any remaining makeup and brush my teeth, climbing into bed once I’m done.

Chris follows me through all those steps, laying in bed next to me and smirking at my choice of pajamas. “I love when you wear these.” I have no energy left in me to speak. I simply nod and hope he can read my mind. His fingers trace my face as I doze off, slowly going in and out of my slumber. His arms wrap around me and pull me into him, and my face nuzzles into his chest. He uses one hand to push the covers into our bodies, tucking us in and keeping us warm while the ceiling fan balances the temperature out.

He places one more kiss on my head as he rubs his hands over my back.

“I love you so much,” he whispers into my hair.

I mumble a muffled, “I love you,” back to him before falling asleep for the night, the last thing I remember being him holding me tight and feeling the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes.

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x reader

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woso-dreamzzz · 2 months

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Injured IV

Alexia Putellas x Child!Reader

Summary: Olga has the baby

Mami and Olga get pregnant a few months after your discussion. Olga moves in full time too and you get to be very helpful and do things like give her food or cuddle her on the sofa.

She gets very round very quickly and that confuses you until Mami points out it's because Olga's growing your baby brother or sister. Olga cries a lot too and everyone blames that on hormones but can't actually really give you an explanation about what hormones are so you're not entirely sure why but giving her cuddles and kisses seems to make her not cry as much so you do that.

Soon enough though, the crying stops and she can move around properly again because she's had your baby brother.

He's kind of ugly, you think when you first see him. He's all red and wrinkly and he cries all the time. Sometimes you wake up in the middle of the night because he's crying and look through the gap between your door and the frame to see Mami and Olga get up to soothe him.

He's named after Abuelo, who you've never met because he died before you were born. Baby Jaume is alright sometimes when he's quiet and when he first came home, Mami took a lot of pictures of your holding him and put most of them up in the house somewhere.

Jaume was fun to have at the start. He did silly things like not being able to hold up his head or puke all down Tia Alba's back when they first met.

Now though, the allure of Jaume has dimmed a little.

He's just there now, just another person in your life that you didn't quite understand.

"There he is," Mami coos as soon as she comes in the door, arms already out to pick up the baby.

Something icky makes your tummy hurt when she picks him and completely bypasses you on her way to the kitchen where Olga's cleaning up from lunch.

You hadn't eaten much, just a few bites of your sandwich, but Jaume had spit up some of his milk again so Olga was washing everything again.

You wait a little bit for Mami to notice her mistake, to notice you, but she doesn't. You can hear her laughing in the kitchen with Olga and Jaume.

You look back at your trains, dropping them as you wedge yourself under the coffee table.

Maybe when Mami can't find you anywhere, she'll notice you again.

The carpet is a little rough under your cheek but you're determined to stay where you are so Mami can find you like she did when you were much littler.

She never does though because you lay there for a long while.

Jaume is crying again. You can hear him and that makes you not want to leave your hidey hole either. Everyone goes to Jaume if he cries even if Mami is already holding him.

He cries and he cries and he cries and you cry too, hidden under the table as you wait for Mami to come find you.

You wished that she wanted to see you as much as she wanted to see Jaume. She's always smiling at him and giving him kisses and cuddles.

You get your bedtime kiss at the end of the day but that's it. Mami's busy at work and Olga's busy with Jaume and you wish you weren't here anymore.

You sniffle, more tears rolling down your cheeks even as Jaume's stop.

Mami and Olga are talking at him, you can hear them. They talk to Jaume a lot even though he can't talk back. You wished they'd talk to you more.

Sometimes, if Jaume is very good, Mami will sit with you and read you a bedtime story. If Jaume isn't very good, she sends you to bed without one because it's more important that Jaume learns to be good instead of reading you your bedtime story.

Like today.

You know you won't get a bedtime story today because all Jaume seems to do is cry.

You don't see Mami much the day after too. She goes to training before you wake up and you spend most of the day at nursery so you don't see her when she comes home for lunch too.

You don't go to nursery a lot, especially not now that Jaume is born but you go often enough that Mami and Olga shouldn't forget you.

But they do.

You sit in the office, fighting back tears as the woman hurriedly goes through everyone in your contact book. Mami and Olga have never been late to pick you up before.

You clutch a picture in your hand. You did painting today and you did one of you and Mami and Olga and baby Jaume. You want to show Mami and Olga and put it up on the fridge when you get home but the sky is getting darker and you're still waiting for someone to collect you.

Your bottom lip wobbles and you start to cry.

You're good at crying quietly now. One time you started to cry loudly at the same time as Jaume and Mami yelled at you. She apologised afterwards, saying that she was stressed and sorry but you haven't cried loudly since.

You're still crying when the door opens.

You wish it was Mami or even Miss Olga but it's not.

Tia Alba pulls you into a hug.

"We couldn't get in contact with Alexia or Olga," The reception woman says solemnly.

"Right, yes," Tia Alba says, shaking her head," I don't know. I'm sorry. I'm sure there was just a miscommunication. I'll sort it out."

Tia Alba drives you home but it's dark.

There's no Mami or Miss Olga waiting for you.

"I...I drew a picture," You say softly, holding it up for Tia Alba to see," The teacher said to draw a picture of our families, so I did."

"It's beautiful, bambi," Tia Alba assures you," Very pretty. Shall we put it on the fridge?"

The fridge is different now. It used to be full of a lot of your paintings but it's mostly bare now. There's a big picture of Miss Olga and Mami at the very centre with baby Jaume a few hours after he was born.

Tia Alba hands you a magnet and you put your picture on the side of the fridge, away from the picture.

"When is my Mami coming home?" You ask.

"Soon," Tia Alba says though she glances uncertainly at the door," Hey, how about we play with your new trains?"

You shake your head. "I don't have new trains."

"What? Of course you do! Your Mami gets you a new train every week!"

You shake your head again. "Mami's busy now. I've got my old trains. Are we still allowed to play even if it's with my old ones?"

"Of course, bambi. Why don't you set up the track?"

You do so gladly and wait for Tia Alba as she speaks quickly into the phone. She turns on the tv for background noise as you both play a train game, loading and unloading resources into the back and making them zoom across the track.

There's a Barcelona match playing.

Mami plays for Barcelona. It's the very end and the team is celebrating, holding up a trophy and cheering. Mami's got the trophy in one hand and baby Jaume in the other.

"Mami isn't coming home soon," You say plainly, staring at the tv as someone takes a picture of Jaume sitting in the cup.

"Bambi-"

You look back at your trains. "I...I don't want my painting up on the fridge anymore."

"Are you sure, bambi? I'm sure your Mami will be very happy to see it there."

Mami is on the screen again, smiling with Miss Olga and baby Jaume.

"I don't want the picture anymore," You say, getting up and pushing away your trains," You should put it in the bin, Tia."

"Are you sure?" Tia Alba takes it down from the fridge and gives it to you. "But it's so pretty."

You rip it straight down the middle. "It's not real." You shut yourself in your room, pushing as many of your things behind it so Alba can't get in.

She can't get you to come out either, no matter what she promises or how much she begs. She had been getting ready for a night out with her friends when she'd got the call from your nursery teacher saying that no one had come to pick you up.

She had assumed that Alexia and Olga were running late until there had been an update on the Barcelona Instagram proclaiming that the team were meeting their youngest teammate.

You'd been withdrawn the moment she saw you. The most excited you got was when showing her your drawing and even calling that excitement was pushing it.

You'd been on the verge of shutting down for a while now but Alba can't even get into the room you've barricaded and it's all so much worse.

"Alba?" Alexia says in amusement," Why are you sitting on the floor?"

It's been hours since you originally hidden yourself away in your room. You've put yourself to bed with no bath and no dinner and Alba just sees red.

The last time she put hands on Alexia was when they were kids and Alexia had thrown her favourite playdoh colour over the fence. She could probably count the days it's been since an actual physical fight but the counter goes back down to zero the moment she shoves Alexia against the wall.

"You selfish fuck!" She says," God, I thought you were better than this!"

"Hey! Get off! What the hell?! I haven't done anything!"

"Exactly! You haven't done anything! I hope you're happy! I hope showing off your son and winning trophies is worth it!"

"Alba, what are you going on about? Are you drunk? Get off!"

"Because you're never seeing that little girl again!"

Alexia freezes like someone's just injected ice into her veins. She looks around Alba's head. Your bedroom is door shut.

"What are you talking about? Bambi? You can't take Bambi!"

"Oh, so you do know who she is? I'd say better late than never but I don't think it really applies!"

Alexia's confused. "What's going on? What's wrong with Bambi?"

"God." Alba bursts into uncontrollable laughter. "Have you always been this stupid? What's wrong with Bambi? How about you ask where Bambi was all day? Where was Bambi while you were showing Jaume off to your team and winning another stupid medal?"

Alexia thinks it over for a moment. "Oh."

"Oh," Alba mocks, face twisting up into a sneer as she shoves Alexia back into the wall again," She drew you a picture today, you know. You and her and Olga and Jaume."

"I..."

"Don't bother trying to look for it. She says that it's a lie and I can see why."

"Get off!" Alexia shoves her back, going to turn your door handle but it just won't open. She swears. She'd taught you how to put your chair under the handle in case an intruder ever broke in and how to push all of your belongings up against it in case the chair ever fell.

She knocks on the door.

"Bambi? Bambi, baby, open the door."

There's no answer and she knocks louder.

"Bambi! Come on. Open the door for Mami. I'm...I'm really excited to see your picture. Why don't we put it on the fridge, huh? Wouldn't that be fun?"

There's still nothing and Alexia feels herself grow a bit more desperate when Olga comes around the corner with Jaume.

"What's going on?" She asks.

Alexia can't answer as she slams her fist against your door, rattling the door handle.

"I'll be back tomorrow at midday," Alba says to Olga," Make sure she's got overnight clothes packed."

Alexia can't even hear her, desperate to force the door open.

"Bambi, please!"

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

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yandere-fetish · 6 days

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I can't help but think of...

A Foreign Yandere that's transferred schools, to your school, only to kidnap you for his dark desires.

A Foreign Yandere that takes you back to his country after deciding you're his darling.

A Foreign Yandere that has a family encouraging him to wed you then impregnate you right away.

A Foreign Yandere that shushes you to sleep while wiping your tears away. He always whispers sweet nothings into your ear.

A Foreign Yandere that makes sweet love to you when you're a good girl and treats you like trash when you try to escape.

A Foreign Yandere that keeps abusing your pretty pussy with his fingers in the mornings.

A Foreign Yandere that smiles at your adorable confused face when his family and himself speak in their mother tongue. He can't help but want to place you on his lap and feed you.

A Foreign Yandere that keeps you by his side constantly, and when you're not, he has his dogs watching you.

A Foreign Yandere that has three beaucerons or dobermans he's been training to trail his beloved wife and uses your clothes to have them identify you as said wife.

A Foreign Yandere that ends up having to physically remove his own dogs from his own bed to sleep next to his own wife. He's all ready been working all day, and now he has more hard labor to do?! Oh, you better be ready to give him something in return!

A Foreign Yandere that eats you while you sleep, listening to the cute moans that send pleasurable tingles down his spine.

A Foreign Yandere that comes home one day and discovers you getting along with his mother and sisters.

A Foreign Yandere that can't wait to spoil you senseless once knowing you won't run away from him.

A Foreign Yandere that buys you everything you never needed and then some. He even splurges when buying food.

A Foreign Yandere that is very possessive. So much so, it takes your hand on his thigh and a sincere promise of spending quality time in the hot tub to quell his anger.

A Foreign Yandere that reinforces your promise and has you skinny dip instead.

A Foreign Yandere that refuses to stop fucking you, even when his older siblings walk by.

A Foreign Yandere that doesn't take no for an answer when it comes to your pleasure.

A Foreign Yandere that likes watching you play with his nieces and nephews.

A Foreign Yandere that's waiting to see you glow from pregnancy and to see you hold his child in your arms.

A Foreign Yandere that would spoil you and his child silly. He wouldn't just let you have all the fun with your newborn.

A Foreign Yandere that makes a great son, brother, uncle, husband and now father since you and your child have been added to the family.

A Foreign Yandere that smirks in satisfaction when you walk down the aisle, pregnant again, on your wedding day. He just can't take his eyes off you! And how could he when he has you as his beautiful bride and the wonderful mother of his children?

A Foreign Yandere that knows you won't try escaping him any longer when you've had his children and became his wife.

A Foreign Yandere that whispers his dream of having a house full of children that only his lovely little foreign wife can give him.

*sigh*

I just can't stop daydreaming about a Foreign Yandere.

#yandere #yandere smut #yandere x female reader #male yandere #obsessive love #obsessive yandere #yandere imagines #yandere aesthetic #yandere x darling #yandere male #foreign yandere

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agentmarvel · 7 months

Note

Can we have headcanons of fem!reader wife x 141 guys and how they each handle her leaving for girl’s night out in a really skimpy dress?

I think they’d all have hilarious reactions.😂

Omg yesssss

NSFW under the cut

MDNI - 18+

♡ Price:

Oh lord, that man is NOT letting you out of the house.

"Where ya think you're going in that?"

gets a little pissy when you remind him you have one girls night a month, and you have every right to wear whatever you want

"Doesn't mean you have the right to show anyone else what's mine, love."

will physically block the door with his whole body, knowing you won't be able to move him unless he allows it

he isn't mad - no, quite the opposite! it's taking every ounce of his self-restraint not to rip that damn thing in half and have his way with you right there on the foyer floor

"John, move. I don't want to be late!" - "Shame... You should've thought about that before you put on something you know damn well I can't resist."

he thinks it's cute when you argue with him, but you both know this ends up with your front pressed up against the door, panties pulled to the side, and his cock buried to the hilt inside you

after he cums, he pulls your panties back into place and gives you a harsh swat on the ass, not caring that your make up is a little smudged or that your legs are jello while he's giving you that smug look he wears so well

"Enjoy your night out, Mrs. Price. Hurry home."

♡ Gaz:

he's on you before you even walk out of the bathroom after you finish your hair

wraps his arms around your waist, puts his chin on your shoulder, tells you how pretty you look

"This dress new? Haven't seen it on the floor before."

ohhhhh, he is so down bad for you, even after as long as you've been together

makes it a point to grab a quick selfie bc he knows it's a solid confidence booster, and he wants you to feel as beautiful as you look

it doesn't really cross his mind that anyone would try anything on you - you're perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, and he knows who you'll come home to; he knows who's bed you'll be in tonight, who's name you'll be calling in the dark

he even helps you pick the right shoes, even though you know he picks his favorite pair in hopes of seeing you in just those when you get home

ever the gentleman, he walks you out to your car, reminds you to drive safe, call him if you have too much to drink, etc.

he does, however, make it a point to send you some downright raunchy texts and a photo of his more... physical reaction, just in case you needed some motivation to come home a little early

when you get home (early), he's still riled up; he's too impatient to wait for you to make it upstairs, much less to unzip your dress for you, so you end up riding him on the landing until he's too tongue-tied to keep telling you how hot you look

♡ Soap:

you're not making it out of the house. Period.

the SECOND Johnny lays eyes on you, it's over

he's grabby as hell, digging his fingers into any part of you that he can - squeezing your ass, your hips, your thighs, tits, tummy, anything - while he navigates you to the nearest surface

"Yer so fuckin' pretty, baby. Never seen something so fuckin' perfect in my god damn life."

it doesn't matter if you end up on the couch, the kitchen counter, in the back yard; he's eating your pussy like a death row prisoner's last meal until you're crying, trying to wrench his head away with the hair tangled in your fist

he has your dress bunched up around your waist, straps pulled down so he can play with your nipples, but uses the whole garment as leverage while he fucks you stupid

you should've known better than to put a t-bone in front of a starving dog and expect it not to bite

"Go ahead, bonnie; text your little friends, tell them you're not gonna make it, yeah?"

♡ Ghost:

"'course, love. Have fun, be careful, call me if you need a ride."

Simon isn't too worried initially; he knows there isn't going to be a single soul in that bar willing or able to face his wrath should anything untoward happen. but then he actually sees what you're wearing, and all bets are off

that's why he follows you, he tells himself, it has nothing to do with the insatiable urge to destroy your ability to walk tomorrow

nothing trumps your safety, in terms of his priorities. he's simply here to look out for his wife, right?

wrong. he spends the next hour and a half watching you from a darkened corner of the bar while his palms itch with a need to touch

opportunity knocks when you excuse yourself from the table, and he follows you into the restroom, slipping in before you have a chance to lock the door

you're not surprised to see him (duh, you know him better than just about anyone), but you are surprised to find yourself bent over the sink, looking Simon in the eye through his reflection. he's fucking you mercilessly, spewing absolute filth while he pulls your head back by your hair

"My perfect little whore, hmm? Waltzing around in that tiny dress, wearing my fuckin' ring, rubbin' it in everyone's faces that you only open those pretty legs for me."

he wants to cum on your face, but you pout about the possibility of it getting in your eye, or worse, on your dress, so he settles for letting you swallow it instead

his impulses return not much longer after you return to your table; instead, he texts you that he's ready to head out, and you are all too quick to oblige

#john price x reader #john price x you #john price imagine #john price headcanons #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x you #kyle gaz garrick imagine #kyle gaz garrick headcanons #johnny soap mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish x you #johnny soap mactavish imagine #johnny soap mactavish headcanons #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley imagine #simon ghost riley headcanons #jj writes

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crystallilytarot · 3 months

Text

MDNI

Choose a kitchen storage thing. Your first night with your future partner

Pile 1 - cotton candy

It feels like it will be a big thing for you. You imagined this a lot, you dreamed about this a lot. And I think your partner will be the same too. Your partner is more experienced, they know what they are doing, know how to do it. Confident, charming, a little flirty even. But they are also caring and they will be gentle. A very protective energy, they want to make your wishes come true. This first night won't be very kinky, but it's passionate, you both will be tired. At least 2 round, maybe one in the evening and another in the morning too. They are so attracted to your body, but at the same time, they find you adorable. I think you are a little younger or maybe smaller too, and they will find you very cute. Strong masculine and big dick energy from them. They have good stamina and they don't stop until you are satisfied too. A lot of cuddles, gentle kisses too, a loving, sweet aftercare. They will prepare everything, water, a little snack after, and they will take care about protection too. Sweet talk after, sweet nicknames, for some of you, they will confess their feeling too.

Pile 2 - ice cream

It feels a little more random. There's a dinner or party with friends or family. Or maybe you are in a concert. You are in a fun date together, having a good time, probably one or two drinks too. And it suddenly became very passionate. I don't think this was your plan that night, but it will be very good. You are both just so turned on, it will be a quickie first probably. But I think it will be more rounds, honestly it feels like you spend the whole night together cuddling, kissing, making love, and repeat. A mix between playful and rough sessions. One moment you laugh together, a little teasing, but after it became very passionate. Your sexual chemistry is very strong. I think you already had a few dates together, so it's not like you are just messing around. At least you were friends before. You are attracted to each other, but before this night it was a little more innocent. One person is a little more dominant, I think it's your future partner, and it's possible that there will be a little dom-sub thing here. Nothing extreme, since it's your first night, but maybe like they give some orders to you. But you will like it. They seems very powerful, a good lover, confident and know how to make you cum. Powerful thrusts too. I don't think you will talk a lot that night, because you will be very tired! So it's very passionate, hot. But pay attention to use protection! They will want your body so much, you will be fully naked, while they have all their clothes on. In the beginning, because they can't wait, but after of course, you will both be naked. You won't even sleep until sunrise.

Pile 3 - pancakes

It's a little complicated, because I think one of you or maybe both of you wanted to wait a little longer. One of you can be a little more conservative. I think you will still want to do something, because of the strong sexual attraction. Just a kissing session, just making out. But you just can't help it, it will happen that night. Maybe at first you will feel a little regretful, but it will be so good, you also want to do it again. For some of you, maybe you are not confident or not comfortable being naked. But it will change. Your partner will find you so sexy, you will be more confident than ever. A lot of juices, wetness and probably multiple orgasm. For some of you, it will begin in the car, after a date, and you will go back to the house, planning to just kissing a little longer. I think your partner is a little older or have more experience. They are very responsible and they would stop, if you want to. But you don't want to, and actually they will be very happy that you don't want to stop, because they want you so much like nothing else and nobody else in the world. It's like the whole world stops and you are both completely in the moment, just wanting to feel each other's body. I think you will talk about it after, not that night, maybe the morning after. You both will be a little scared, that the other regretted it or not, but actually you both want to do it again and you both will know that you are so good together, there's nothing wrong with loving each other's body too, not just each other's personality, you know. You are a very good match as a couple.

#18+ tarot #free tarot #pick a card #tarot #pick a pile

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leclercings · 14 days

Text

Meeting the Sainzs | Carlos Sainz x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x girlfriend!Reader

A/N: I tweaked it a little bit, but this was really fun to write.

You stand in front of your boyfriend's house. A little bit excited, but mostly daunted.

Your boyfriend, Carlos Sainz is an F1 driver from Spain.

You think about the time you first met. You were an F1 journalist for your magazine and when you interviewed him for the first time, sparks flew. After that, you both were inseparable.

But his family doesn't think so. You've met them in bits and pieces- just shy hellos and goodbyes, and they've always judged you.

Or so you think.

This is the first time officially that they've invited you for dinner. And that is why, you are daunted.

You don't want to mess it up, you don't want to sound stupid and definitely don't want to sound like a golddigger.

Of course you can't tell this to Carlos. He offered to pick you up but you refused- saying you could drive from the hotel to his house. You ended up getting lost on the way and being an hour late, for which you've apologized profusely and brought some wine on the way as a thank you.

You take a deep breath in.

You got this.

You ring the bell, and wait. You can feel the sweat trickle down your makeup laden face, it's so hot and also you're super nervous.

The door opens to reveal Carlos.

“Y/N! You made it.” He gives you a peck on the lips.

He walks you inside to the dining area, where everyone is sitting, waiting for you.

There's his dad, mom, both his sisters, their husbands and his cousin along with his wife.

You wave a shy hi.

“Hello, dear,” his dad comes up and hugs you. His dad really adores you, because he's seen you taking interviews.

His mom, and sisters, not so much. They wave a polite hello and go back to their own world.

You feel a little hurt. Carlos doesn't see it, or if he does, he pretends to ignore it.

“Come sit with us,” his cousin Carlos, tells you.

“How're you finding Madrid so far?” He asks you.

“Great,” you reply.

“Mi amor, here's some wine for you.”

You take the glass from Carlos gratefully.

“Everyone, let's have dinner,” his mother says.

You all line up in front of the table.

Everyone lines up at their seat and you're confused as to where to sit. There are two chairs empty but they're not next to each other. You stand there awkwardly as Reyes, his mother, goes to the kitchen.

“¿Por qué incluso la ha invitado?” His sister, Ana whispers. But she's standing so close to you and you hear it.

What they don't know is that you know a little bit of Spanish.

“Chicas, no sean tan groseras.” Carlos replies back as he sees your expression.

He whispers something in his cousin's ear and his cousin empties the seat next to Carlos.

“Let's sit, mi amor.” Carlos gestures you and you follow his movement.

Blanca rolls her eyes. Reyes comes back from the kitchen and looks at you, sighing.

Dinner is lively. You're mostly talking to Carlos and his cousin's wife, and sometimes Carlos’s dad pitches in.

Suddenly Carlos starts coughing.

“Carlos, honey, are you okay?”

He nods.

“I'll get you some water,” you hurriedly get up and go to the kitchen to get some water. Reyes follows you.

“You didn't have to get up, love,” she says, as you're standing in the kitchen trying to figure out where the cold water is. Reyes opens the fridge and motions you to follow her.

Her expression is soft, almost apologetic.

You give the water to Carlos who mumbles a quiet ‘thanks’.

“So tell me, Y/N,” Ana, his sister, pauses, and takes a sip of her wine, “how did you meet Carlos?”

Both of you smile. You stare at each other and you nod at Carlos to take the lead.

His dad and cousin are smiling too. They've heard this story a million times.

“So, Y/N, had to interview me at the hotel, but as always, she couldn't figure out which room to go into so she ended up somewhere else and I was somewhere else.”

You laugh.

“He waited around 15 minutes for me and I rushed in, frantically apologizing for being late.” You continue.

“I was smitten the moment I met her, it didn't matter whether she was late or not.”

Carlos puts his arm around you and kisses you. You blush a little.

“She's been my support through and through,” Carlos continues.

You remember the time when you had been with him during the surgery. Taking out time from your job was a little tough, but you made sure to be there for him whenever time allowed.

“And you've been mine,” you respond back, smiling.

Anybody can see how much you both love each other.

Dinner ends. You're helping to clean up. Ana, Blanca, Reyes and you work in the kitchen silently.

“Thank you for inviting me,” you say, breaking the silence while handing Reyes the plates as she puts them in the dishwasher.

“You're welcome, sweetie.” She replies.

“So tell me, Y/N, how's your job going?”

“Amazing. I love travelling, the interaction, and of course, spending time with Carlos. My job is too demanding, but worth it.”

The way you speak about Carlos, the way you say his name with so much love and compassion- both his sisters can see it.

They smile at you.

“We're glad you're here,” Ana speaks up.

You frown, remembering her initial statement but you've decided to forgive her. She's just being protective of her brother, that's all.

“I'm glad too,” you smile at her.

Meeting a significant other's family is quite challenging, especially when it's someone famous. You're not sure what is there in store for you but you're happy that Carlos is by your side- and hopefully his family too.

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libraryofgage · 9 months

Text

Decided to combine 4 and 12 of the prompt list! Something about these two prompts was giving me major Addams Family vibes, so I rolled with it lol

If there are any other prompts you want to see written, lemme know!

4. “You know I’d do anything to have you stay by my side, right? Anything.”

12. “I’m going to have so much fun with you.”

Wherein the Munsons are branches on the Addams Family tree, and Steve finds himself the object of Eddie Munson's flirtations and devotion.

---

When the Munsons move in next door, Steve sits his brother down in the living room and says, "Don't bother them, Dustin. Wait, like, three days before asking for their life stories."

Dustin looks offended, to say the least. "I wasn't gonna ask for their life stories, Steve. I was gonna ask where they got all the bats and birds that hang out on their roof."

Honestly, Steve would love the answer to that, too, but that seems to be encroaching on the "life story" territory, considering the sheer number of flying creatures the Munsons brought with them. He'd been outside getting the mail when the Munson kids, a boy his own age and a girl Dustin's age, had opened a tiny cat carrier, and a veritable storm of black wings and feathers and screeching had somehow come streaming out of it.

The girl was watching them with a smile, and the boy turned around like he'd felt Steve staring. Their gazes met, and Steve's awkward wave was returned with the boy's eyes raking over him before winking with a grin.

"Look, ju-"

Steve's words are cut off by a banging on the door, the person knocking out a beat that he can't follow. He shoots Dustin a look to stay put before he opens the door to find the Munson boy on the other side. He's got that same playful grin and a plate of pitch-black...something in his hands.

"Uh, hi?"

Somehow, the boy's grin gets wider, and he shoves the plate into Steve's hands. "Heeeellooo, big boy," he says, his voice almost lowering into a purr that makes heat flood Steve's cheeks. "Wayne wanted me to drop off some of his famous arsenic and chocolate chip cookies. You know, since we're neighbors and all."

"Wayne? Arsenic?" Steve mumbles, looking down at the cookies warily.

"Our uncle," the boy says, leaning on the doorway and crossing his arms as he looks Steve up and down again. "Don't worry, it won't kill you. Yet. That's a friend of the family privilege, at least, and you just ain't there yet."

It must be a joke, and Steve lets out a strained laugh. He balances the plate in one hand and holds his other one out. "Right, well, uh, nice to meet you. I'm Steve. You'll probably meet my brother, Dustin, later."

The boy takes his hand, but instead of shaking it, he brings it up to his lips. Then he turns Steve's hand over, brushing his lips across the meat of his palm before nipping. Steve jerks, yanking his hand back and holding it close to his chest, his heart beating erratically as the boy says, "I'm Eddie, my sister's name is El, and I'm going to have so much fun with you, Stevie."

And with that, Eddie turns on his heel and saunters back to the Munson home, which had been painted pitch-black (just like the cookies) at some point. Steve doesn't move from the open door, feeling a faint tingling in his palm, until he hears Dustin shout that he's going to let all the cold air out.

The arsenic and chocolate chip cookies had not, in fact, killed either of them. And, despite their burnt-to-coal appearance, they were soft and chewy. It had immediately put the Munsons in Dustin's good graces, which he happily proclaimed while Steve's head and heart were still reeling from Eddie's introduction.

In the following weeks, Eddie kept popping up whenever Steve left the house. He never overstepped, though. He'd appear at a distance, wait for Steve to wave or say hi, and then approach with that big grin with canine teeth that looked a little sharper than they should. Sometimes he'd offer more baked goods from Wayne (always with some schtick to them: eye of newt brownies, hag's breath toffee, cyanide and cherry pie). On one notable occasion, he'd offered a baseball bat with nails stuck through the end.

"El let out a demodog the other day, so you probably ought to be careful. I'd hate for you to get hurt by something that wasn't me," Eddie had said as Steve confusedly took the bat.

He blinked when he had processed the words and looked up. "You would hurt me?" Steve asked.

Eddie had leaned close, his ringed fingers ghosting over Steve's side and inching closer to his waist, and whispered, "It wouldn't just hurt, Stevie." His words had sent a shiver down Steve's spine, his mouth suddenly dry as Eddie pulled away.

And their interactions had escalated from there. With every meeting, Eddie strayed closer, lingered longer, spoke softer, and Steve couldn't escape the growing devotion and fascination in his eyes. At some point, Steve knew, things were bound to boil over.

So, he definitely wasn't surprised when they did at the neighborhood's annual Fourth of July cookout. Eddie had waited until El and Dustin were distracted by their other friends, checked to make sure Wayne was sufficiently busy with helping at the grill, and then kidnapped Steve to a hidden corner of the Byers's yard.

Which brings Steve to the present, the Byers's house casting a long shadow over him and Eddie so nobody notices them. The sound of other kids screeching with delight and parents discussing summer camps fades when Eddie leans in closer.

"You know I'd do anything to have you stay by my side, right? Anything?" Eddie asks, tilting Steve's chin up as he crowds him against the wall.

Steve presses back against the cool brick, silently holding Eddie's gaze. There's a stark seriousness to his words, and Steve can't help his curiosity about just what anything encompasses. "Would you kill for me?" he asks, his voice soft.

Eddie practically lights up, a feral grin pulling at his lips. "Gladly, sweetheart," he purrs.

"Would you die for me?"

"I'd tear out my heart and present it on a fucking silver platter for you. In fact, I can do it right now, if you'd like." A knife appears in his hand from seemingly nowhere, and Eddie brings it to his own chest only for Steve to stop him by grabbing his wrist.

"Then, what about living for me?" Steve asks, carefully taking the knife from Eddie and smoothly returning it to the holder tucked into his jeans.

Eddie leans in until their noses brush, his hand cupping Steve's jaw. "I wouldn't even dream of dying without your permission, Stevie," he whispers.

And Steve would fucking love to meet the person who could withstand Eddie Munson's attention and flirting and gifts and care and sheer devotion without falling head-over-heels for him. Steve would want to put that person in a jar, study them, see if their indifference is something he could mass produce. He's sure Eddie would be thrilled to help him do it, too.

"I have one request," Steve whispers back, reaching up and pushing his hand into Eddie's hair, warmth rushing through him when Eddie leans into the touch.

"Anything. Say the word, and I wouldn't hesitate to crawl through hot coals and broken glass." Steve has zero doubts Eddie would; in fact, he knows Eddie would be ecstatic to do it, if only for the chance to make Steve smile.

"I want one of the bats. And Dustin wants a demodog, but you better make sure it doesn't hurt him, or I'll make you listen to bubblegum pop and watch a Disney marathon."

Steve can feel the shudder that goes through Eddie, his eyes revealing a mix of horror, pride, and love at Steve's words. "You, Stevie, have perfected the art of making threats. Consider your two requests granted and me sufficiently...threatened," Eddie breathes, somehow managing to press even closer.

And Steve can't make either of them wait a second longer. With a grin that can easily rival Eddie's, Steve kisses him and begins to think of names for his bat.

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie fluff #steve harrington #eddie munson #dustin henderson #addams family #stranger things #i just love the addams family so much #one of my favorite aus to make actually #the way they love is so pure and unapologetically genuine #even if it's different from the norm of love and courtship #that makes it even more romantic #my writing

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obaex · 9 months

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the three times duke tried to tell you something - rafe cameron

summary: rafe's dog duke starts acting differently towards you, clearly trying to tell you something that you and rafe can't seem to figure out on your own.

word count: 1.2k

a/n: short, fluffy and sweet! forever loving soft rafe ♡

The first time, Rafe noticed before you did.

It wasn't unusual for Rafe's eyes to follow you as you walked through the house, drinking you in as you wandered past him to the kitchen or back to bedroom or onto the back porch as he tried to focus on his work, fingers itching to pull you into him and toss his laptop to the side. What was unusual was his dog, Duke, following you everywhere you went.

He couldn't put a finger on when it started, but suddenly it was like you had a second shadow, Duke following your every move, his eyes trained on you or sitting patiently at your feet whenever you were stationary.

You didn't notice until you were coming out of the shower and nearly stepped on him as he sat, waiting for you just outside the shower door. "Oh! Geez, Duke! You scared the heck out of me" you said, leaning down to pat his head, much to his enjoyment.

"Hey, have you noticed that Duke has been following me around?" you asked Rafe. As if for emphasis, Duke exhaled loudly where he sat nearly on top of your feet as he looked up at you with his puppy dog eyes.

Rafe smiled and leaned over to look at his dog, "You lookin' after our girl, Duke?" Duke licked his hand in response.

The second time, Rafe was on the mainland for the day and you were walking to get the mail, Duke firmly by your side, when your neighbor who was jogging stopped to talk to you. "Hey, Y/N! Good to see you! Having a good summer?" he asked.

He tended to be a little flirtatious so you tried to keep your answers curt and casual, but before you could answer Duke growled at him. You looked down in shock to see his teeth bared, his eyes fixed on your neighbor. He normally had such a sweet and loving disposition, you couldn't remember him ever being aggressive. You were almost embarrassed as you whispered "Duke!" in surprise. He looked up at you innocently before returning a narrowed gaze to your neighbor who was edging away from you both before he took off running again.

"Duke growled at Sean today when he stopped to talk to me" you told Rafe later that night. "I swear, Rafe, something has gotten into him, I've never seen him act like that before."

"Is Sean that guy that's always hitting on you?"

"Rafe..."

"Good boy, buddy!" he said, leaning down to scratch Duke behind his ears and getting a bark in response before Rafe pressed a kiss to your cheek.

It was all fun and games for Rafe until later that week the two of you were in the kitchen making dinner and listening to music. Rafe pulled you into his arms to dance with you. He nuzzled into your neck, pressing soft kisses there and tracing them up your jaw to land on your lips, catching your smile with his own. He kissed you softly and slowly as his hands traced down your waist, and then he began to tickle you, eliciting a squeal and a giggle from you as you tried to wiggle out of his grasp. Duke was on his feet and barking immediately, nudging himself between you and Rafe, and nipping at Rafe's ankles, finally causing him to drop his arms.

"Duke! Buddy! It's okay!" he said, putting his hands up in front of him in surrender as Duke stood protectively in front of you.

Rafe looked up at you, "Okay, maybe I'm starting to see what you're talking about..." he trailed off, looking down at his dog "...and I thought I was protective, what's gotten into you, huh?" Duke looked from Rafe to you and back again and barked once like he was trying to say something, both of you looking at each other in confusion.

That weekend you were curled up on the couch watching a movie, snuggled in Rafe's arms. Duke had been lying on the floor at your feet when he propped his head over the side of the couch and onto your lap.

"Hey, good boy" you whispered, running your hand over his head absentmindedly before returning your attention to the movie. He didn't give up. He nudged his cold, wet nose into your hand, into your lap, nuzzling you further and further.

"Okay, okay" you said, thinking he wanted more pets, and giving him more attention. But he was unrelenting, his entire head now resting in your lap. "Rafe, look at this. He's never this cuddly" you said as Duke came to rest his head nearly on top of your torso at this point, where he finally sat still, eyes looking up at you intently as you continued to pet him, now with your full attention.

"What is it, buddy?" you asked.

He nuzzled into your torso one more time for effect.

And that's when the lightbulb went off in your head.

"Oh my god" you said, suddenly.

"What is it?" Rafe asked, pausing the movie and sitting up quickly at your tone.

"Oh my god" you said again, popping off the couch as you ran down the hallway, Duke hot on your heels.

"Sweetheart? Sweetheart! What's wrong?" Rafe said as he got up to follow you both.

You had shut yourself in the bathroom and Rafe began knocking frantically on the door. "Sweetheart, what's wrong?"

Silence.

"Babe, you're freaking me out. Are you okay? Please just tell me you're okay?"

"H-Hold on" you said, your voice shaking.

Rafe jiggled the doorknob, his heart in his throat. "Babe, please don't make me break this door down."

You didn't respond and Rafe let his forehead fall against the door, eyes resting on the dog sitting next to him who was pawing the door helplessly.

The minutes ticked away before, quietly, the lock clicked and you swung the door open. You had tears in your eyes and Rafe immediately cupped your face in his hands. "Babygirl, what is it, what's wrong?"

You moved to hold up your hand that held a small plastic stick with a digital window reading one word that sent Rafe's heart into a maddening flutter: Pregnant.

"What?" Rafe whispered in disbelief as he took the stick from your hand.

"Babe, are you sure? Are you absolutely sure?" he said, a smile already breaking across his face. You gestured behind you at two other sticks on the counter, nodding and smiling as tears rolled down your face.

"You're having our baby?" he asked breathlessly, "I'm gonna be a dad?" The realization crashed over him as tears welled in his own eyes and you nodded vigorously.

"We're gonna have a baby!" he said, scooping you into his arms as he peppered kisses relentlessly on your cheek and forehead, finally finding your lips and searing them with a kiss that was so sincere and soft, overwhelmed with emotion.

You could feel him breathing heavily against you as you laughed and cried together, the moment broken only by Duke barking at your feet, jumping up, wanting to be a part of the action.

taglist: @surftrips, @ietss, @gillybear17, @palmwinemami, @sweetestdesire, @softcoremaybank, @diary-of-jj, @m-indkiller

#obx rafe cameron #rafe cameron #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe fanfiction #rafe imagine #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe x you #rafe x reader #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron outer banks #obx fanfiction

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mangocustard16 · 1 month

Text

FIRST DATE (VERNON'S VERSION)

genre: fluff, headcanon warnings: first date nerves, kiss(cheek) wc: 400 a/n: thank you anon! please reblog if you enjoyed, feedback is always appreciated

first of all, he was nervous about asking you out. it was probably months of pining over you, planning things out, and just waiting for the perfect opportunity to ask

when he finally did, it was more like, "Hey...would...date...with...me"

picks you up from your house, with flowers, and opens the door for you so politely that you almost get the impression that he's acting strange

the two of you would probably go and see a movie for your first date and grab some popcorn before the movie starts

after finishing your popcorn before the movie even starts, you'll have to run back to buy some more

vernon doesn't pay you much attention he is way too absorbed in the movie for his own good

if you go to the bathroom during the interval, he buys you more snacks, so you can't argue or try to split the bill.

has a lot of thoughts about the movie so far so, tells you everything he's come up with

you've come to the conclusion, that this guy is a complete nerd and writes half of his reviews during intervals so he doesn't miss anything

his ears turn so red when your hands brush against his while reaching for the popcorn

suggests grabbing a bite to eat at a nearby diner

he excitedly discusses the movie's themes, character development, and any easter eggs he noticed

is very interested in your thoughts about the movie

is so flustered when you compliment him that he accidentally spills your drink, apologizing profusely and offering to pay for a replacement

the conversations with him are really deep

he prefers to really get to know you, the real you, and answers all your questions very seriously

the conversations flow so effortlessly that you don’t even realize how much time has passed until the sun starts to set

internally takes notes of everything

what you're wearing, what he's wearing, the way you almost fall out of your seat laughing

'accidentally' links his pinky with you while walking back to the car

mhmm sounds right

he's driving you back home, almost pops out a ring when you play his favorite underground artist

tells you that he had so much fun and is down for another date

doesn't expect any kisses or anything

but if you kiss him on the cheek while leaving

oh boy, he’s going to think about it all night

@kflixnet @k-films@k-labels taglist-˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅: @bangchansbae @haecien @aaniag @aaasia111 @weird-bookworm @gigification @bewoyewo if you want to be added just send me an ask ♡⸝⸝

pls reblog if you liked !!

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coldfanbou · 5 months

Text

Widow's Peak

Here comes hungry, hungry Sana. This is the end of the three-part series. It was fun to write, though there is no closure on the finding the contract end.

Length 1.8K

Sana x Mreader

You wake up moaning. Your eyes slowly open to see Sana riding you. She’s squatting over you, bouncing on your cock. “You’re finally awake, Honey,” Sana says between moans. You open and close your eyes a few times, and Sana finally comes into full focus. Cum is staining her body, running down her cheeks and splattered over her tits and stomach. “I couldn’t wait for you to wake up, so I helped myself to a nice warm meal. Maybe more than one; I hope you’re not mad.” She says before slamming herself down on you. You cum at that moment, shooting your cum into her cunt. Sana throws her head back and whines as she reaches her climax. A sickly sweet smile forms on Sana as she feels your warm cum fill her. You’re pumping enough cum into her that it begins to overflow and spill before you’ve even pulled out. Sana reaches down, her fingers gingerly collecting some of your cum before bringing it to her lips. The tip of her tongue pokes out and takes a tiny lick. Sana moans softly as she pushes two fingers into her mouth, where she sucks them clean. “It’s so good.” She says to herself. Sana slowly rises off you and places herself beside you. She reaches down and begins to stroke your softening cock. “You came so much, Honey. I feel so warm.” Sana struggles to keep her eyes open; she continues to stroke your cock until she eventually falls asleep. Even then, though, her hand remains tightly wrapped around you.

You feel absolutely drained of your energy. It takes you more effort than you’d like to admit to remove Sana’s hand from your body. You leave the room and wander around the house, looking for someplace the key you found would fit. Knowing your father, it could be anywhere; for crying out loud, he had mechanisms in his bookcase. You head back to his office, thinking about what the key could lead to. You consider the possibility that the book is a hint and press the button to launch it out of the case. You grab the book and look through it quickly, discovering nothing and thinking you wasted time. It was just some book about monsters. You’re growing frustrated that you can't do anything. You want to start throwing things around, but you know it would wake Sana. You take a few deep breaths, look around one more time, and still come up with nothing. “Come on, old man. Couldn’t you have left something to tell me what this key went to?” You look through your father’s desk, utterly lost at this point. There was nothing there that needed a key. You consider that it could be for something in the house, and it was just kept in your father's office and step head for the door.

Opening the door to the room, you’re surprised to see Sana standing outside. “What are you doing, Honey?” She asks, tilting her head to the side. “I woke up, and you weren’t there.” She says, her hand reaching for your cock.

You push her hand away. “I’m feeling pretty tired, Sana. I don’t want to have sex right now.” Sana kneels before you and manages to grab your cock despite your protest. It’s still soft as she holds it and remains so until she plants a kiss on the tip. You immediately become hard after she does that.

“It looks like someone does, though,” Sana replies now that she’s made you hard. Sana drags her tongue along the underside of your shaft, flicking the head with her tongue as she reaches the end. You can’t help but groan; you could feel Sana’s warm breath hit your cock as she licked it again. Sana gathers her saliva and spits it onto your cock; she slides her hand along your shaft, making sure it’s completely covered. She inches closer and presses your cock against her chest. Your cock still in her hand, Sana brings the tip of your cock against her hard nipple. Your breathing quickens, and you moan as Sana circles her nipple with the tip. Sana gives you a hungry look as she places your cock between her breasts. She presses them together and moves them along your shaft. Sana’s chest begins to shine from the saliva coming off you.

Despite wanting to stop her, your body moves on its own. You push Sana’s head down, forcing her eyes away from you. Now facing your cock she runs her tongue along the head; she savors the taste of your precum as it begins to leak out. You buck your hips, forcing your cock past her lips. You hear Sana giggle before she happily takes you inside. Sana’s tongue slowly swirls around the tip as she keeps her tits pressed against the sides of your shaft. You can see how tightly she has her lips wrapped around you. You begin to push further in, leaving her breasts. Sana takes you down her throat with ease; her tongue rubs against the underside of your cock before leaving her mouth. Sana’s tongue was like a snakes. Placing one hand on Sana’s head, you begin to thrust. Each thrust deposits more saliva onto her pretty face, and soon enough, it’s dripping down onto her chest. You feel a tightening in your balls and know you’re close. Sana knows it, too. She can feel your cock throbbing in her throat; the thought of getting more of your cum excites her. The young woman moves her hand to her clit. Rubbing it vigorously as she works for your cum.

You place both hands on Sana’s head as you bury your cock down her throat. Sana is giddy as she feels your cum being poured down her throat. Her fingers move faster, and she rocks her hips, hoping to cum. She gets close but not close enough as your cum runs out before she can climax. You pull out of Sana slowly, saliva dripping from your cock onto the floor. Sana’s expression is one of pure bliss, a lazy smile on her face as her mouth hangs open. You just came, but your body still wanted more, much more. You push Sana onto the floor and spread her legs. She doesn’t get a chance to say anything as you ram your cock inside her. You gave Sana the push she needed, and going over the edge, she cries out. Her body twitches as she cums, and her walls try to milk you. “More,” Sana moans as she wraps her legs around you. You can feel her push you in deeper with her feet.

You continue to thrust into Sana’s warm pussy. It almost felt like it was sucking you in. You were both sensitive as you continued. Each thrust gave you and Sana untold amounts of pleasure. Sana’s moans could fill the entire house as she cried out for more. The only time things were somewhat quiet was when she grabbed your head and pulled you into a kiss. Your tongue explored her mouth and vice versa as you pounded away at Sana’s cunt. The cum you had planted inside her earlier provided you with some lubrication, allowing you to move like a piston. You could see Sana’s tits jiggle with each thrust. “Give me more. More,” Sana moaned before kissing you again. You both knew what she meant. Your cock was throbbing like there was no tomorrow. You impale Sana with your last thrust and fill her pussy again. She came along with you, her walls squeezing down on your cock. It felt like Sana was tighter than before. Sana’s moans slowly grow quieter as she gets what she wants.

Your breathing is heavy, and you feel far more tired than ever. Your body moves on its own, though. You unwrap Sana’s legs and lift them along with your body until she’s in a mating press. “You’re going to give me more of your delicious cum, Honey?” Sana asks, even though she already knows the answer. You can’t even get a word out as you begin thrusting. Sana laughs as she feels you stir her inside with your cock. Her hands remain at your sides, her fingertips moving along your ribs as she eggs you on. Your thrusts cause your cum to come spilling out of Sana; some of it runs down her stomach and pools just under her tits. Sana begins to scoop some up and eats it in front of you as you thrust. Sana closes her eyes and revels in what’s happening. As you’re pounding away at her body, she’s tasting all the cum she could ever want. Her moans are muffled but still streaming through the house. You’re growing more and more tired with every thrust, but your body refuses to stop. You feel another orgasm coming and prepare to fill Sana again. She stops feeding on your cum and pulls you into a kiss. “Five me everything you have, Honey. I want it all.” She moans. You’re barely able to stay on top of Sana as you pierce her womb and flood it with your load. Sana has a euphoric smile on her face as she feels herself become full of cum. She had everything she needed at that moment. She was draining you of everything as a seemingly endless amount of your seed poured into her. Your energy runs out, and you collapse on top of Sana, having given her everything.

Sana is a complete mess at this point; her body is dirtier than in the morning. Her hair was ruffled and intertwined, while her body was covered in sweat and cum. Sana moves you off her as she stays lying on the floor. Your cum begins to leak out of her abused hole, making her frown. A pool starts to form around her cunt. Sana doesn’t worry about it; she has had enough for some time. She feeds herself with what you left on her body. Once Sana grows tired of lying on the floor, she stands and looks at your body. “I wish we could have spent a little more time together, Honey, but no one ever lasts that long.”

Sana takes a shower before finally returning to the rooms you shared with her. She put on a white dress, making sure she looked pure. The woman ended up finding the key and pocketing it. She heads to your father's office and presses the button on his desk, launching the book from its case. She opened it, passing through the pages until she reached the one on the succubus. Sana smiled to herself and read through the page before closing the book and preparing to leave the house. But only after making sure no one would find out what happened.

#kpop smut #male reader #m reader #twice smut #sana smut

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sanguineterrain · 10 months

Text

redamancy | steve harrington

Summary: redamancy (n.) - the act of loving someone who loves you back; a love returned in full // or, four times you kissed Steve Harrington, and one time he finally kissed you back.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings/tags: friends to lovers, 5+1 fic format, no use of y/n, FLUFF, PINING PINING, injured s4 steve, hospital setting, general vecna angst (eddie's alive bc i will never kill eddie in my fics), bed sharing, happy ending, and kissing. if that wasn't clear. :)

A/N: fun fact: this is the first time i've written a 5+1 fic! technically it's 4+1 but whatevs. if you enjoy this fic, please give it a reblog and support your local steve harrington tumblrina.

divider by firefly-graphics

i. the promise

"Would you ever get married?"

You open your eyes. The setting sun nearly blinds you through the windshield. Immediately, you stick out a hand to block it.

You're still reclined all the way back in the passenger seat, because Steve's fancy schmancy BMW can do that. He frequently lectures you about doing it while he's driving. Have I taught you nothing? Road safety!

"I mean, I guess so," you say. "If someone ever wants to put a ring on me."

You sit up and pull down the sun visor. Steve turns. His hair lightens in the summer, shades of reddish blond peeking through. He insists his hair has never been anything but brown, fiercely pledging his allegiance to brunettes. You coo at his highlights all the same.

"I want to," he says after a minute. "I wanna get married."

You're parked down the block from your house. You should've gotten out ten minutes ago, but there's never any rush when you're with Steve.

"The line to wed you will be out the door, champ," you say around a grin.

"Hm. I dunno." He stretches in his seat. "Maybe if I was the same guy I was a few years ago."

You wrinkle your nose. "I doubt that."

"But what can I really offer?" he continues. "I'm just some guy who can't get into college."

"That doesn't mean no one will marry you. Some people who go to college are dumber than dirt. They get married. College has nothing to do with it. You can go, if you really want to. One rejection doesn't say anything about you, Steve."

"I guess."

You pull the lever on the side. The seat shoots up with a brrrap! It clicks as you straighten.

"Where did all this come from, anyway?" you ask.

Steve shrugs. "Just thinking."

"Dangerous."

He smiles. "I like to live on the edge."

"Contemplating marriage like the world's biggest sap. Definitely edgy."

Steve hums. His hands are in his lap. He picks at a cuticle, a habit he’s recently developed. You wonder why he’s so anxious.

"Two people from our graduating class got married last week."

Your eyes widen. "You're kidding."

"Nope. Lisa Schell and Gary Brewer."

"Wait, didn't she cheat on him?"

"Yeah, but he slept with her sister, so I guess they called it even."

You shake your head. "That's insane. They're literally babies, Steve. That's like Dustin getting married."

Steve scowls. "He's not allowed to get married before me."

"Not even to his possibly fictional Suzie?"

"Not even to her."

You stare at the freckles on Steve's face and how his frizz kind of looks like a halo in the light. You imagine the feel of his hair in your hands, the warmth of his scalp.

"I'd marry you," you say.

Steve's eyebrows shoot up.

"What?"

"Like, if you were in a pinch."

He looks at you sideways. You flatten, then scrunch your hands over your knees. Your tongue feels too big for your mouth.

"I'm talking about spending the rest of my life with someone, you know. Not borrowing fifty bucks."

"Fifty bucks is a lot of money for some of us, Harrington."

"That’s probably how much Lisa's wedding dress cost."

"I hope she kept the receipt."

Silence descends. A soft breeze blows through your cracked window. You want to search Steve's glove box for gum, but you've just told him you'd marry him, so you can't do anything except think about the fact that those words came out of your mouth.

"Are you…" Steve begins, then pauses. "Why did you say that?"

"Because you're worried, for some incomprehensible reason, that no one will marry you."

"I scoop ice cream for a living."

You level him with a look.

"Steve. We're kids. Cut yourself some slack."

His eyes turn hollow. They've been doing that lately. You wish you knew why.

"I don't really feel like a kid these days," he says.

Something about the way Steve sounds makes you want to climb over the console and curl into him, cradle his head to your neck. Which is crazy. You guys don't do that. Steve isn't yours to do that with.

"Let's make a pact," you say softly.

He meets your eye. "A pact?"

"Mmhm. Let's say if both of us aren't married by… thirty, then we'll get married."

"Well, I don't want a pity marriage."

You roll your eyes. "It's not a pity marriage, Steve."

"Thirty is so late! You really think I won't be married by then?" he asks.

"No, I don't think that. I already said folks will be lined up to marry you," you say.

"I can't wait till I'm thirty."

"Or you'll turn into an old maid?"

"Meh meh meh," he mocks without any heat.

You purse your lips so you don't smile. "Fine. We'll split the difference. Twenty-four?"

Steve considers that. Really considers it. It suddenly occurs to you what you're promising and who you're promising it to. You wonder if you'll both forget about it. Or brush it off. Oh, what did we know? We were kids!

Except Steve doesn't feel like a kid. And maybe you don't either, as much as you wish you do.

"Do you mean it?" he asks.

"Of course I do."

"No, seriously." He's serious. "I mean it, so if you don't…"

"Steve, I said I mean it. I do."

"You'll marry me?"

"I will."

"Swear on it."

You hold out your right pinkie out, waiting. Steve hooks his finger over yours. Impulsively, you kiss your linked pinkies. To show that you really, truly mean it.

You try to picture it. What walking down the aisle to meet Steve at the altar would feel like. You wonder if he'd keep his hair long, like it is now. You like it long. Would he keep it long for you?

"Will you buy me a ring?" you ask. "If we get married, I mean."

"Of course I'd buy you a ring," Steve says. "I'd get you anything you wanted."

"Okay." Your heart hammers in your chest. "I'm gonna go home."

"Alright. Want me to pull up to the door?"

"No, it's fine. Walking is good for digestion. Those milkshakes were no joke."

Steve smiles. He has such a lovely smile. His Cupid's bow is shaped exactly like a heart.

"Same time tomorrow? It's movie night."

Right. Your movie night. A semi-regular occasion that includes you, Steve, Robin, and the kids, sometimes. You've watched at least a dozen movies this summer together. Only this time, you're watching a movie after promising to marry Steve.

"Sounds good," you say. "Will you pick me up?"

"Always."

Another promise. You hadn't realized how many Steve makes to you.

"'Kay. See you."

You get out. Steve waves as he pulls away from the curb.

Your ring finger feels bare. You rub it, hoping the feeling will go away.

ii. the wound

The plastic chair has turned your legs numb. Your butt is about to follow.

Can butts go numb? You're not sure. You'll find out soon, though.

You rub your eyes. God, you need sleep.

Across the room, you catch Joyce Byers' gaze. She smiles at you, though it's brittle. You try to smile back, feeling distinctly like you might break if you stretch your mouth too far.

She looks away, and your not-smile falls.

"They'll let us in soon," she says, like she knows. She does know. Better than you, certainly.

The hospital smells cold. It smells like a place people go to die.

Your heartbeat ratchets. You shouldn't think like that.

"You don't understand," comes Dustin's voice. He's at the receptionist's desk, flanked by Mike and Lucas. Dustin's face is red and blotchy, near tears.

"I need to see him. You won't let me see Eddie, so—"

The receptionist rears back, like she can't believe three children are daring to speak to her.

"Neither patient is cleared for visitors," she says icily. "Now, for the last time: have a seat."

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Joyce begin to stand, ready to herd the kids away. You beat her to it. Out of everyone in this room, you're probably the only person who has the strength to stand.

"Guys, c'mon. It won't be long."

They don't look at you. You don't take it personally. An hour earlier, you'd cornered Dustin and forced him to tell you what happened. What's been happening.

So he did. And now you're here.

You don't blame them for glaring at the prickly receptionist. But you know that won't do anything. It won't heal Steve quicker. And it won't make anybody feel better.

"Hey, Dustin." You lay a hand on his shoulder. He looks at you like you're not Steve. You wish it was you in surgery instead.

"Come sit," you say.

"I need to see him," he tells you.

"I know." Your throat tightens, threatening to trap your words altogether. You rush to get the rest out. "I do too. But this isn't going to make that happen faster. Come sit with me. Okay?"

"He'll be fine," Mike says quietly. "They don't wanna get sued by his asshole dad."

You nod, because yeah, good point. Quite possibly the first time Richard Harrington has brought anybody comfort. He's in Cancun, last you'd heard. You hope he chokes on a margarita.

Dustin follows you. Mike and Lucas sit next to Joyce. The five of you wait.

At some point, you fall asleep. When you wake up, it's to the contentious receptionist peering over you all.

"Mr. Harrington is awake," she says primly. "You may see him now, young man."

Dustin flies out of the chair, Lucas and Mike at his heels.

A part of you wants to go home, and you feel terrible for it. You feel terrible that Steve almost died, but you're the frightened one. You don't know if you can bear to see him tied to tubes and a heart monitor.

"Go on."

Joyce tracks you sleepily. Her hair is more knotted than before you fell asleep. She nods to the hallway.

"Go see him."

You can’t voice every thought, every fear. I don’t know if I can see him like this.

“It’s good he won’t wake up alone,” she says.

“He’s got a family.” You wave your hand weakly.

Joyce watches you for a moment. Then she gets up.

"Yes, he does."

She holds out her hand.

You don’t know Joyce Byers very well. This is probably the longest conversation you’ve had with her. You realize, then, that you're wrong—you’re not the one who’s strong enough to stand.

“Let’s go see him,” she says. "All of his loved ones should be there."

God, are you really that obvious?

You take her hand, and the two of you go down the hall.

Steve is nearly unrecognizable in the hospital bed. The kids are speaking to him, unusually quiet. They look up when you enter.

Steve’s eyes lock with yours.

“Hey,” is all you say.

“Hi,” he says, voice rough with disuse and getting choked by what Dustin had described as demon bats.

“Boys, come on,” Joyce calls. “Let’s make a cafeteria stop.”

You see Dustin about to protest, but Lucas tugs his arm like he knows, and goddamn, you really are that obvious, aren’t you?

You wait for the door to close behind you. Then you walk to Steve’s side.

The gnarled ring of flesh around his neck makes you queasy. The rest of him isn’t much better, red and purple smeared across any skin that’s not covered by the chalky hospital gown.

You sit in the chair. It’s the same plastic kind as the ones in the waiting room, but this one doesn’t feel so hard.

“Robin called me,” you say.

Steve closes his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, you’d better be.” Your voice cracks. “Can’t believe you went dimension-surfing without me.”

“You’re mad at me.”

Your breath is punched out of you.

“No,” you say softly. “My God, Steve. I’m not mad at you.”

His hand creeps to the edge of the bed. His fingers are scraped.

You take his hand and lace your fingers together. He slow-blinks. He’ll probably fall asleep in the next half hour.

“It’s okay if you are,” he whispers. “Mad, I mean. I’d be mad too.”

You know he wouldn’t be, though. You know Steve would forgive you in a heartbeat.

“I’m not mad,” you say, equally as quiet. “I just… I was scared."

He nods. "I'm sorry for scaring you."

You bow your head and close your eyes. When Robin had called, you'd run to the bathroom and coughed up stomach acid.

They say he’ll make it, she'd told you, and you'd realized with violent clarity that you love him.

But Steve doesn't need that right now. So you bury it.

You lean in and bring Steve's knuckles to your lips, taking care not to jostle him.

His eyes widen. Part of you hopes he won’t remember this conversation.

"Don't do that again," you say. “Not without me.”

"Okay,” he whispers. “I won't."

You wait until he falls asleep, hand in his.

iii. the brand

“There’s no way I’m getting in your death van, Munson!” Robin whines.

“Death van is an exaggeration, Buckley. If anything, it’s a life van. I’m still here, aren’t I?” Eddie asks.

“Definitely not because of that heap of metal,” Steve murmurs to you. You snicker.

It’s nearly dark, but a summer dark, where it doesn’t actually turn to night until well after nine PM. The top two buttons of Steve’s dress shirt are undone, and you can’t stop staring. It’s embarrassing, really. You’d nearly missed Eddie’s walk across the stage because of that damned triangle of tanned skin and dark chest hair.

“Why can’t we take the station wagon?” Robin asks.

“I think Nancy already left,” you say. “Sorry, Rob.”

“And I’ve put my car jacking days behind me,” Eddie announces, flinging his arms out. “So my van it shall be!”

Robin whips her head around to glare at Steve.

“This is your fault,” she accuses scathingly.

“Me?!”

“You just had to go and get a flat tire yesterday.”

“Yeah, Steve,” you add cheekily. “Why couldn’t you have foreseen the dreaded timeline where Eddie drives?”

“Et tu?” Eddie asks. “I’m hurt. I’m a great driver, y’know. Better than Steve, some have told me.”

“Dustin only told you that ‘cause you were high on morphine and about to burst into tears,” Robin says.

As they bicker, Steve draws closer, so your arms brush. You close the distance, crowding him.

“Y’okay?” he asks quietly.

“Yes,” you say, startled. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Just checking.”

“Are you okay?”

He turns to you. He looks like he’s searching for something. You don’t know what.

“Yeah,” Steve says after a minute. “I am. Better than, actually.”

“‘Cause I’m here, right?” you ask with a gooey grin.

“Yeah. ‘Cause you’re here.”

He sounds honest, so you turn away, because you can’t handle that and his chest hair.

"I should get to choose where we go," Robin says as you arrive at Eddie's van. "Since it may be our last trip and all."

"Funny you were in Band and not president of the drama club, Buckley," Eddie says dryly.

"Pot, kettle."

"How 'bout Rita's?" you suggest. "Unlimited refills and no one will hassle Eddie."

"Aw, you care about little ol' me?" Eddie asks.

"If you get us there in one piece, yes."

Eddie huffs. "No wonder you and the Hair are like this." He crosses his fingers.

"Damn right," Steve says. "We even finish each other's—"

"Terribly cliche sayings!" you say.

Robin looks at you for a moment, unusually smirky. Then she looks at Steve.

"You match. Blue dress, blue tie."

"That's so if she gets lost, they know who to return her to," Steve says.

You scoff. "More like the other way around."

He pouts. "Hey."

"Hay is for horses," you sing, skipping ahead to Eddie's van.

"I'm sorry, are you excited to ride in the Hell Van?" Robin asks.

You shrug. "We could use some excitement around here, couldn't we?"

"No!" all three say.

"I've had enough excitement for ten lifetimes," Robin mutters.

Eddie pulls the door open. Your smile quickly drops.

"Uh, Eddie? Where the fuck are the seats?"

"Right, so, usually I only have Gareth and Jeff ride with me. Gareth always calls shotgun—"

"Shotgun!" Robin hollers, and races to the front seat.

You stare at the single backseat chair. There's no way it's big enough for you and Steve.

"Holy shit," Steve says, taking stock of the "backseat."

Eddie rubs the back of his neck. "Yeah… listen, if I'd known we'd be taking her, I would've put the other seat in, swear! Usually we take it out for the equipment."

"Well, what are we supposed to do? Lay down and pray? This is how people get head injuries, Eddie," you say, arms folded.

"Maybe we can call a cab," Steve suggests.

"At this hour?" You shake your head. "No way. This isn't Indianapolis."

"Oh my God." Robin groans. "The solution is so obvious. Sit on Steve's lap. Boom. Now come on, I'm starving."

You tense. Steve is tactile, sure, and you've become acclimated to that over the years.

But this? This is way, way beyond that.

"Uh…" Steve glances at you. "Do you… I mean, if you don't mind?"

You glance at Eddie, who's got the tiniest smirk. You glower and he clears his throat, hiding his mouth behind a lock of hair.

"I don't mind," you say, more confident than you feel. "It's a short drive."

Eddie nods. "Definitely. I'll step on it."

"Please don't step on it," Robin calls. "We're already chancing fate by letting you drive in the first place."

Eddie huffs, walking to the driver's side. "Y'know, Buckley, you are just…"

You look at Steve. He smiles at you, sweet as always.

"This isn't gonna aggravate any injuries, right?" you ask. "Me… sitting on you?"

You wince at the wording.

"No, should be fine. My PT gave me the all clear a month ago."

You nod tightly. "Right. Okay. You go first."

Steve climbs in, planting his feet on the floor. You go next, stooping in front of him. You catch each other's gaze for a moment. Then you laugh, suddenly trying to look anywhere but at Steve.

"Right, so I'll just…"

You slide onto Steve's lap, trying to hold some of your weight so you won't crush him. He splays an easy hand over your belly and leans over to pull the van door shut. Your heart thunders in your chest.

"You can sit back, y'know," he says, breath tickling your ear. "’M not made of glass."

"Didn't want your legs to go numb," you joke weakly.

Steve makes an unhappy noise and tugs you back so you're fully seated on him. You angle yourself so you can look at him. Steve looks up at you, lightly tracing a pattern on your hip. Like you do this all the time.

"Hi," you say, too jittery to crack another joke.

Steve smiles gently. "Hey."

His tone is fond. You feel sick.

"Everybody good?" Eddie asks.

He adjusts the rear view mirror and you watch his eyebrows shoot up in the reflection.

"You two look cozy."

"Shut the fuck up, Munson," you mumble. "Just drive, already."

Eddie giggles like a gremlin in reply and turns the ignition.

It’s not bad, at first. Eddie takes it easy driving through Hawkins. Part of it is because he doesn’t want to attract attention. The other part is that Hopper promised Eddie a night in jail if he caught him running the stop signs again.

You personally think it’s a bluff. Robin does not; she’s enthusiastically annoying about road safety, and points out every single sign and red light. This causes Eddie to start slamming the breaks in retaliation.

“Holy fuck!” you yelp when Eddie hits the breaks particularly hard. “Eddie!”

Steve is quick to tug you backwards, considering you’re not belted. You scramble to grab his shoulders and twist to look at him.

“Thanks,” you say breathlessly.

He smiles, then leans away, glaring at the front.

“Really, Munson?”

“She started it!” Eddie insists. “Blame your BFF!”

“Can you drive like someone who doesn’t have a death wish?” Robin shoots back.

Steve’s hands are now on the small of your back and on your hip, respectively. Your legs hang over the side of the carseat, butt nestled quite firmly on his thighs.

God, you’re never living this down.

“Y’okay?”

Steve’s breath in your ear makes you squirm. You turn to look at him.

“Fine,” you murmur. “I’m not crushing you, am I?”

“No,” he says. “Don’t worry.”

Eddie breaks again, harder than before. You slip.

Steve reacts instantly, his hand grabbing the meat of your thigh. Your dress rides up, so it’s skin on skin.

The momentum is worse, however, because you jerk back. Right into Steve’s face.

Your nose mashes into his, which isn’t great. But then, your lips smush against his cheek. When you pull back, there’s a smeared lipstick print.

Maybe you’re the one with a death wish.

Robin is screeching incoherently but you can't focus on anything but the smudge of pink on Steve's cheek. Your chest feels tight.

He looks like he's yours.

"Yeah, we're fine, " Steve says, voice close enough to startle you back into the conversation.

He looks up at you. Your hand lands on the lipstick, like if you cover it, it'll go away. Steve tilts his head, mouth open in a question.

"Sorry," you rush out before he can speak. "I got some of my, uh, lipstick on you."

He relaxes.

"Oh. Thought I was bleeding or something," he says with a slight laugh. "'S okay, I can wipe it off when we get there."

"Uh-huh."

You drop your hand. You can't stop staring. Stop staring.

The print isn't exactly in the shape of your lips, but it's close. You can see the divots and where your lips parted. If someone were to see you two, they'd assume a lot of things you're not.

Steve's collar is wrinkled from the van ride from Hell. His neck is flushed. You wonder how your lipstick would look there.

Eddie presses the brake, softer this time. Steve's fingers dig into the meat of your thigh anyway. More marks.

"Alright, relax, gang," Eddie says. "We're almost there."

You touch Steve's cheek again and hope he'll forget to wash you off of his face.

iv. the secret

It's raining. You're in Steve's bed.

Thunder shakes the sky. You curl further into your—Steve’s—pillow. It smells like his soap and detergent.

You used to like the rain. Not so much these days. Rain makes you think of blood on asphalt and being alone at twenty-four. Rain silences you.

"Do you think he'll come back?"

You've never dared to ask anyone. Not even Joyce. She'd know. She wouldn't tell you the truth, though.

Nancy Wheeler probably could. She'd face you with that steel brow of hers and give it to you straight.

Yes. The monster's back. You're not getting married.

You slip your hand into Steve’s. He squeezes your fingers. Outside, the rain roars.

"I don't know," Steve says into the darkness.

You can't see him like this. It makes you mildly claustrophobic. Maybe you should turn on the hall light.

"Hopper said he was dead. So did that other guy—uh, Murray. And like, Eddie's okay. And Max. El would tell us if she sensed something. It's not like he could come back without making a sound. I mean, from what she told me, she basically, like, unraveled him from the inside out. Which is pretty gross, but also a good way to keep someone dead."

He's rambling. He's rambling to distract you.

God, what the fuck are you going to do when you're twenty-four and unmarried and Steve's forgotten all about you?

"I don't want anyone to die," you whisper.

Steve squeezes your hand harder.

"No one's gonna die."

You shift closer. You can barely make out Steve's silhouette. The ends of his hair tickle your knuckles.

"Hey," he says, and you try to find his eyes, but you can't. "Nothing's gonna happen, okay?"

"Yeah," you say, even though something did happen, something that almost took him away from you, and you don't know if you can handle that again.

"You can stay here as long as you want," he says.

"I can go back to my room."

Steve threads his fingers with yours. You can't see his eyes but it's okay.

"Don't," he says.

"Okay."

You scoot forward, closing another few inches between you two. Now, you feel Steve's breath on your face. He smells like minty toothpaste. He is alive.

The rain batters against the windows. You could kiss him. You could kiss him right now, and no one would know except for you and him.

His breath has begun to even out. You lean in blindly. Your lips land on his hair.

It's hardly a kiss. It’ll be your secret anyway.

+ and, finally, the first.

"Dustin wanted chocolate milk," you say, not looking up from the tub of yogurt you're searching the date for.

"Yeah," Steve says, parking the cart to the side. "Kid's addicted."

He opens the giant fridge door and a burst of cold air nips at your arm. You shy away.

"Six dollars? Jesus, does it come from gold cows?"

You snort, finally putting the yogurt in the cart. You stay at Steve’s house more often than not these days, so there’s no point in getting a separate cart.

"What?" Steve asks, looking at you.

"You're funny, that's what."

"I am?"

"You sound like somebody's grandpa."

"I do not!"

"Do too," you say sweetly.

"Do not."

"Do too infinity."

Steve rolls his eyes.

"Yeah, whatever. I'm a grandpa 'cause I don't wanna spend a leg and an arm on chocolate milk for the little shit? So be it."

"Steve," you begin, eyebrows drawing together. "It's his birthday. Have a heart, old man."

"Oh, good grief," he mumbles, but he takes the carton and puts it into the cart.

You smile. Steve shakes his head.

"This is why I don't go shopping with you. You're an enabler."

"I am," you say happily, walking alongside him as he pushes the cart.

"And you don't push the cart."

You tut. "Pretty girls don't push shopping carts, Steven."

"Oh, they just find some poor sap to push it for them, huh?"

"I'm so glad you're on board," you say, skipping ahead to the chip aisle.

You look through the shelves and land on two types of Doritos. Cool Ranch and Original. It’s a tough decision.

“Steve, what do you think?” You hold up the bags. “Which do they like better?”

“Ranch. According to Mike, liking the original flavors of snacks is lame.”

You snicker and take three bags of the Cool Ranch. Steve pushes the cart to you.

“I feel like we’re shopping for our kid,” you say. “We’re the awesome house everybody wants to visit because we have the best snacks and the biggest pool.”

You look up when Steve doesn’t reply. He stares at you, expression unreadable. Your smile dims.

“What?” you ask.

Steve shakes his head.

“Nothing,” he says quietly. “It’s nothing.”

“Steve, seriously. What is it?”

He shakes his head again.

“Nothing, really. Just zoned out for a second.”

He continues to push the cart down the aisle. You watch him for a moment, then follow. The two of you quickly check off the remaining items on Steve’s list (yes, his actual, physical grocery list), and then you check out.

The cashier smiles at you both in line. She’s an older woman, with the typical poofy blowout nearly every woman over fifty gets at Brenda’s Salon in downtown Hawkins. You busily put the items on the conveyor belt while Steve takes out his wallet and makes conversation with the cashier. It’s a good routine you two have established.

When the cashier’s done, you squeeze past the cart and grab half of the bags. Steve takes the receipt and the rest of the bags.

“You two are very sweet together,” the cashier says, her round cheeks blush-red like apples. “Have a wonderful day.”

“You too, ma’am,” Steve replies, and heads to the exit.

You’re frozen for a moment, startled until Steve calls your name. You heft the bags in your arms and hurry after him.

Steve stops and takes two of your bags before crossing the parking lot.

“Steve,” you say, and huff. “I can carry them.”

“Pretty girls don’t push carts or carry bags. It’s the rule, remember?”

You watch, unimpressed, as Steve then proceeds to try and get his car keys with an armful of grocery bags. When he almost drops a bag for the third time, you sigh and take pity.

“Which pocket?” you ask, snaking your arm around.

“Back left,” he says, smiling sheepishly.

You roll your eyes, feeling disgustingly fond. You shove your hand down Steve’s back jean pocket. He wiggles his eyebrows at you.

“Take me out to dinner at least,” he says.

“Pretty boys don’t get taken to dinner until the pretty girl has been asked out properly,” you shoot back.

Steve smiles, but the joke doesn’t land like it usually does. You step away as soon as you get the keys, clearing your throat.

“Well, I hope you’ve learned your lesson about carrying all the bags, Popeye.”

You open the trunk for him, then go to open the passenger side door.

“If I don’t carry all the bags, how else am I meant to show off to the ladies?”

You pull the handle on the driver’s side for Steve and he gets in, beaming cheekily at you.

“The only person who’s watching you make a fool of yourself is me, big guy,” you say. “So, mission failed.”

You open the glove compartment and start fishing through for gum. You find a Juicy Fruit packet but it’s empty.

“Damn, that’s what we forgot,” you say, defeatedly crumpling the cardboard. “Gum.”

You start to turn to Steve. “Do you think we—”

You’ve wondered, probably more than you should, about how Steve Harrington kisses.

Now you know: tenderly.

He cups both sides of your face, and you have to brace yourself on the center console for balance. Your other hand tangles in his hair. It’s as soft as you imagined, free of product, and you scrunch the baby hairs at the base of his scalp. Steve makes a quiet noise.

You kiss until you need air. Even then, Steve doesn’t let you go far. You part with only an inch or two between you.

“There’s gum in the middle compartment,” is the first thing he says.

“Huh?”

“In here.” He pats the compartment between the seats. “Hubba Bubba. I got it last week.”

You giggle and grab Steve’s face with both hands. His hands slip to your arms and he squeezes, smiling gently.

“What?” he asks.

“Fuck, I’m glad I know you,” you say.

Steve kisses you again. Two. Steve Harrington has officially kissed you two times.

You hope you’ll lose track at some point.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x yn #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fluff #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x reader #stranger things #stranger things x you

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stxrvel · 9 months

Text

hate is a strong word

summary: you hated Bucky and you were convinced that he hated you back. until one time he was talking to you and it started to sound... lovely? what was happening?

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

words: 6k

warnings: some bad words, a lot of arguments, a HUGE flashback, a little bit of angst i think? bucky and reader insult each other, reader doesn't like to listen, bucky is easily angered, bucky likes to destroy things when he gets angry but regrets it easily, this is not exactly a healthy relationship(? descriptions of weapons, missiles and buildings being bombed, reader is also very stubborn and likes to put her life at risk… or so.

note: hi guys!! so i came back and i am kinda proud of this one. i think i haven't felt that way in a long time. i gave myself the time to write when i felt like it and it was wonderful, so this came out. also i put the poll for a whole week and i can't change it now >:(, but i think this onsehot fits the angst with a happy ending (im not sure if this fits the angst tho, you gotta tell me) but im gonna try to do something else that fits the vibe, and i'll probably do some other poll to write about someone else. (also i think i should warn you guys that i dont think im that good writing action scenes or tension scenes, so if that's bad i hope you forgive me): anyway, hope you guys like this one!! i love reading your comments so if you want and can, please leave some <33 love you all and see you next time!

part 2

Bucky was really pissing you off too much at that moment. Or maybe you were feeling a little uncomfortable.

He hadn't spoken a single word to you since you had arrived at that tiny house, only shrugged silently and then exploded. You had seen Bucky explode several times before and you admitted that watching him was somewhat entertaining; seeing the faces of frightened people, trying to flee away from his angry face and destructive hands, but physically forced to stand by and listen to his scolding. You used to have fun with that. However, at the time, when you were the extreme recipient of that anger, it wasn't so much fun.

You had already heard a couple of broken glass, shattered wood and metal containers fall to the ground. Maybe five minutes or so had passed and he was barely pausing to look at his artwork. It wasn't too much that he had taken and thrown while you had stayed in the room, but it had all sounded very loud, so you had no choice but to go out and see what he was doing.

You were leaning against the threshold of the hallway to the bedrooms, right across from the living room and kitchen. Bucky looked like he had just finished getting all his anger out when he finally stood silently. He probably thought you were asleep while he was doing all that, as if that sound couldn't wake you up. Was he really that angry about what you had done? You mean, yes, it was very risky, but there you were alive, weren't you?

You felt the best thing you could do was to stay quiet and wait for him to say or do something, because you could risk that angry outburst really coming down in your face. For that moment he had only taken it out on the house, which had nothing to do with your problems, and you didn't want the arguments to start filling the silence that followed his stillness.

But, well, you didn't always do the right thing. That's why you were in that situation in the first place.

“Are you done yet?” you signed your sentence.

Bucky had a tense posture, squared shoulders moving in rhythm with his accelerated breathing. His back was to you, staring at the kitchen counter that had been left completely empty. You knew by the way he was clasping his hands that he was trying to maintain his composure.

“Are you serious?” his voice came out hoarse, a sign of his growing anger.

Maybe you should have stopped there, or when he continued to not turn to look at you, but you just couldn't keep your mouth shut.

“What's your problem, Barnes? Yes, I took a chance, but it's not that big of a deal. It's not for this,” you pointed to the mess around you, even though he wasn't looking at you.

“It's not a big deal, you say?” Bucky moved and you felt yourself watching his angry figure move in slow motion. “What's your problem?”

His beady eyes met yours. You felt a little intimidated by the ripples of annoyance coming off his body, filling the entire room with an unbearable, suffocating tension. His scowl and that strangely calm tone of voice made your hair stand on end.

None of the pieces of glass or splintered wood on the floor looked as dangerous as that expression on Bucky's face. He looked very angry, yes, but there was also something in his eyes when he looked at you. Something like concern… but that was impossible.

“Really, Y/N, what's your problem? Who the fuck do you think you are?”

“Now, what the fuck are you talking about?”

“I was the mission leader!” his voice rose, his body moving forward as he pointed his index finger at himself. “And you were supposed to follow my orders.”

“I did, Barnes, I-”

“No,” he exclaimed, again moving closer. “You didn't do anything I asked you to do! Why can't you just…? Argh.”

You moved back a little as he planted his hands on the dining room table. You felt a little pressure in your chest at the sight of him like this, as if defeated and hopeless. Disappointed. But that was a common thing. That's why you used to have individual missions, and that's why you didn't really like working in a team. You mean, it wasn't wrong to do it, but everything always ended up in arguments because nobody liked the way you worked, so it was better to do it alone, right?

Seeing Bucky like that reminded you of how many times you had seen that look on the faces of Steve, Natasha, Tony, Clint, even Thor… It was never welcome nor were you comfortable with what was coming next, but it was the way you worked, how could you change out of nowhere something you had done your whole life?

Maybe you just had to apologize, sometimes that worked. Because you also knew that, knowing how bossy and caring Bucky was, you should have at least held back a little during the mission. Bucky's patience couldn't stand that sort of thing.

“Listen, I'm sorry, okay? I was a little careless, but that's how-”

“A little careless?” he interrupted you, his voice and face incredulous. "You almost got yourself killed."

“We're in this job under that risk, Barnes, that's not news.”

The man in the middle of the mess ran his hands over his face, elated, frustrated and surely overwhelmed. He let out a sound somewhere between a snort and a growl before turning back to look at you.

“Why can't you just listen?”

His accusing gaze enlarged a hole in your chest that you constantly tried to ignore, planting bitter feelings of sadness that you were usually very good at avoiding. But at that moment, for some reason, you couldn't stop your face from twitching at the strong, hurt tone of the man who looked at you as if he couldn't believe who you are and what you do. It seemed like Bucky was always in denial and today he realized that what everyone always told him was true.

That look, that dull gleam in his eye, that expression of understanding… All of that you were used to seeing, but coming from him it felt different. As if you hadn't really meant to cause those feelings, as if you wanted to turn back time to do things differently. The surprisingly incredulous and remorseful look was digging deep into your head, searing itself with hot iron to make sure to haunt you in the future.

At that moment you didn't care if Bucky realized how much his words affected you. Maybe you deserved to feel that way. Maybe he should have known that it affected you too much, that would surely do more than an apology.

“If only you had listened to me, we would have left sooner and without any trouble,” Bucky spoke again after what felt like hours of silence.

You couldn't take him back. It was true.

“Why did you…? Argh. Whatever. I'm going to report to Fury.”

His figure passed you like a blur. You barely felt his presence very superficially before all was silent again.

Your heart ached again. For some reason, it wouldn't stop hurting that it was still beating.

The day before.

“WHAT?” you exclaimed in disbelief and the director's tired look reappeared.

“It's already scheduled, Y/N, I can't undo it. So just go, try to cooperate together and come back in one piece,” Fury leaned back against the back of the chair, putting his feet up on the desk.

You looked at his shoes as if they were to blame for everything.

“It's funnier to think Bucky reacted the same way,” Tony spoke up, sitting in the chair next to yours, a mocking expression on his face.

“Shut up,” you smacked his arm before turning back to the director. “Sir, you know Barnes and I don't get along and knowing that, what makes you think we'll hit it off on a mission?”

Fury shrugged. “A hunch.”

“A hunch…?” you repeated in a low tone, twice as incredulous that the big SHIELD director had just said that.

“That's it, agent, you're dismissed.”

You left his office on your own, not because you had been dispatched. The walk to the housing complex took you longer than ever at that point.

You'd only had one mission with Bucky Barnes once a couple of years ago and it had been a disaster. Your group missions usually ended with a close call, but that time with Bucky it was like going to hell and back.

You two had never gotten along. Regardless of Fury's hundreds of attempts to get along, you had never managed to vibrate on the same frequency. It seemed more like you repelled each other every time you were together, and it was totally justified because Bucky was too bossy and wouldn't let you breathe for a single second. Every second of the mission had to be ruled by him because otherwise he was going to explode into a sea of rage and, God, no one wanted to piss Bucky off in that Complex. However, you were always the first to tell him that his tactics weren't working or that he was too slow and well, naturally, you ended up arguing.

You met Natasha and Steve halfway to the rooms and from the way they both looked at each other before the redhead approached you knew you must surely have a scrunched up face.

“Did something happen?” Natasha asked as soon as she reached your side and started walking at the same pace as you, slightly more hurried than usual.

“Fury assigned me a mission with Barnes,” you spat out the good news, impossibly frowning harder at the mention of that name.

“Oh,” Natasha nodded. “Well, you could try to work things out-”

“What things, Natasha?” you paused, turning to look at her as everything around you turned red. “There's nothing to fix here, because Barnes is a stubborn, obstinate, childish, bossy, stupid man who is incapable of speaking like a civilized adult and only knows how to shout orders everywhere as if he's the bossy one in the Complex. I can't stand him!”

“Wow.”

You heard his voice.

“I hope you know the feeling is reciprocated.”

You turned to see him, his body was leaning against the island at the entrance to the kitchen, in a strategic spot as if you could never realize he was there because your path was to the other side. Natasha watched between the two of you like a tennis match, fearful as if at any moment the screaming would start and she would have to run away.

You didn't know what to do. You were super angry, yes, and you felt your blood boiling inside your veins, too. And you'd said all that stuff to Bucky's face before, and God knows how many times before you'd argued just by seeing each other in the halls of the Complex. Despite that, you felt trapped. The anger was still there, yes, but his gaze pierced through you like a sword.

“Believe me, I don't want to go on this mission with a stubborn, obstinate, headstrong, ignorant, individualist like you either, who cares not for the safety of the team but for her own victory, no matter how she achieves it.”

With his eyes sharp, his heavy footsteps approached you, echoing in your head loudly like the second hand of a clock. He had stopped at a safe distance as he spoke and at one point Natasha had grabbed your arm when it seemed you had tried to approach him as well.

“You're a hypocrite,” you spat at him.

“Ha! Me?”

“You always play the saintly dove, but you know you're not much different from me.”

“I'm nothing like you,” Bucky wrinkled his face, as if the very thought caused him to shiver with disgust.

“You're an individualist, too, imposing your plans on others.”

“You never have a plan! What do you expect me to do, let you go and die?”

“I do have plans! But you don't like them because they are more effective than yours.”

“They're more effective at the cost of risking more of our lives.”

“That's what our job is all about!”

“Our job is about protecting! How are you going to accomplish a mission if you're dead?”

“Well, I've done pretty well so far, in case you haven't noticed.”

“If I had a nickel for every time you've gone airhead straight into danger and ended up nowhere near dead, I'd have as much money as Stark.”

“And if I had a nickel for every time your stupid, slow plans have caused you to lose sight of the target and made you come back empty-handed, I'd be twice as rich as Stark.”

“At least my kill rate is minus five.”

“And my hit rate is one hundred by the way.”

“Are you even listening to what you're saying?”

“That I always finish missions on the first try, unlike you?”

“That you're treating your life like it's something insignificant.”

“Ah, now you care about my life?”

Natasha tightened her hand around your forearm again preventing you from again getting too close to the man who was getting on your nerves. Before he could respond, you spoke again:

“Look, Barnes, to make it absolutely clear to you for the rest of your long life: I love my life and I love my job. I love my life because it allows me to have this job and I love my job because it allows me to have this life. If you have a problem with how I choose to do the job, that's just that, your problem. But don't think you're coming here to give me a psychology lesson to make me believe that I don't value my life just because now you've run out of arguments. It's because I value my life, Barnes, that I always come out of every mission unscathed. I don't put myself at risk because I'm oblivious. I always have everything figured out and that's why everything always works out for me.”

Bucky snorted, his body moving away from yours, but despite that expression on his face he didn't respond again. He gave you a sidelong glance before walking back into the kitchen.

Your shoulders felt a little lighter. For a moment you thought he was going to continue arguing.

Natasha next to you sighed, finally letting go of your forearm.

“Why did you hold me so tight?” you frowned at her, rubbing the part of your skin that was slightly red. “Did you really think I was going to fight a super soldier?”

Natasha shrugged under your gaze.

“We've known you to do crazy things.”

“I wouldn't have stood a chance of beating him even if he gave me the upper hand.”

Five hours earlier.

You hadn't seen Bucky for the rest of the day after that discussion, until the next day when you had to get on the Quinjet and didn't even glance at each other.

Steve was in charge of handling the airplane and, apparently, he was also in charge of briefing you on how you were going to proceed on the mission, because Bucky was too busy drilling holes with his gaze somewhere else on the Quinjet away from the two of you.

Neither spoke when you descended nor when you approached the base apparently in a state of abandonment.

Bucky's mission were flat and simple, but as usual he had no backup plan, because all his backup plans were the same: run away. Bucky had a chick's sense of survival, that's why when things went bad was the time when he would scream at you the loudest.

Just like it happened on that mission.

“This place is deadly quiet,” you spoke for the first time, barely earning a sidelong glance from the man next to you.

You had already finished thermo-sensor checking every floor of the building and it was indeed desolate. Still, you felt a strange uncomfortable chill run down your back.

“Well, that's what deserted means,” Bucky commented, his sarcasm sharp.

You rolled your eyes at him, even if he couldn't see you, and kept walking with your gun raised as you approached the checkpoint.

“I mean I can't even hear birds or crickets, doesn't that strike you as odd?”

“Well, we're on the fourth floor, wouldn't it make it stranger if you could hear them at this altitude?”

“Well, you can hear at this height. Tell me, do you hear anything down below?”

Bucky paused. They were a few steps away from reaching the room. His deadly stare caused you nothing but boredom and you would have ignored him completely except that he let out a sigh, dejected. You detailed him minutely as he seemed to focus his hearing on external sounds.

“There's nothing,” he spoke after a few seconds, his brow slightly furrowed.

“You see?”

“But that doesn't mean anything. We'd better finish this quickly.”

Ignoring the grimace on your face, Bucky moved to step into the room whose door was wide open. You stared offended at his back and felt the urge to smack his big head with the butt of your gun.

“Here it is,” you heard him exclaim from inside.

Sighing you made your way to where he stood. A large display of old computers anchored to the wall.

“You should do it yourself,” you looked at Bucky with a smirk. “I don't handle equipment this old.”

Bucky only snorted in response and moved with his gun to another side of the room, leaving you in complete silence to do your job.

You moved quietly and sat down in front of the machines. You plugged them into the power source you brought in your suitcase and in a few minutes they began to work.

The mission was simple. There was one of the old HYDRA bases that contained specific information that Fury needed to find. Up to that point, they had searched about seven abandoned bases without any success. So there you were with Bucky, at the eighth base they had identified, digging through old commands and in another language trying to find the information they needed.

Ever since they left the Complex that morning you were convinced you would find nothing. They had already raided several bases and there were still a few more to go. The probability that you would find that information at that time was…

Bingo.

“Got it,” you exclaimed to Bucky.

You heard his hurried footsteps and then felt the warmth of his body next to you.

“Is that it?”

“Just a folder.”

“And why does it load so slowly?”

“It's an old computer, Bucky, it works at its own pace.”

Bucky gave you a sidelong glance. “Wish you understood me like you understand that thing.”

“Aish,” you pouted by way of mockery. “Jealous, Barnes?”

The aforementioned just snorted.

The load was running at forty percent and truth be told, yes, it was too slow. But you could do nothing but wait, there was no way to speed it up.

Bucky paced back and forth behind you and you just watched the green lines move as if that helped at all. But, well, what else could you do?

At one point, as the charge was about to reach eighty percent, you heard interference on your communicators.

“Argh,” you shook your head and raised your hand to move the device a little away until the sound died down. “Steve?”

There was no response.

You turned to look at Bucky, who had the same quizzical expression.

The interference returned and then you heard Steve's voice distorted.

“… of… moment!”

“What the fuck is he saying?”

Bucky remained silent, tapping the device on his ear as if that would fix it.

But you saw it before you heard Steve's voice again.

A clump of people through the window. A freshly loaded cannon.

“Barnes…”

And at that moment, Steve's voice filled them with clarity.

“It's an ambush! Get out of there now!”

The quickness of the impact didn't let you process what was happening. Less than a second after hearing Steve the ground shook beneath your feet. The cracks in the floor started small and then swallowed you apart.

You held onto a beam, barely lucid enough. You propelled yourself upward, swinging your forearms over the patch of ground that was still intact. You heard Bucky's grunts in the distance. He was surely all right.

You heard him call out to you too, but as soon as you could sit down on the ground, the first thing you did was to reach for the pendrive.

Your heart was pounding, so hard it might as well have flown out on its own. Your breathing accelerated, with adrenaline rushing through your body was the only thing you could feel. At that moment you felt capable of anything.

You stood up quickly to look out the window again. The people were gone and the cannon had been destroyed.

It was at that moment that you realized that Steve was still talking on the communicator.

“I'm fine,” you replied, after being able to decipher his words amidst the constant buzzing from the sound of the explosion and the dizziness you felt at the sight of the hole next to you.

“Okay, you're both fine,” the Captain spoke again.

“Y/N, you can get down from there and get to the floor below. I'll catch you.”

At the sound of Bucky's voice, you moved away from the window.

Bucky had landed on the floor below, and yes, from where you were you could jump up and you'd probably have nothing but a cramp.

“How's it going up there?”

“Well, the shields are holding up okay, but I've got poor vision. I think they're regrouping somewhere else.”

You looked around.

Most of the floor had swallowed up the computers, but the main one was still loading the document. You could see the green from where you were. It was at ninety-seven percent.

But it was dangerous to get too close. The pendrive was dangling from the main computer which was about to succumb to the cracked floor.

There was some concrete left in front of the computers that you could walk across, so, without a second thought, you mapped out a mental guidance plan and moved forward.

“Y/N, what the fuck are you doing?”

“I'm getting the pendrive.”

“What? Are you insane? That side of the floor isn't going to support your weight!”

“Yes it will. I know how to do it.”

You started walking all over the remaining edge of the floor in front of what was left of the computers. Small pieces would break off as you passed causing Bucky to hiss.

“Y/N, you'd better stop and get down right now. There's still a risk of them firing again.”

“I'm gonna get it, Barnes.”

“Y/N! Get down, now!”

Ignoring his command, you held onto the remaining wall in front of you as you continued on your way, almost reaching where the pendrive was, about to fall into the abyss.

Ninety-eight percent.

“Y/N!”

“Fucking hell, Barnes, will you shut the fuck up? Your yelling is breaking my concentration.”

“You want me to just stay quiet while you walk to your certain death?”

“I'm not going to dieee- ahh-”

Your left foot, the one in front, wobbled as a piece of the floor came loose. You clung tightly to the wall as best you could, breathing deeply to calm your racing heart. Panicking at that moment wasn't going to do any good.

“God, I can't believe this,” you heard Bucky's voice, muttering to himself. “Now are you really going to get off?”

His voice sounded reprimanding, but agitated. In the midst of that mess, you wondered for a moment if he was really worried.

“I'm almost there.”

You heard him grunt in the distance.

You kept moving your feet in the direction of the main computer, this time more cautiously and more slowly. The floor all along that edge was too cracked, on the verge of falling. You were surprised it had lasted this long.

At that point, Bucky started talking to Steve, but you kept your full concentration on not falling. Maybe Bucky was right and you really didn't have any regard for your life, but…. No, no. You were very sure of what you were doing. You couldn't give up without trying everything. Maybe for Bucky it was too risky, but that was your life. And you knew you could do it.

Ninety-nine.

You had reached the critical point on the ground.

The voices of the two men were becoming too overwhelming, so you quickly took off your communicator and stuffed it in one of your tactical pants pockets.

“What the fuck did you just do?” Bucky exclaimed, a considerable distance away. He wasn't as far away as you thought.

“Your voices are distracting me!”

Good. You were close. Maybe from there you could reach it… if you stretched a little… a little more… a little- Whoop. Nope. You weren't that close. Another chunk of floor fell and with it everything around you shifted. The concrete was so unstable that it tilted further into the abyss after your not at all incredible maneuver.

You had to get even closer.

You had to use plan c.

But for that, the pendrive had to be one hundred percent charged and you weren't sure you could wait for that. Or well, you weren't sure the floor would hold. You had to be quick.

You heard Bucky behind you, but his words were carried away by the wind. You couldn't focus on him because that would be too distracting.

So, arriving at point x, you executed your plan as quickly as possible.

You ran. Even if the world was falling down, you ran. In the direction of the pendrive. The green number didn't change. You took a deep breath. You felt the sparks fly around you. The sound of the ground cracking was going to haunt you in several dreams.

You picked up the pendrive. You would have a few extra seconds as you leaned over and climbed over the computers to gain momentum.

The bing of the computer filled you with a rush of adrenaline.

One hundred percent.

You jumped. You held your breath for a second. Nerves built up in your throat. You felt like you were going to lose consciousness for a minute. Maybe you heard Bucky in the background, you weren't sure, but knowing him he was probably still scolding you.

In the midst of a deep exhalation…

Your feet hit the ground. You rolled. You moved quickly as you turned to see that the ground was still falling. You got up and ran.

You ran until you collided with a solid body. Bucky was shaking your shoulders.

"Are you out of your fucking mind?" he exclaimed, his face angry.

You could hear Steve's voice through his communicator because of how close he was.

“Shit.”

He grabbed your arm and you ran again.

Somehow, Bucky managed to get you out of the building as they bombed it again. You had a gunfight the moment you touched the cold snow.

You moved alongside Bucky like a symphony, aiming and firing with your gun until you managed to get away.

When you noticed that you kept going and kept running…

“Where's Steve?”

“If you had your fucking communicator on…”

Bucky grabbed your hand again to keep running.

You quickly reached a shack that looked abandoned and the man next to you wasted no time in letting go of you and running in the direction of what appeared to be a garage. There was a motorcycle.

You reached into your pocket only to realize that the communicator had been destroyed.

And Bucky looked too angry to want to talk.

“Get on.”

He drove all the way into town, but he didn't stop there.

You were on the road for at least about two hours. You had no idea where you were.

Somewhere along that trip, Bucky stopped in front of another abandoned shack and from there he pulled out a car. He set the bike on fire.

You went back on the road, for at least another hour.

Until you reached a small town and Bucky finally stopped in front of a house that didn't look so neglected.

“They destroyed the Quinjet's shields at missile point. Steve had to leave. We'll stay here until I can get through to Fury and we know what to do.”

His voice gave no room for retorts.

Present.

Well, yes, you were a bit reckless during missions, but so what? You got what you needed thanks to your incredible action plans and always came out unscathed. If you didn't do that during missions, how far behind would they be now in their knowledge against the enemy? They would probably be sitting ducks. Bucky didn't see that.

You two didn't talk for much of the afternoon and evening. You had spent it in the living room, trying to avoid the mess he had made to get something to eat and rest. You had perhaps slept for about three hours when you woke up and saw him sitting in one of the dining room chairs. The room looked cleaner than before.

Bucky sighed when he realized you had woken up.

“I'm sorry I yelled at you.”

You frowned. “What?”

“Earlier when we arrived. And for all the mess,” he averted his gaze when you leaned on your forearm to get a better look at him.

“Don't you think it was the least you could do?” quizzical, you sat back on the couch.

“Weren't you the one who said I don't know how to talk like a civilized adult?”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Sometimes.”

“Well, now I want to. That's why I deeply apologize for reacting that way.”

You remained silent, not really knowing how to answer him. On the previous mission you'd had with Bucky, when the whole mess was over and you were quietly in the Quinjet taking it all in, Bucky had only said “you're fucking crazy” to you before exiting the aircraft. There was no scolding, at least not from him, no complaining, no yelling. Just that. And with that you stayed for a week because you never even saw him again.

Despite the number of times you had heard that, you couldn't see it that way. That was your job, that was what you did and you didn't dislike it. You had done it forever, it was basically your way of life and you had always done it excellently. You trained and practiced for situations like that, that's why you were part of SHIELD's risk management team for so long. You used to risk your life like that to save other people and it didn't bother you. Now you were still doing it, also to save people. There was no dark reason behind it. You were contributing to a common good and that was enough.

“I guess I haven't made things bearable for you either,” you admitted with a hint of remorse.

“No, never,” Bucky shook his head in agreement.

“I'm sorry I scared you,” the words slipped from your mouth. You wanted to say something else, but, well, that had to work.

Bucky let out a short laugh. His head jerked in sync, his shoulders loose as if he didn't have a care in the world. For a moment you felt like you were somewhere else; maybe in a living room, some alcoholic beverage in one of your hands as one of your favorite songs played softly in the background, and Bucky. Bucky sitting in front of you, just like that moment.

Wow. What the fuck was that?

“You apologize for my reaction, but not for what you did?” his sly grin was getting on your nerves. You preferred it when he wasn't trying to upset you at the point of smirks. You never thought that was a weapon he could use against you.

Feelings.

Ew.

No, I hate Bucky Barnes. This is unacceptable. Mind, get your shit together.

“Well, I tried to do that earlier and you didn't care. I don't know what you want from me, Barnes,” you turned your head away, nonchalantly playing with your hair to avoid seeing those light eyes again.

“You'd better leave it at that. I couldn't take that knack away from you if I tried for years,” the sigh that accompanied his words reminded you of something you'd thought of when you were in the building. His face still looked calm, but a little upset by the wrinkle between his eyebrows.

“Why do you care so much about that?” you asked him directly now that you had the chance.

You looked at him as he turned his head away, his eyes roaming over your face, confused.

“Are you asking me why I care about your life?”

Puzzled, you shrugged. His look almost made you think that was a weird thing to ask, but was it really? “Yes. Well…. You hate me.”

“What? I don't hate you,” Bucky shook his head, his face more contracted than before as if you'd said he had cat ears on his head. He looked almost offended.

And that was the really strange thing.

You mean, almost as long as you'd known Bucky your relationship had been based on fights and demeaning adjectives to each other. That he would say that made even less sense than you asking him why he cared so much about you. He had to be pulling your leg.

“What? But I hate you because you hate me,” you explained vaguely, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. That was one way of putting it; that is to say, Bucky never gave any indication that he didn't hate you. Or well…

“I don't hate you,” Bucky shrugged, his nonchalant expression confusing you that much more. “You're just a little… insufferable sometimes.”

You rolled your eyes. “That's just a synonym for hating.”

“I don't hate you,” he repeated, this time turning to look you in the eye. For a moment you felt like your breath caught in your throat and you were going to choke. “I know we argue and say a lot of things to each other, but… hating is too strong a feeling.”

“Are you really serious?” you shook your head to get the extraneous thoughts out; that wasn't the time to make a discovery, to realize you had lived a lie.

“Yes. And just to make you more sure, I wouldn't mind hanging out with you outside the Complex,” Bucky blurted out, matter-of-factly.

Your head went blank.

“WHAT?”

Several seconds stunned.

Bucky barely cracked a smile at your dumbfounded expression. It sure looked like you'd actually seen cat ears grow on his head. The things he was now saying… they didn't make sense. “You dislike the idea that much?”

“Do you want to not say things so drastically different every moment? You're changing my perception of reality.”

Bucky kept his small smile and you had to swallow hard to ignore the warmth that settled in your chest. It wasn't welcome, not at that moment. The sound of that music in the living room in your head was getting louder, as if your own mind wanted to mock your surprise.

“Well, back to your question,” Bucky moved his hands nonchalantly over his lap and your eyes followed his movement unashamedly, “I don't see why I shouldn't care about your life. We are partners, after all.”

Partners? After all you had been through? Were you partners? Did Bucky believe that?

“Are we?” you didn't try to hide the incredulous tone that accompanied your words, because it already sounded like you'd just stepped through the door into a parallel dimension.

“Sure,” Bucky nodded to emphasize your words and the calm expression on his face became more familiar with each passing second. Could it be that that had always been the reality and you had been deprived of it? “We've known each other for five years.”

“I always thought you hated me…” you mumbled to yourself, looking lost because your head recalling every fight of the last few years, since you met him, every tongue out and every exalted word, but his incredible hearing clearly picked up what you said as if you had murmured it in his ear.

“Surely it was a mistake in communication.”

“Mistake?” you frowned at his reassurance. “You always called me stubborn and childish every chance you got.”

“I thought we were annoying each other. Although, of course,” his face became a little more serious, “there were times when I knew you hated me intensely. You said really hurtful things, what was I supossed to do? That's why I never bothered to talk to you like this. You did hate me.”

“Because I thought you…! Argh.”

Bucky smiled again.

“You're the insufferable one, Barnes.”

You hated the way your head snapped back to that image in the living room, so peaceful and calm, so serene and warm, the moment his barely noticeable smile hit you again. You had barely managed to get those words out of your mouth before you felt yourself running out of breath again.

Were you asthmatic?

And why was your head suddenly filled with platonic thoughts you'd never had before in your life?

What the fuck was happening to you?

“This is the longest civilized conversation we've ever had,” Bucky spoke again, his gaze wandering somewhere in the room.

Yes, that was true. Whenever you talked for this long it was always to argue and say hurtful things to each other. But you were too surprised by everything he had said, because just yesterday he told you that he didn't want to come on this mission with you either and in his eyes you were sure you saw something like what you felt. Something of hatred, when you saw your eyes through his.

Did you just… imagine it all?

Did you think he hated you because you hated him too?

Or maybe you wanted to convince yourself that he hated you. Maybe it was easier to deal with that than with the idea that you…

Oh no.

No, no, no. There's no fucking way that's it.

But then Bucky stood up and with his smug, know-it-all, hateful look, with that sly, evil grin, like he'd always known everything, like he was squirming around enjoying your confused stare, he held out his hand to you and said:

“Shall we fix something to eat?”

Oh, no, you were screwed.

a/n: thank u so much for reading!! <3

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky fluff #james bucky barnes #stxrvel talks #avengers #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky #james buchanan barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #winter soldier #the winter soldier

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zeezelweazel · 3 months

Note

Hope you’re doing good today! I was wondering if you’d be able to a bottom alexia fic pls? They are at a friend/family’s holiday party but alexia is very horny and her and reader end up having multiple quickies around the house

Alexia Putellas| Can't get enough of you|

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I'm trying to find more fluffy fic ideas but since my brain is empty I'll power through the smut requests first

the people asked for this and I'm not one to say no ;)

(this is very urgently proof read, please let me know if there are any mistakes)

TW: semi public sex, oral, fingering, praise, slight dumbification

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New years eve was always fun but spaniards know how to throw a proper party. Mapi and Ingrid invited the team over, with loud music and a lot of alcohol the party kicked of immediately.

You know Alexia isn't in the best of places right now, so in your opinion a party would be a great way for her to relax. Apparently that isn't the case because Alexia has been tense from the moment you got to the couple's apartment and despite your efforts she doesn't seem to lighten up.

You're sitting on the couch next to Caro and Frido with Alexia tucked firmly at your side. You didn't know if the others had noticed her behaviour but even if they did, they didn't say anything. Alexia has been squirming from the moment you sat on the couch. After she sighed for the hundredth time you had enough. You kindly smiled at the other women before getting up from your spot at the couch, Alexia's eyes stuck on you.

"Excuse me I have to go to the bathroom, the zipper on this dress is killing me and I need to fix it."

The conversation continued and you turned to Alexia and sent her a pointed look. The blonde took the hint and immediately followed you to the bathroom.

The moment you closed the door you pushed Alexia against it, the captain bitting her lip to containe a whimper. You place your hands on the side of her neck and rub your thumbs over her strong jaw. Alexia gulps and waits for you to say something.

"What's wrong baby?"

Alexia tried really hard not to roll her eyes at your obliviousness but she couldn't. Instead of trying to explain to you what she wants she simply pulled you in for a bruising kiss. You groaned and pushed back against her soft lips quickly taking control of the kiss. You're not oblivious, you understood your girlfriend and her needs perfectly. Alexia was unexplainably horny from the moment you set foot here. You're not one to deny her especially when she has so much pent up frustration. You pull back and Alexia chases after your lips desperately.

"You have to ask for what you want Alexia."

Alexia whines and pulls you back in only for you to harshly push her against the door and lean in to suck bruises on her jaw. Alexia sighed and moaned quietly at the feeling of your teeth against her flesh, her hands coming up to grab your shoulders when you moved lower to her neck. Alexia had a doumbfounded look on her face when you abruptly pulled back. You just chuckled and caressed her cheek in response.

"I won't ask you again, Alexia."

The captain whined in desperation and bit her lip. You raised your eyebrow in challenge.

"I need you to touch me, please." She finally relented with a sigh.

Your reward was immediate as you pushed her further against the door and sunk to your knees. Alexia gulped at the sight and spread her legs. Her short dress gave you easy access and you only needed to tug it a little to expose her ruined underwear.

Alexia was holding her breath, wide eyes full of lust desperately waiting for you to do something. When you pulled down her underwear, exposing her dripping slit, you couldn't help but lick your lips. If there was one thing you wouldn't trade for the world it was this. Bringing your lips forward you placed an opened mouth kiss on Alexia's pussy, pulling back to glare at the blonde when her hips stuttered forward. You wordlessly placed your hand flat on her stomach and pressed hard so her hips stay in place. You surged forward, licking her up with more vigor and urgency, tongue running up the length of her cunt. Alexia did good on her part and kept quiet. Only quiet groans and occasionally whimpers leaving her parted lips. The pressure from your hand on her lower stomach did wonders, only amplifying the pleasure she was already feeling.

You took her clit in your mouth without warning and sucked and Alexia threaded a hand in your hair as mumbled spanish please left her lips. She was close, her hips were straining against your grounding hand and her thighs were clamping against your head. You looked up to see Alexia already looking at you, her teeth biting her lip so hard she almost drew blood. It didn't take long for Alexia to come undone under your tongue. She was left panting against the bathroom door as you washed your face in the sink.

Once you approached her, you tugged her dress back into place and tried to fix her hair to make her look presentable. Alexia came to and was suddenly reminded that you're not alone in your bedroom. She cleared her throat and moved to the bathroom mirror. She looked, freshly fucked, for lack of better wording.

"Come on Ale, they must be wondering were we've been."

You spent approximately another half hour enjoying the party and having fun with your friends before Alexia tugged you away, muttering an excuse that no one really understood. But you did, of course you did when she tugged you urgently into the guest room.

"I guess we're not here to look at the paintings-"

Alexia kissed your lips, clinging into you like you're her lifeline and tugged you towards the bed. You pulled back and she whined and chased after you. You chuckled and patted her cheeks affectionately.

"Why is my girl so needy tonight, hm?"

You received nothing but more whines as Alexia helplessly pawed at your sides. You decided not to tease her more, your hands dipping in her underwear to find her even more wet than she previously was. As if you never satisfied her to begin with. You groaned and immediately pushed two fingers into her gaping hole, moving Alexia to sit on the edge of the bed. Alexia's hand went on your wrist as her eyes rolled back into her head the moment your fingers found that soft spot. She seems to have forgotten were you are, loud moans that you couldn't be bothered to quiet leaving her mouth.

"Is my baby gonna come?"

Alexia nodded and whimpered her hips now rutting against your hand. You noticed the tears pulling in her eyes and smiled, placing a chaste kiss on the edge of her mouth just to see her chase after your lips. The sounds of her loud moans were covering up the squelching of her wet pussy and you grinned as Alexia neared the edge once more. You knew Alexia wasn't going to be quiet when she came so you pulled her in for a deep kiss, your tongue drowning her scream of pleasure.

You hummed when Alexia took your fingers in her mouth abd eagerly cleaned them up. You kissed her on the lips once more and teasingly smirked at her.

After the countdown and a few more drinks you expected your girlfriend to start getting tired but the blonde was anything but. Grinding into you and kissing your neck. You aren't really surprised that Alexia is all needy again, rather it made you unbelievably horny, just how desperate she was for you.

This time it was you who tugged Alexia away from your friends for what you thought will be the last orgasm for tonight. You picked a much more open spot than the ones Alexia previously dragged you to. You couldn't be bothered with secrecy, not when your insides burned for the other woman.

You found a perfect spot on the counter and without wasting a minute you bend her over it. It was easy for your fingers to find her familiar heat from the exposed angle but it wasn't enough. You tugged her dress up once more, exposing the soft flesh of her ass. Your view was obstructed by her underwear but you could still squeeze and slap the tender flesh while your fingers quickly moved inside her.

Alexia was moaning your name, her hands gripping the edge of the counter as she felt her orgasm approaching fast. You knew she wasn't going to last long given the circumstances. All it took was for you to switch the focus on her throbbing clit instead and after only a few rubs on the swollen bud Alexia was clenching hard against your fingers and shaking with the power of her orgasm.

You're impressed by how fast Alexia recovers but then again, you are still in the kitchen of her best friend's house. Alexia smiles at you, appearing positively ruined and you grin back at her. What a way to start the new year.

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#wlw #female reader #smut #bottom character #dom reader #sub character #top reader #woso fanfics #woso #woso smut #woso x reader #alexia putellas smut #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #barcelona femeni

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eternalsams · 11 months

Text

Irresistible ➻ Miguel O'Hara

pairing: Miguel O'Hara (Spider-Man 2099) x Black Cat (fem)!reader

warning/content: violence, so much sexual tension, swearing, actual plot, mention of nudity, no mention of y/n (gets called Kitty a couple of times), some heavy make out sess

summary: Miguel is sent in your world where there is no Spider-Hero to help him, you're the only person he knows there and good thing for him, you can help him. Bad thing for him, you won't stop taunting him.

words count: 3.7k

a/n: English isn't my first language, so please take that into your consideration

"We don't need her, Lyla." Miguel groans at her as he walks through the lobby. "No, we don't. But you do." Lyla pops up on Miguel's shoulder with a grin. "Come on, she'll be of a great help, she knows her world better than anyone else here. Better than you." The little lady has a point, he had to admit it. He only visited a couple of times but didn't stay long enough to know his way into the thousands of cities. The only problem is that you were a pain in the ass for Miguel. Even though you were doing your job pretty fine, you were always torturing him with your constent teasing and flirting. It was just in your nature to annoy him. As another door opens before him, Miguel notices Hobie lying on a wooden box, fidgeting with his guitar. "Why don't we send Hobie there? I don't wanna see her and I'm pretty sure they would make a good pair." He grumbled before tapping on a screen for the last details. Lyla pops back up in front of him and crosses her little arms on her chest. "Because, you and I both know that they would make a too good pair. You can still focus when you're around her and you can discipline her as well." She chuckles, her laugh echoing in the lobby. "Is this about your kitty cat again?" Hobie chuckles as he tilts his head back and looks at his boss upside down. "Don't call her that." Miguel growls before setting the right coordinates on his watch and opening a portal. He puts his mask on and turns to Lyla. "You coming with me?" He asks her and she steps back. "Nah, I'm good here. Have fun with her!" She wiggles her little fingers in his direction before disappearing. Miguel sighs and steps through the portal, immediately feeling the rain pouring down on him. "Great..." He sighs and closes the portal behind him before jumping off the rooftop into a dark alley. He checks if anybody saw him and retracts his mask before changing into more casual clothes. That means old sweat pants, a white t-shirt and a sweater. He pulls the hoodie to cover his head and stuffs his hands in his pockets before walking down the streets. The neon lights lighting the dark streets and leading him to the place he knew you'd be.

When he finally recognizes your place he walks up the couple steps of your porch and hesitates knocking on your door. He knew how much you'd tease him for coming for your help. But when he checks his watch and sees the little time before the anomaly in this world would happen, it pushes him to knock on the door. He takes a few steps back and sinks back his hand into his sweater pocket. The door opens and he immediately regrets coming to you when he sees your smirk. "Well, well, well... Spidey." You lean on your door and run a hand in your white hair before crossing your arms on your chest. He says nothing, he doesn't need to, you already know why he's here. But you still ask. "Why can i do to please you?" He visibly grimaces at your choice of words and looks away. "I need your help..." He whispers under his breath. You perfectly hear him but that wouldn't be fun for you. "What was that? I can't hear you with the rain." You say as you cup your ear and lean a bit forward. He groans and looks back at you. "I need your help." He says more distinctively. You grin and steps back into your house. "Come in, then." You wait for him to pass the door and close it behind you. "I don't have the time for your little games." He says as he inspects his surroundings, making sure you won't trap him one way or another. He was used to it by now. "I know. But I'm pretty sure I can't really fight bad guys like this." You point to yourself and he seems to finally notice how you're dressed. Or how undressed you are. You're only wearing some loose shorts and a black tank top. And he didn't need to stand closer to see you didn't wear anything underneath. He quickly looks away as you make your way to your room to change into your suit. He uses this alone time to put back on his spider-suit and when he glances over at your room, he notices you left your door slightly open. On purpose. He can see you taking off your top and revealing your toned back, he could almost see the curve of your breast if you turned slightly to your right. He quickly looks away and clears his throat, checking for the umpteenth time his watch. "We don't have much time." He calls for you and you step out of your room, your combat goggles in hand. You look at him up and down, visibly satisfied by the sight in front of you. "Wow, looking good, Spidey! Have you been working out since the last time I saw you?" You run your fingers along his broad shoulders and down his firm chest. "Not your business. Can we focus on the mission?" You let out a faux-sigh and sit down on the table, rubbing purposely your foot along his thigh. He stares at you and looks down at your foot touching him. "Yes? Am I distracting you?" You ask with that oh so annoying smirk that get on his nerves. He swats your foot away with a grunt and makes appear a screen in front of you from his watch. "Micheal Morbius from Earth-386 decided to get too close to the multiverse doors and spread chaos around him." He informs you. "Any victim yet?" You ask, now focused on the mission. "No, only calls and damages. But I've already encountered one of them. They don't wait too long before shedding blood."

"Alright, where do you think he is now? And the most important question is, why do you need me with this? If it's only Morbius, you can take care of him by yourself. Hobie told me you've dealt with him before and it went great." You frown and jumps down from the table, looking around your living room to find something to tie up your hair. "How do you know Hobie?" He frowns and turns to you. "Wouldn't you like to know, Handsome..." You glance at him and smirk, tying up your hair and maintaining eye contact with him. Miguel bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself from cursing and looks away. "Morbius is mostly looking to feed off someone so maybe somewhere with some crowd where he wouldn't be too suspicious. Do you have any idea?" He eventually asks you. "Oh, so that's why you need me. You're like a lost puppy here." You laugh and he stares at you, telling you silently to focus back on the mission. "I have an idea where he might be, but you won't like it." You shrug and grab your keys before dropping them in a little pocket on the inside of your suit. Miguel raise an eyebrow at the action but doesn't say anything. "As much as I like seeing you in that suit, you'll need casual clothes for where we're going. "I already have casual clothes." You look at the pile of clothes he took off a little earlier and look back at him. "My grandma could wear this, this is not casual. Wait here..." You say as you walk back to your room. Miguel sighs and checks another time his watch, seeing the anomaly would soon happen if you didn't hurry up. You come back with a pair of jeans way too big for you and toss it at him before giving him a button down shirt. "Wear this. I'll wear something similar. We won't be recognized." Just as he was about to ask you something, you grab another pair of jeans and put them on over your suit. "Won't be very comfortable but if we need to change quickly, it's better." You grab a shirt and put it on, Miguel still staring at you. "Come on, Handsome! We don't have whatever you're doing." You grin and tap gently on his chest as he puts on his pants. You hear him groan and walk to the door, Miguel on your tracks, buttoning up his shirt. "You look great, honey." You smirk at him as you straighten his collar. "Where did you get those clothes?" He asks you, readjusting himself in the tight pants. "You don't wanna know." You smile up at him and pat his cheek before he fakes a smile when he opens the door to let you out first. "If you needed an excuse to look at my ass, that's a terrible one" You chuckle and pull you fur hood over your head. "So... Where to?" Miguel asks as he closes your door behind him and walks down the steps. You wrap your arm around his and start walking down the street. "I hope you don't have sensitive ears, Spidey. 'Cause you're about to hear some loud music." You look up at him and intertwine your fingers with his.

Miguel winces at the loud music around him, and just like you said, he didn't like it. He looks at you ordering a drink and you turn to him. "I guess you didn't bring your wallet with you. You want something to drink?" You ask him, leaning to his ear so he could hear you. To be honest, he could hear you even if you were standing at the other end of the club if he wanted but you wanted to be that close to him and he hated it. He doesn't respond and just stares at you. You turn back to the bartender and smile at him. "He'll take a water. Thanks." You slide a ten dollars bill on the counter and wink at the guy before turning back to Miguel. "We're supposed to stop Morbius, not get drunk." He scolds you, grabbing you by the arm. "I know, I know. Will you please let me go, people look at us strange." You grit through your teeth, that was the only thing you didn't like about him. He had a stick up his ass. He complies and grabs the glass of water the bartender hands him. You slightly smirk when he empties the glass in one go and sets it back down on the counter before grabbing your wrist and leading you over where the people where dancing. "You wanna dance, Spidey?" You tease him with a chuckle. "No." He simply says and keeps walking to the private tables in the back of the club. You notice a security guy looking at you weird and you trip purposely, holding yourself on Miguel's shoulders and giggling. He turns back at you and frowns, you only had one drink and he made sure it wasn't that strong, there was no way you could be drunk. He grabs you by the waist and makes you straighten up, looking at you in the eyes. "What's wrong?" He asks, worry painted over his face. You smirk a bit and his concern drops immediately. "I'm great, we just have to act normal." You explain but don't let go of his shoulders, holding him even closer. "And acting drunk is normal to you?" He raises an eyebrow. "In a club? Yeah, definitely. Come on, Handsome, take a seat." You pats his cheek because you know how much he hates it and push him a bit. "Wha-" He can't ask you anything and end up sitting down on a couch arm rest, you on his lap. "What are you doing?" He asks through gritted teeth. "Fading in." You smile and brush a few locks away from his face to look into his red eyes. "Use that Spidey sense of yours and find that vamp, will ya?" He clears his throat and wraps awkwardly his arms around you, closing his eyes and trying to focus on anything but the loud music and your ass rubbing on his crotch. He quickly re-opens his eyes and grabs your hand before leading you towards a table where a single guy was accompanied by three women. You tap Miguel's chest, making him understand you got this. You approach the table and untie your hair. "Hi. Is this the party I've been hearing about?" You ask innocently and you lock eyes with the guy. He stands up and you get a proper look at him. He's got long black hair, you can't really see his eyes but can definitely notice how dark they are. He's tall and skinny, but not the attractive way. "You're at the right place, sweetie." He smiles at you and you notice how chapped his lips are. He extends his hand to you and you take it before quickly pulling on it and punching him in the face.

The girls at the table scream and leave but you don't let go of Morbius's hand, not wanting to let him run away. Miguel is quick to join you and as he was about to yell at you for being so reckless, Morbius pulls on your hand, making you trip and you eventually drops his hand to roll on the floor and catch yourself up. You groan and take off your shirt before putting on your mask and shooting your grappling hook to the ceiling. You swing back to Morbius while Miguel make everyone leave the club. Your feet collide violently with the vampire's head and when you look back at Miguel, he's ripping off the shirt you gave him, revealing his spider-suit. He doesn't even care about his mask and stay exposed. He shoots his web to trap Morbius and struggles to keep him still. You grab a little bottle on your belt and remove the pin before jumping towards Miguel and tackling him behind one of the couch. The gas bomb you just set off explodes and you hear Morbius cough a little before he groans. "Fuck! I thought that would stop him." You grumble and roll off of Miguel before standing up. You look at your co-worker and notice his fangs. You've only seen them once and when you asked him about them, he ignored you. So you never asked again. You had your sensitive subjects and he had his. Miguel growls and jumps at Morbius before giving him a punch in the face and sliding his talons over the vampire's shoulder. You take advantage of his weakness to run behind him and wrap your arm around his neck, locking him against you. He struggles in your arms and Miguel approaches. "Move your arm." He says in a deep voice, making you comply. "He grabs Morbius by his hair, making him wince and lean over to his neck before sinking his fangs into his skin. You grimace slightly and you feel Morbius go limp in your arms. Miguel leans back and you look at him, curious. "What did you do to him? Did you kill him?" You let the vampire fall on the floor and notice his still open eyes. "Ew, dude, you're fugly." Your comment makes Miguel slightly smile before he quickly get back serious. "I paralyzed him." He simply says before tapping on his watch. A portal opens before your eyes and your lips part in awe. You knew where he came from but you've never seen where he came from. Miguel leans down and picks up the limp Morbius before throwing him over him shoulder. He was about to step into the portal before he stops and turns back to you. "You wanna come check it out?" He asks and you try to hide your excitement. "After you, I wanna check you out when you walk in front of me." You say and he chuckle, making you smile.

He steps into the portal and gets back into the lobby where Hobie is still playing with his guitar. "Don't you have something better to do?" He asks the younger man as he drops Morbius on the ground. "Oh, you're not dead. How did it go with your kitty cat?" Hobie asks, rolling down to stand up as he slides his guitar in his back. "Hello!" Your voice echoes in the lobby as you step through the portal before it closes and Hobie smirks. "I see it went well since we don't usually accept cats here." He chuckles and walks to you before shaking your hand. "Good to see you, Kitty." You smile at him and look around you, admiring the place Miguel founded all these years ago. "Welcome back!" Lyla pops up in front of Miguel and cocks her head to the side to glance at you. "I see the mission went well." She smiles at him. "It did? And ask Ben to take Morbius back to his world and make sure he stays there." He orders and Lyla nods before disappearing. Miguel turns back at you and quickly glance at Hobie. "I still don't know where you know him from and I'm not sure I wanna know." He pinches the bridge of his nose before he grabs something on a shelf and launches it at you. "Put this on or you won't feel good for long." You look down at the bracelets in your hands and put it on without asking any question. "Alright, come with me now." He leaves the lobby and steps into an elevator. You follow him and the whole way up is spent in complete silence. Neither of you dare to speak. Until you open your mouth. "We make a good team." You slightly smirk as you glance at him. "We do." He simply responds. "We should work together more often." You nudge him with your shoulder. "I don't think that's a good idea, actually." You roll your eyes out, the stick up his ass is back and went even deeper. "You're right, there's some things I do better alone." You look right in front of you and you can see from the corner of your eyes Miguel looking at you but not saying anything. "Some things?" He asks, raising his eyebrows. You hum in response and smirk at him. "Some things." You confirm. You hear him quietly chuckle and he shakes his head. "You're really something else." He murmurs under his breath. "Well, I hope I am. You spend your days with different versions of you, I do hope I'm different form you guys." Your fingers start grazing his and he looks down at your hand before looking back up at you. "Don't." You turn to him and take a step closer. "Why?" Your fingers play with the hem of his suit at his neck. You see his Adam's apple slightly bob and a smile stretches your lips. "Just don't." He repeats. You nod but don't step back.

"Kitty..." He says as a warning. "You've never called me that before." You cock your head to the side and play with his fingers. "Kitty." He says more sternly. "Spidey." You respond and that's the final stroke. He grabs you by the neck and smashes his lips on yours, taking you by surprise. You can feel his fangs nibble at your bottom lip and a mix of a grunt and a moan escapes you. He pushes you against the glass behind you and runs his hands along your body. That body that kept teasing him and he couldn't forget for years. He really did try to control himself as long as he could but you made it so hard for him to focus on the mission when you're constantly teasing him. He feels your fingers runs through his locks and tug at his hair, keeping him close to you. His tongue lick across your lips and you part them, finally tasting him after all those years. And does he taste good! One of your hands runs down his neck and holds onto his shoulder, trying to get him closer. His hands leave your face and go straight to your ass, kneading at the flesh. Your ass was just like he imagined it, you worked hard for your body to look like that and he wanted to feel every defined muscles under his eager fingers. He grabs you behind the knees and taps the back of your thighs. "Jump." He says between kisses and you comply, wrapping your legs around his waist. Your back against the glass wall of the elevator and your chest flush against Miguel's. You could feel all of him against all of you and it was intoxicating. The singular ding of the elevator makes Miguel drop you back on the floor and he rests his forehead against yours, panting. His red eyes looking directly into yours. Your heart beating so fast and hard against your chest it hurts. The doors open and Miguel's body mostly hides yours, so the person stepping in knows he's not alone but can't recognize you. "Having some good company there?" Miguel recognizes Ben's voice and he can practically hear the smirk in his voice. "I don't remember asking you anything." Ben's smirk drops and he clears his throat. "Lyla told me about Morbius, where is he?" He asks. "In the lobby." Miguel responds, still looking deeply into yours eyes and hiding you from the other Spider-Man in the elevator. You can't help but smile and you try to contain it by biting down on your lip. Miguel runs his tongue over his teeth to hide his smile too and drops his head on yours, his breathing finally steady. He looks back up at you and opens his mouth, looking for the right words. "We'll talk." He mouths to you and you nod, grabbing a handful of his suit and kissing him deeply before you heard another ding from the elevator. The doors open and you slip out of there, trying not to make any eye contact with Ben. "Was that that cat girl Hobie talks about?" The other Spider-Man can't help himself but ask his boss. Which earns him a glare from Miguel. "Take care of Morbius." He says before following you.

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