#it is not a house i have ever been in either
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like she used to (V)
alexia putellas x sister chapter I, II, III, IV
from alexia's perspective tonight :)
~~~~~~
My younger sister hates me.
I don't know why, I don't even know when it happened.
But I know that my younger sister hates me, and I have absolutely no idea what to do about it.
I have known there was something wrong since she started skipping our dinners on Thursdays, claiming to have Barcelona B training until late.
I knew they finished up an hour before dinner started.
Alba says that I spent to much time away from her, that I didn't focus on her enough.
Mami says that she is growing up and simply becoming less reliant on her older sisters.
But neither of those explanations seem to make sense, because my younger sister is not the girl that I once knew any more.
The girl who would sleep in my bed every night, who wiped my tears when I cried and put a smile on my face when all I wanted to do was bury my face into my pillow and scream about how unfair the world was.
Because she's Elena and she's happy, she always has been.
But Elena does not seem happy anymore. And I don't know when it changed, but I hate myself for not being there to make her smile like she did for me so many times when we were younger. I hate myself for not being there to put a smile back on her face as soon as it fell off.
She lives with bags under her eyes, her usually olive skin turned pale, her eyes constantly downcast and her eyebrows set in a solemn line.
She used to tell me everything, but then I blinked and my baby sister's name was on my team sheet and I didn't even know she had been training with the first team.
Mami said that she was sleeping, that she didn't want to talk about it now. Mapi told me the next day that she found her 45 minutes away from home, sitting in the park by her house.
I should have been there more, I should have gone to her games. I know that, everyone knows that. But I broke up with Jenni, who had been my rock for as long as I could remember. I broke up with Jenni and she moved to Mexico, leaving me alone for the first time, in an apartment full of memories that would swallow me every time I entered.
I felt alone, every fibre of my being felt alone. I was isolated and my world was crumbling around me. And I didn't know who to turn to, I didn't know where I could find support.
I didn't know that Elena was sat at home in bed, staring at her phone and waiting for me to call her, to text her.
I used to call her every night, but slowly, those phone calls died out. Elena would all asleep with her phone in her lap. Until she gave up. Until she switched her phone off as soon as she reached her bedroom in the evenings.
Back when Papi died, I relied probably a bit too much on my little sister to get me through it. Mami always said it was the wrong thing so I didn't want to make that mistake again. I avoided Elena, not wanting her to realise how weak I really am. She always said she admired me for being strong, powerful. I was her inspiration, her hero.
I didn't want to ruin that image she had of me by crying on Mami's couch, unable to be alone after something as superficial as a breakup.
But I think I ruined that image in other ways.
I stopped going to her games.
I stopped holding her as she fell asleep in my lap on a Thursday evening, instead watching her move further and further away from me on the sofa, until she wasn't there at all.
I stopped being there for her, helping her with her homework, picking her up from training, taking her out for ice cream.
I stopped being her sister, and I don't think I will ever forgive myself.
I don't think she will ever forgive me either.
And to make everything worse, I only thought about it properly when Olga brought it up a few weeks ago.
"Why haven't I met your younger sister yet? There are so many photos of her here, but I have never even spoken to her."
It was then that everything came crashing down, reality hitting me like a truck, driving 100 kilometres an hour along the highway.
Olga couldn't understand why I was suddenly sobbing into her arms, my words more incoherent than my thoughts. But she held me close and told me one thing.
"If there is something wrong with your little sister, you need to fix it."
Obviously she was right, she didn't need to tell me that.
I felt an enormous surge of guilt explode inside of me, and for once Olga's arms didn't do anything to help me. I don't deserve her comfort, I don't deserve to feel good when I have left my baby sister behind.
Because she is everything to me but I haven't spoken to her in two years.
I don't know how I let it go this far.
~~~~~~
Mapi's voice is scratchy and quiet over the phone, and I could tell something is wrong. She wouldn't tell me what.
"Elena is here with me. I texted Eli but she didn't reply but I needed to tell someone that she is safe and asleep in my spare room. We will take her to the game in the morning."
She didn't say much else, other than that she found my sister at the park after she had taken the bus from home.
But, the look that she gave me at the game the next day told me everything I need to know.
It wasn't angry, really, she just looked confused and hurt. She looked upset as well and I knew exactly what it was about. Because Elena has always loved Mapi, and Mapi has always treated Elena like a little sister.
Elena would have told Mapi something, and even though I don't know what it was, I know it would have been bad enough to make Mapi overthink everything, to realise how awful I have been over the past few years.
I was anxious through the whole game, separated from my best friend by Frido and Jana, trying my best to ignore the looks that Mapi kept sending me.
The looks that were filled with such emotion that I couldn't handle. Emotions that were hard to read because they were filled with so much meaning.
I am too much of a coward to face her and my consequences, I realise, so I ignore it for as long as I can.
But I knew I could not avoid everything when Mami pulled me to the side after the rest of the girls had gone back into the changing rooms, after Alba had gone to the bathroom.
"What are you doing?"
She was furious, and for good reason. But I stay silent, still too scared, too guilty about everything I had done. The only thing on my mind was trying to figure out how I could ever fix this.
"Alexia Putellas! Answer me! What are you doing?"
Her face was almost red, but if I looked hard enough I would have been able to see the tears that dried up in her eyes, never given the chance to slip down her face.
"What do you mean, Mami?"
She rolled her eyes dramatically and scoffed loudly.
"Your baby sister is 15 years old and without any help from you, her older sister, was sitting on the bench for your team. The best team in Europe. She is 15, Alexia! This is such a huge achievement and all she wants is a hug from you, for you to tell her you are proud of her, that you love her. But no. Nothing. Nothing at all from the great Alexia Putellas who cares about nothing but her career!"
Mami's words are a slap in the face, really. Thinking back to them, however, they are the truth. The terrible, painful, horrendous truth.
Not that I don't care about anything but my career, of course, but about how I haven't done anything to help Elena get to where she is.
I pause before responding, debating internally how I should respond.
I could respond with fire, but that would just make Mami even more furious.
So I don't.
"I know she is, Mami! That is why I am about to go do exactly that. I am so, so proud of her but I can't find the words to tell her just how proud I am."
She looks at me for a moment, as if assessing the validity of my statement.
"We are going out to dinner tonight, Alexia. You are coming with us and we are celebrating Elena. Not you, Elena."
I nod, telling her that I will go get Elena and meet her and Alba outside.
Except that doesn't happen, because I see Elena in the changing rooms, but she doesn't seem to want to have anything to do with me.
I see the 15 year old girl laughing and interacting with my team, holding Aitana close and whispering in her ear.
But honestly, the whole scene flipped my insides out. I am not focused on Olga as she chats to me, as she notices how distant I am from reality, moving towards Mapi.
When I do finally speak to my sister, it does not go well. She is cold and I don't know how to get through to her because she is right to not want to talk to me, she is right to stick up for herself. I have messed up and I still have no idea how to fix things. And until I do, she is right to act like this.
So I didn't end up going to their dinner, instead sitting alone in my apartment and staring blankly at my switched off tv, wondering what on earth I can do to fix this mess. To fix this mess that I single handedly created.
It meant that Mami came round late, storming into my apartment, smoke practically billowing from her ears.
"You have messed up, Alexia. She is so upset and it is entirely your fault! You are stupid, you are irresponsible and you have been a terrible sister."
I cowered under her strong gaze but she did not soften. She sat down, placing her head in her hands.
"You are almost 30! You should know better. I have not raised you to be like this, I have not raised you to throw people away without any thought, not caring how it might affect them. She is so confused and so, so upset and it is all because of you. All because you decided a few years ago that you did not have time for her anymore."
"Mami-"
There are tears in my eyes, but Mami can not see them. Mami does not care, she should not care because I did all of this, all by myself.
"No, Alexia. You will tell me what has happened, why you have done this. You have ripped apart our family, Alexia. Alba is practically mourning the destruction of it and I just can not begin to understand why you have decided Elena doesn't mean anything to you any more."
"I haven't decided that!" My yell took my mother off guard and she recoiled. I continued before she could speak again.
"I love her! So much and I am proud of her! I don't know what I have done, Mami and I don't know how to fix this." The tears that filled my eyes began to slip down my face. "I have ruined everything."
My voice broke and Mami softened, looking at me in confusion, some sort of inner turmoil and for the first time in my life, I recognised that she had no idea what to do.
She didn't know what to do as I broke down into sobs, my body practically folding into itself, loud cries wracking through my body.
"I don't know what is wrong with me."
~~~~~~
Mami and I spoke for ages that evening. She convinced me that I should take a step back and let Elena come to me. That I should try and talk to Elena soon to tell her that I love her, that I am proud of her.
But it ended up with another unsuccessful attempt of speaking to Elena. She was in bed and wanted nothing to do with what I wanted to say. I told her everything that Mami told me I should, ignoring the protests of my insides.
I do not want to take a step back because I am already so far away. I want to be there for my sister like I should be, there for a hug or for some assurance. But that is not what I tell her, because apparently, that is not what would be the best for her.
All I want is the best for her.
I want nothing more than to tell her I want to be a part of her life like I used to be, I want things to just go back to normal. But nothing is that easy. I have to face the consequences of all my mistakes.
Huge, terrible, life altering mistakes.
I tried again the next morning, but she ignored me completely, heading up to her room without a single utterance of a word. I could practically hear her exhale in relief as the piano chair creaked and waited until she had begun her playing to walk upstairs and sit by her door.
She has improved at it so much, skyrocketing right past the level that Papi used to play at. The notes rang out at such a pace that I could barely keep track of where the song was going, up, down, fast, slow, loud, soft.
The rhythms flew through the house and I didn't register the warm liquid slipping down my face until it fell with a splat into my lap.
It is painful to realise how much I have missed; how much I miss her.
Her playing is mesmerising and I could feel the emotion that radiates from her and her piano.
It used to be Papi's, but now it is hers.
Because she has grown up into such a talented person and our father would be so proud of her.
Me, I don't think he would be so proud of.
And I hate myself because of it.
The song broke down into soft chords and if I strained my ears I could hear her quiet whimpers. But I can't comfort her any more.
No matter how much I want to.
She will not be comforted by me. She doesn't want me there to comfort her.
So I creep down the stairs and leave. I drive back to my apartment, back to Olga.
At this point, I am used to the constant stream of water on my face.
But there is nobody to blame but myself.
~~~~~~
The next few weeks were equally as painful, despite Olga's efforts to lighten me up. My mood was down when I woke up in the mornings, and only got worse after training, seeing Elena light up when she spoke to my friends but escape every room I entered, cowering when I glanced over at her, leaving conversations as soon as I joined them.
It's like she is scared of me, intimidated by me. I hate it.
Mapi was silent in rehab, which is a big change from the constant stream of chatter I am used to. I don't think she knows what to say to me anymore, knowing what I have done.
I wouldn't know what to say to me either.
It is Vicky approaches me one day after training. We are all sat in the changing rooms when wanders over and asks for help with her homework. It is maths, and I tell her with a laugh that I will be no help at all, but she persists, opening her book and pointing at the maths equations, confusion written all over her face.
I help her as much as I can, laughing at the drawings she has scrawled out on her page, explaining the trigonometry to her as she stares at me intensely. It takes a while, but she gets it eventually, finally answering a question correctly.
"Nice, Vicky! So much better, so quickly!"
Mapi stands up from across the room, grabbing her bag and storming out of the room, slamming the door behind her.
From where they are sitting in quiet conversation, my sister and Aitana look up at the door, their eyes scanning the room. Aitana's eyes land on me first and she rolls them dramatically, shaking her head in what looks like disgust.
"Vicky, I did that yesterday. I can help you."
Elena's voice is level, but I can see confusion in her eyes at the scene that had just unfolded.
Vicky sighs in relief, closing her book and walking across the room to Elena.
"I forgot you were smart!" She beams, plonking herself down on the seat beside my sister and they both dive into the world of mathematics.
Aitana is standing up by now, her bag over her shoulder.
"Alexia, can I speak to you outside?" Her voice is steady as she continues. "There is something wrong with my dribbling and I would like some help."
It is a lie and everyone knows it. There is never anything wrong with Aitana's dribbling.
But I pick up my bag, following the shorter midfielder out the door, immediately faced by Mapi who stands there, anger all over her face.
"What the hell are you doing?" Her voice is low and her words come out as a whisper, full of venom. Full of anger.
It is something I am not used to from Mapi and it takes me off guard. My hesitance gives her the chance to continue.
"Helping Vicky Lopez with her maths when you don't have the first clue whether Elena is even at school. Elena, your sister."
"She goes to school."
My voice is full of confidence, but Mapi is right, I don't even know how she manages to fit it all in. I don't know the first thing about her timetable.
She rolls her eyes, scoffing.
"Do you understand just how much damage you have done?"
I nod, inhaling and exhaling deeply.
"She hates me, I know. I have ruined everything. It is all my fault."
Mapi nods, but it is Aitana who speaks next.
"She doesn't even hate you, Alexia. It just shows how much she loves you. You have done all this and she still loves you, still would do absolutely anything to get your approval, your attention."
I blink to stop the tears and bite the insides of my mouth to stop it from trembling.
"She has been begging for you to notice how hard she has been working. How well she is doing. But you do not, you don't see her, it is like you are blind! And then Vicky Lopez gets a maths question right and you give her more praise than you give Elena for being selected in this team, for working hard, for being so, so incredible."
If Aitana wasn't whispering to keep this conversation from the ears of the people in the room we just left, she would be fully yelling, her face red and her eyes narrow.
"She is perfect, Alexia, and it is so sad because you just can't see it, you can't see how good she is, how smart, how kind, caring. And it makes me so, so angry because you have changed her so much in the past few years, and not in a good way."
Mapi puts her hand on Aitana's arm, trying to get her to stop. Mapi knows me well, and knows when I am about to break.
But the usually stoic midfielder has tears in her eyes when she continues, her voice softening and breaking at the same time.
"She was such a happy little girl, so excited by everything. She loves you so much and she always looked up to you. But now she is insecure, she is lonely, isolated. She is confused and feels like she needs to fight for validation every day. Everyone has pressure on them in this team, especially when they are young, new blood. Coming from La Masia and the B team you should know this, Alexia. You should know about the pressure better than anyone because I do too. But your sister? She has it worse than anyone because she has all that, but she is your sister. Alexia Putellas, two time Ballon d'Or winner. She has to live up to that in some way and is trying to hard to do it without anyone's help. She is only 15, Alexia. 15."
Aitana stops, but I am not sure whether it is because she has nothing more to say or if it is because she is too upset. She is silenced by weak tears, shaking her head as Mapi places a soft arm around her shoulder.
"She is right, Alexia." Mapi's voice is soft and she looks at me with that same concerned glint in her eye. "And I don't know what is going on with you, but whatever it is, it needs to be fixed. You have made some significant damage and if you don't do something about it, it will all become irreparable."
"I don't know what to do." It is a cry for help, and it is all I can say without letting my tears escape from me once more.
Because Aitana's words are nothing I don't know, but the fact that she is saying them, that she feels the need to tell me all that, is enough to tell me that it is not clear to anyone that I already know.
Because I have been a bad sister, I am not denying it.
And I am guilty, I feel absolutely terrible.
Mami said to leave her alone, let her come to me, but I don't think that was her best advice any more, because my sister is struggling.
She is struggling and I am only making it worse.
But I can't do anything about it.
When she was little, she would be the person I would go to when I needed to be cheered up. She would make me smile, laugh, feel better about myself and the world around me. Her small arms would wrap around me, her chubby fingers would wipe my tears from my face and she would chatter and giggle into my ears until I was smiling again.
She was the light in our household when Papi died, but I think that was partially because she didn't understand what was happening.
We avoided his study like it had the plague, she would go and sit on the piano stall, practicing the songs he had taught her.
She gave us endless cuddles, basking in our attention, her heart set on making us feel better, on putting a smile back on our faces.
She made the darkest time of our lives bearable, she helped me get through the hardest times of my life.
And this... this is how I repay her.
"Ale... Alexia? Ale." Mapi's hand is on my shoulder and Aitana looks at me curiously.
"Stop, just... stop." My voice is soft, and Mapi's eyes soften as I slide down the wall behind me. "I just... I don't know what to do."
Mapi sits down beside me, perhaps thinking that maybe she had been too harsh.
"I had Elena over yesterday." Mapi's voice is quiet. "She said... she said she misses you, Alexia. And that... she said you told her you were going to take a step back. She thinks you already did. She doesn't want that. She just wants you."
"But I have ruined everything, Maria. This is all my fault." A singular tear finds itself on my cheek and Mapi places an arm around me.
"You're right, you made so many mistakes. But I know you, I know you love her. She means everything to you. And she loves you as well, Ale. I know you two can get through this, but she is struggling to stay afloat with all this pressure and no support. Aitana and I... we need to look out for her because your Mami works all the time and she doesn't want to burden Alba with her problems and ruin her life. We need to be there for her at the moment because the poor girl is crumbling."
I wish she would realise that I am crumbling too.
Olga is always there to hold me, to calm me down, but as much as she tries, she can't understand what is going on with Elena. She doesn't know Elena, which I know is my fault.
But Mami is angry with me, so is Alba. For good reason.
And Mapi is my best friend, but she needs to be there for Elena.
All I want to do is cry out for help, but I know I can not because I caused it.
"I am taking Elena out this afternoon." Aitana speaks up from where she has been stood silently. "I will talk to her again, we will work on it. I'm going to go now, but Alexia, if you need to, you can talk to any one of us."
I nod at her, trying to muster a smile onto my face as she walks back into the changing room.
"Mapi, you are my best friend."
She nods.
"You will be honest?"
She nods again.
"Do you think this is fixable? Do you think I've ruined my chance of ever getting my Lena back?"
She rests her head on my shoulder.
"I hope so. I miss seeing the smiles on both of your faces and truthfully, I don't think that Elena will thrive here if she keeps going on like this. She needs support, from you, your Mami and your sister and I don't really think she is getting it."
"But Mami and Alba are there for her!" I find myself getting defensive of my family.
"I know they are, but she needs more than that at the moment. She has been skipping school because nobody is home to tell her to go to it, she has been skipping meals because nobody is home to eat with her. She doesn't sleep properly, she doesn't eat properly. It is not your mother's fault that she has to work, or Alba's fault that Elena doesn't want to burden her, but she needs more support than she is getting."
My brain is telling me that Mapi is wrong, that my sister is fine, that my family is fine. But in my heart, I know she is right. And it makes me feel sick.
Because if it wasn't for me being such a terrible sister, such a terrible person, Elena would not be struggling so much. She would not need Mami or Alba as much as she does, she would be thriving in this environment.
But she is not.
The pressure is something I only really felt when I got older, when I had thicker skin. I had a force of people around me to fall back on, to get support from. But Elena has so much pressure building on her at 15, with less experience, with less people to support her.
And the pressure will keep building and building on top of her, until it is so high that everything falls over, falling down on top of her until she breaks.
As if reading my mind, Mapi continues after her pause.
"And if she does crumble under all this pressure, she will need so much support. Aitana and I will be there for her, if nobody else is."
~~~~~~
hope you enjoyed :)
Will probably be back to elena's perspective next chapter, just thought it'd be easier to write this in a different one
#woso#woso fanfics#barca femeni#fcb femení#woso imagine#alexia putellas#fcb femeni#mapi leon#aitana bonmati#alexia putellas x reader
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AITA For taking down my cousin's pride flag?
So my cousin is the most no-nonsense person Ive ever met. He (M28) is very serious, and takes everything really really seriously, but he's still a joy to be around. He's super smart, and the whole family adores him, he's kind of the golden child in our family, though theres zero resentment from the rest of us.
My whole life, he's been this pillar of the "perfect kid" and although he's nice, since he's moved away, no one has been to his apartment or really seen him outside of family celebrations, dinners, weddings, etc.
Last week, he was in a car accident. (another car T boned him) and he was put in an induced coma in the hospital. He's coming out of it now, expected to make a full recovery, but is still expected to stay at the hospital for a while. My aunt, his mother (F72) asked me and other cousins to go over to his house and collect items he might need. Clothes, books, etc. She took the keys out of his clothes and have them to us, all while my cousin was still out of it.
When we got there, I opened the door to a MASSIVE Gay leather pride flag.
First thing on the wall. When we went into the apartment there was BDSM equipment, gay pride decorations everywhere, and other graphic things that made it clear my cousin is, A, gay, and B, firmly in the kink community. I don't want to get too much into it, but there were certain Polaroid pictures stapled to the bathroom wall that left little doubt.
All of us were needless to say, a little horrified.
To be clear, I am queer, and a MAJORITY of our cousins are as well. None of us had any inclination he is gay, and its clear no one else in the family knows. This was the first time anyone had been in his apartment.
We took a vote, and as the oldest one there I made the decision to hide everything. I took the flag down, I (carefully) put as much of the items that were an indication away in a box and hid them. It was a pretty extensive clean out, but I moved books and other things around on the walls to make it look a little less bare. An hour after that more family showed up at the apartment to help, people like our grandmother, more aunts and uncles and my parents, all of them cleaning or doing dishes or putting food in the fridge to help my cousin's recovery.
A few of the cousins that were there when we first found the stuff have said that I shouldnt have messed with any of it, that the pride flag was on the wall BECAUSE my cousin was happy about his identity. I argued that my cousin hadn't told any of us, isn't out to the family as far as Im aware, and I wanted to protect him in case he wasn't ready.
Further clarification, no one in the family is OUTWARDLY homophobic, but I'm still not out to a majority of my family either, and if i was in my cousin's place, Id want someone to hide my stuff for me.
My cousin still hasn't been released from the hospital, and I haven't found time alone with him to tell him that I moved some stuff in his apartment. When I handed back his keys he looked a little panicked, and I tried to look reassuring.
Im having second thoughts about whether what I did was good, or if I'm projecting my own fear about coming out to family on him. Am I the asshole?
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Naked in Manhattan
Summary: Marcus has never slept with a man, Dieter's willing to remedy that - written for @romanarose Pride Event Week 3: Sex/kissing
Word Count: 7,730
Pairing: (college aged) Marcus Pike x Dieter Bravo
Rating: 18+ mdni
Warnings: coming out, discussions of sexuality, brief mentions of homophobia, oral sex(m), (lots of) hickeys, frottage, cum eating, armpit stuff
Betas: OBVIOUSLY @for-a-longlongtime and @perotovar the loves of my life 💖A/N: I highly suggest listening to Naked in Manhattan by Chappell Roan before/while reading this. Totally got the vibes of this entire fic by listening to it on a walk one day
Dieter’s learned a lot in his five and a half years of college. Not really much about statistics or geology, but about people. He’s been around long enough to know that the sad little guy on his front porch steps, avoiding the party, and chain smoking cigarettes is having a rough go of it.
“Hey buddy,” Dieter says, quietly, as not to startle the slumped figure.
Marcus looks up at him through misty eyes and a cloud of stale Winston smoke.
“Hey.”
He’s not crying, but he’s definitely crying for help.
“You okay?”
Dieter takes a seat on the step below him.
“Yeah, fine. Just needed air.”
Marcus gestures with the cigarette in his hand, then huffs out a laugh at the irony.
“You’ve been getting drunk a lot lately.”
Maybe Dieter shouldn’t pry. It’s not unusual for his rented house to be filled with students coming and going at all hours of the day, between classes on weekdays or all day on the weekends. The cheap beer just shows up, as does the weed, and he doesn’t usually question it.
But he’s closer to Marcus. So he notices more. He usually only sees him here on weekends. During the week he’s commonly found in the library or the student union, books sprawled out in front of him. He’s driven, pre-law, and has a better head on his shoulders than most people he hangs with.
But Marcus has been at his place every night this week, either stumbling home in the wee hours of the morning or sleeping late on his couch or floor. It concerns Dieter in a way that surprises him.
Usually it’s none of his business.
“I haven’t had a sip,” Marcus tells him.
And his voice doesn’t have that sharp, defensive tone Dieter was expecting. It’s more defeated than anything.
“Yeah but what about last night?”
Marcus shrugs.
“And the night before? And every other night this week?”
“Just having fun,” Marcus mumbles through another drag of his cigarette.
Dieterlooks around at his empty porch.
“Are you?”
Then Marcus laughs. It bubbles up out of him in an almost terrifying way, and damn near immediately turns into sobs hidden behind his hands.
“Fuck, dude, are you tripping?”
Marcus shakes his head. Dieter didn’t think so. He’s strictly an alcohol guy, won’t even touch weed. Something about the FBI and polygraph tests. Dieter finds it charming if not a bit manic.
He keeps crying though, so hard he has to flick his cigarette out onto the dimly lit street so he can rub at his eyes.
Dieter’s not sure what to do. Normally he’d offer someone drugs, but that won’t work.
His hand hovers over Marcus’ shaking back for a few moments before he rests a heavy palm between his shoulder blades.
He can feel the way Marcus’ breath shudders out of him, and tells him to start taking slow breaths. When it works, Dieter’s kind of amazed at how great he is at damage control.
“That’s it man, just breathe.”
Marcus nods, finally removes his hands from his face. He’s always been pretty in a very preppy way, with his perfect hair and teeth and his little dimples. He looks even prettier now, as much as Dieter kicks himself for that thought. His face is red and wet and his brown eyes are wider than they’ve ever been before.
A few deep breaths in through his nose and out his mouth later, Marcus is sufficiently calm enough to speak.
“I’m sorry.”
Dieter waves him off.
“Don’t be. Looks like it felt good, I might have a cry later too.”
Marcus lets out a wet chuckle and shuts his eyes as one last salty little droplet brushes past his long eyelashes.
“Everything okay at home? You’re not failing a class, are you?”
“No, no, nothing like that. It’s stupid.”
“Girl problems?”
Marcus laughs again, and Dieter startles a little, afraid he’s going to start back up sobbing at any moment.
He doesn’t though. He’s quiet and avoiding Dieter’s gaze as he frantically gets another cigarette from his pack and lights it up.
Dieter thinks he’s hit the nail on the head until Marcus takes a long drag of his cigarette and exhales.
“I’m fucking gay.”
Dieter opens his mouth in shock, or understanding, or maybe to try and say something, but Marcus continues.
“This whole time I’ve been gay. I don’t even— I’ve had so many girlfriends. I think they’re just nice. I’ve never— I fucking hated sleeping with them. I thought it was because it was awkward, and we’re all inexperienced? It sucked, Dieter. And I thought all guys were curious about other guys, you know? They all talk about their dicks with each other, since middle school. I just thought— and then there’s this guy… in my intro to psych class. And he’s so nice and handsome and I just always want to hang out with him. And I didn’t know why. But I want to kiss him. And I never felt that way about any of my girlfriends. And now I realize I’ve just— I’ve just been gay this whole time.”
He’s out of breath when he quits talking, but he sucks down more of his cigarette anyway. Dieter isn’t quite sure what to say to him. Usually when someone comes out to him, it’s in a less… frantic manner, more proud than anything. But this poor freshman has been on a gay crisis bender all week and is more than a little traumatized by all of it, and it’s just different with Marcus.
“That’s um… Sounds like you’ve been going through a rough time with it.”
Marcus sniffles and nods.
“Been through all five or whatever stages of grief already. It’s been a long week.”
“Are you… Upset? That you’re gay?”
Marcus’ head lolls back to thump against the porch railing.
“No… I’m more upset that I didn't figure it out until now.”
“You’re still plenty young, Marcus. You’re what— nineteen?”
“Eighteen. Skipped a grade.”
Jesus. Dieter feels even worse now about thinking he’s pretty when he cries.
“See? You’re a spring chicken, dude. You figured it out plenty quick.”
“When did you know?”
Dieter chews on his lip, considers lying just for Marcus’ sake, but decides against it.
“I pretty much always knew, honestly. But I mean— I was weird anyway, you know? Never really fit in or felt I had to play a certain part or be a certain way. It just made sense. Also, my dad always said I was as queer as a three dollar bill so… that helped.”
Dieter steals the cigarette between Marcus’ fingers to take a drag himself.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“Nothing to be sorry for, man,” Dieter tells him.
Marcus stares at where Dieter’s lips wrap around his cigarette for a bit too long, and Dieter hands it back, if only to try and stop whatever it is that’s bound to happen next.
But Marcus takes another drag himself, and his tongue peeks out to wet his bottom lip, and Dieter has never been called strong-willed.
“What’s it like?”
“What?”
“To be with a guy? What’s it like?”
Dieter shrugs.
“Depends on the guy.”
Marcus sighs.
“Are you uh— how do you like… it?”
“Are you asking if I’m a top or a bottom?”
Marcus’s face flushes a cute color in the yellow of the porch lights.
“Both,” Dieter shrugs, “but I haven’t really done that with a lot of guys. Kind of a hassle, you know?”
Marcus nods, but then his brow quirks up in question.
“What do you mean? What do you— what do you do, then?”
Dieter chuckles.
“All kinds of things, babe.”
He watches Marcus’ breath catch, the little stutter of his chest.
“Would you show me?”
Dieter rolls his eyes to distract them both from the fact that he really, really wants to.
“C’mon, man. You don’t wanna fool around with me. I’m a loser. Go find a pretty finance boy to shack up with.”
Maybe he’s less weak-willed than he thought.
Marcus’ shoulders slump again, and christ, though, is he supposed to just let him leave like a kicked puppy?
“There’s no intro to psych guy.”
It’s quiet, mumbled around his cigarette, and his eyes won’t leave his feet.
“What?”
“It’s you, okay? You’re my— gay awakening, or whatever. Why do you think I’ve been here all week?”
Dieter’s heart is hammering against his chest at that admission. This was not how he figured his Friday night would go.
“Free beer?”
His joke doesn’t land. Marcus rolls his eyes.
“It’s not like… I’m not like in love with you or anything. I just… always wanna see you. And you’re— well, you know. You’re hot. And you’re really nice to everyone. And I get this… I feel so weird when I’m around you, like, nauseous. Fuck, I’m sorry.”
Marcus flicks yet another cigarette to the curb and makes to get up, but before Dieter can think better of it, he grips him on the shoulder to keep him seated.
“That’s… actually really sweet, Marcus.”
He scoffs, hides his face in his hands, and it’s so cute Dieter can’t help but smile.
“Really— Usually people just want to fuck me, or use me for drugs.”
Marcus groans a little, mortified, and his hands run back to mess up his pristinely styled hair.
“Buddy, I’m serious. You’re a little charmer.”
Marcus looks up from his lap at that, scratching that neatly buzzed hair on the back of his neck, and his eyes are a little less embarrassed and a little more twinkly.
“You’re just saying that.”
Dieter shakes his head grinning.
“No, it’s cute. Being genuine is never a bad thing.”
And the thing is, Dieter’s not lying. It’s possibly the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to him. But he’s toeing a very very fine line here, with himself. Because Marcus is so pretty, and so smart, and he’s soft and kind and he’s real but he’s young.
And Dieter’s just a Super Super Senior, a total burnout, on his way to holding the world record for The Longest College Career. He’s 23 and he’s still undecided and he probably won’t even get a college degree after all is said and done.
But Marcus is looking at him with those big brown eyes, watching, calculating.
“I just— I feel like you wouldn’t judge me. If I did the wrong thing. You know?”
“I wouldn’t. Anyone who would isn’t worth your time.”
Marcus huffs. Maybe Dieter can still save this.
“Would you… tell me? What you’d do? What I should do?”
And just like that, Dieter is hopping right over that line with both feet.
“Kiss me.”
Marcus’ eyes grow even bigger.
“Like, right now? Here?”
“If you want to. That’s what I’d want you to do, to kiss me right here, like you couldn’t help yourself.”
And Dieter will be damned if he doesn’t do just that, surging forward to grab the sides of his face and press their lips together.
His lips are so soft, and his face is smooth, and he’s eager, a bit too much, but it only adds to that coincidental charm. Dieter’s left to catch up, as Marcus swipes his tongue along the seam of his mouth and groans.
Dieter pulls away. Marcus’ mouth gapes open, and his shoulders heave with his fast breaths.
“You’re so… scruffy.”
Dieter chuckles, wipes Marcus’ spit from his lips and straightens out his mustache.
“Not good?”
“No, god no, it’s really good.”
And then Marcus smashes their lips together again as a pathetic little sound escapes his throat. Dieter opens his mouth this time, lets Marcus slide his tongue around, a little violent, and this is all a bit too much for some front porch steps, isn’t it?
“Hey,” Dieter says softly, pulling away.
Marcus’ brows draw up in confusion.
“Sorry. I’m not a good kisser, am I?”
Dieter sighs, grabs one of Marcus’ hands on his face to link their fingers together.
“It’s not that,” he says.
He turns his face to kiss the center of Marcus’ palm and smiles when his breath hitches.
“You really wanna do this with me?”
Marcus is nodding before Dieter even finishes speaking.
“Only if you really want it, too.”
Dieter squeezes his hand.
“I do, really.”
Marcus smiles the sweetest little smile, and they both stand up, and Dieter doesn’t let his hand go.
There’s music on in the house, and it smells like weed, and a few people are playing Nintendo in the living room. They don’t pay any mind as Dieter pulls Marcus up to the second floor, down the hall, and into his dimly lit bedroom.
At least he’s kept it semi-tidy, he thinks, as Marcus looks around while he shuts and locks the door. His bed isn’t made. He’s sure Marcus makes his bed every morning before class. He hopes he doesn’t mind.
He seems like he’s too nervous to mind, a jittery little thing standing next to his bed. He’s fiddling with the hem of his shirt, staring holes into the stained carpet, when Dieter moves to stand in front of him.
“Are you nervous?”
“No. Maybe. I don’t know.”
Dieter grabs both of his hands, and Marcus finally meets his gaze.
“It’s okay to be nervous. As long as it’s good nervous.”
He smiles and nods, but the worry in his brow is still there.
“We won’t do anything you don’t wanna do, okay?”
That seems to soothe him more.
“Can we kiss again?”
Dieter chuckles.
“Of course we can.”
Marcus tips over into him, landing at the side of his mouth but quickly correcting course. He licks, but Dieter keeps his mouth shut, goading him to calm down. And he does, slotting his lips around Dieter's bottom one, and everything else slips into place with a soft, satisfied noise from his own chest.
He lets go of Marcus’ sweaty hands to grab his hips instead, lithe and a little bony. He twitches at the touch, sighs, and presses his lips harder into Dieter’s. His hands search around frantically, jostling them both, until he finds the hem of Dieter’s sweatshirt and gets his hands underneath.
“Slow,” Dieter mumbles.
“Hm?”
“Not a race, Marcus. Take your time. Enjoy it.”
Marcus nods, but gapes at him, like he’s not quite sure what to do next.
“You wanna get comfy? Take your shoes off, sit down?”
Marcus nods again, but with a little direction, takes his shoes off and sits on the bed, criss-cross applesauce like the cutest fucking thing Dieter’s ever seen.
“I want this to be— I want you to have a good time, feel good. So tell me if you don’t feel good… or if there’s anything you wanna try. Communication is like, super sexy, right?”
Dieter sheds his shoes and his hoodie as he speaks, thinks he catches Marcus’ eyes staring at the spot between his signature pajama pants and his shirt where it rides up.
“Yeah… like, dirty talk?”
Dieter huffs out a laugh as he sits facing Marcus, crossing his legs, mirroring him to make him as comfortable as possible.
“Could be dirty talk, yeah. But just normal talk, too. It can be hot to talk about things like… how do you like to be touched? Where?”
Marcus clears his throat and scratches the back of his head with a puzzled look on his face.
“My— my dick?”
Dieter wants to laugh, but he can’t blame the guy. It sounds like the only experience he’s had so far is rushed fucks with high school sweethearts.
“Okay, yeah, that’s a good start. So, for me, I like being kissed. Everywhere. I like feeling lips on my jaw and my neck and especially my nipples. You can bite, too.”
Marcus’ eyebrows raise, his plush lips forming a circular shape that Dieter tries and fails not to focus on.
“Oh, yeah, okay. I— I like that too. I like when it’s… sloppy.”
Dieter hums, smiles, and nods.
“Anything else you like?”
He watches Marcus bite his bottom lip and trace shapes on the bedsheets between them.
“I don’t really know.”
“That’s okay. Maybe we can figure it out together, yeah?”
His long eyelashes flutter as he blinks real slow, and he smiles.
“Yeah. Thank you.”
Dieter does chuckle then.
“You don’t need to thank me. I’m gonna have a lot of fun with you.”
Christ, Dieter thinks, if his face gets any more red he might burst into flames.
He kisses him, to save him from a fiery death. It’s a little awkward, with both of their legs crossed in front of them, but it’s easier to take their time like this.
Marcus keeps it slow, so Dieter can finally lead. He licks into his mouth to feel his hard palate, and the way he whimpers and shivers in response is so delicious that Dieter can’t help but to do it again and again.
He feels long fingers grip his thighs, soft at first, but squeezing harder when Marcus returns the favor and scrapes his tastebuds along Dieter’s sharp canines.
There’s twin sighs when Marcus pulls away, only a little, eyes still shut.
“You’re really fucking good at this,” he mumbles.
Dieter hums and pecks his lips again, soft and wet.
“Could kiss you all night.”
It’s true, even though there’s also a million other things he wants to do with Marcus. He tries to push those wants down by kissing him again, getting that plump bottom lip between his teeth and nibbling on it. The noise Marcus makes has his cock filling steadily with blood, and he knows it’s very obvious in his pajama pants, and he hopes Marcus doesn’t freak out.
Like he’s reading Dieter’s mind, Marcus’ hands slide so fucking slowly up his thighs. The movements are jerky, and he hesitates when just the tip of his finger brushes his cock. His inhale is audible, but his curious touch proceeds, just the lightest ghosting across his shaft.
But then he’s pulling away, and Dieter feels on edge, bracing himself for the worst.
“Can I touch it?”
Dieter exhales his relief.
“You can… Are you open to suggestions, though?”
Marcus nods, his slick mouth hanging open.
“You could get on top of me, let me feel how much you like this, too. Drag it out, make me really want it.”
He smirks as Marcus curses, closing his eyes and pressing his palm to the front of his jeans. But he nods, and uncrosses his legs, so Dieter does the same.
And then, he’s got a lapful of Marcus, and he’s staring up into his glassy, beautiful eyes.
“Like this?”
His hips shift, and his pert little ass grinds against Dieter’s cock while his own presses against his belly.
“Just like that. Is this still okay?”
Marcus doesn’t answer him, just devours his lips again as he rocks his hips and supplies them both with heady friction. His little whimpers are muffled, and his teeth are sinking into Dieter’s lip a little too hard, but in a way that makes his cock throb and pulse against the tight ass against it.
Dieter’s hands find those lithe hips again, this time under his shirt. His skin is scalding to the touch and so fucking smooth. He digs his thumbs into his hip bones, drags little circles into them that make his hips jolt and stutter.
Fuck. He likes this a lot. Maybe too much. He pulls himself away to reel it in a bit, maybe to check and make sure this is still alright—
“I’m so fucking hard,” Marcus breathes, “I’ve never felt like this.”
And as he speaks, he’s ripping his t-shirt over his head and flinging it elsewhere.
He’s gorgeous. A little scrawny but smooth, everywhere, just miles of tan skin that’s paler here where it gets no sun. Dieter wants to bite, and kiss, and suckle on every fucking inch of it.
For now, Dieter uses all of his brain power to mumble a distracted ‘me too,’ as his hands moved upward to splay across all that hairless skin.
Marcus’ stomach tenses and relaxes under his hands, and his chest heaves as Dieter cradles his ribs and brushes his thumbs over his nipples.
“Does this feel good?”
He circles them, flicks them a little bit, and wants to curl up and live in that little gasp Marcus makes.
“Yes.”
His head is leaning back between his shoulders, all raised and on-edge. That’s not what Dieter wants. He wants him relaxed, wants him all gooey and loose.
Slowly, gently, Dieter tips him over, a hand on the back of his head until it lands on the pillows. The look in his eyes gets a little squirrely, and his breath picks up, and his nails scrabble at Dieter’s bicep.
“Is this still okay?”
Marcus nods quickly, but he’s slower with the verbal response.
“I think so… just nervous.”
“Still good nervous?”
As if to prove it, he cants his hips up into Dieter and he’s rock hard against his thigh.
“Still good nervous.”
Dieter’s own prick throbs and twitches as he hums. He lowers himself even more over Marcus, finds his racing pulse point and plants a hot, wet kiss there.
“Can I kiss you here?” he whispers.
His chin brushes Dieter’s cheek when he nods, and Marcus relocates his hands to reach up the back of his shirt. His palms are sweaty and hot as Dieter trails a wet line of kisses down to his prominent collar bone.
His skin is so salty, and the heat from his body is making his cheap cologne smell even stronger, and Dieter feels high even though he hasn’t smoked in hours.
“How about here, Marcus?”
He looks up at the younger man as he hovers his mouth above one tiny, pebbled nipple. He watches as his adam’s apple bobs in his throat, and smiles and impish grin when Marcus nods again.
The groan he receives when he closes his mouth around it has him pressing his hips to the mattress for relief. One of Marcus’ hands finds Dieter’s hair and grips.
“Ah fuck.”
Just like that, the fingers loosen and leave his head and Dieter actually whines at the loss.
“Sorry!”
“No, no, that was a good fuck. Love getting my hair pulled.”
Dieter glances back up at Marcus and watches as his wheels turn.
“Oh… really?”
He chuckles as he places a sloppy kiss on his sternum, delighted at the way the muscles twitch under his lips.
“Mmmhmm.”
Marcus sighs as Dieter finds his other nipple.
“My ex-girlfriend hated it.”
Dieter nips at the hard bud in his mouth and smirks when Marcus’ hips jolt up.
“I like a little pain with my pleasure,” he explains.
“I— can you bite me again?”
Dieter curses and obliges immediately, sinking his teeth into the meat of his pec this time.
“God, I like that.”
He even earns another tug at his hair, and Dieter knows there’s gotta be a damp spot on the front of his pajamas.
“That’s so good, Marcus. Keep telling me what you like.”
Marcus squirms under him as he alternates a string of kisses and licks and bites down his torso. His nails scratch Dieter’s scalp in between tugging on his hair, and this is the most fun Dieter’s had in the bedroom in a long while.
Marcus has a tiny bit of hair below his belly button, and it’s so fucking cute and whispy when Dieter runs his tongue along the path. But before Dieter can get the fly of his jeans unfastened, Marcus holds a hand over his.
“Can I try on you now?”
Dieter’s gaze flickers up to his face, and he looks so sweet, pleading with his big puppy eyes.
“Yeah, yes, of course you can.”
Marcus smiles, and it’s sure, like he’s finally settled into this, and it makes Dieter’s apprehension fall away.
It also makes him that much more horny, hard as ever when he lies down with his head on the pillows. He reaches down to readjust and watches Marcus clock the movement with a heady look.
“This is good for you, too?”
His voice is breathy when he asks, when his hand slips under Dieter’s t-shirt.
“Marcus, I’m loving this. I feel like a sexy experiment. Poke and prod me, babe.”
And through all of this newness and anxiety and apprehension, Marcus laughs. It’s music to Dieter’s ears, watching his eyes light up as he chuckles.
“Take this off then,” he instructs through his laughter.
“Yes sir,” Dieter purrs, “bossing me around also does it for me. You’re a natural already.”
“Y-yeah? I don’t— I’ve never been like that.”
Dieter fumbles to back track at the way Marcus’ confidence falls away.
“It’s okay, that’s an advanced lesson. My bad. Just— Just do what you want with me. Explore. I’m all yours.”
He talks as he sheds his shirt, and when the damned thing finally pulls free, he feels a little scrutinized under Marcus’s wide eyes. And he kinda really likes it.
He settles back against the mattress, one arm above his head while the other reaches out to encourage Marcus to come closer. He does, only a little timid as his gaze rakes over every inch of his body.
He settles between Dieter’s spread legs, one hand dipping the mattress next to him while the other lands hesitantly on his flank. His warm, sweaty palm feels the skin there, draws upward toward his chest, but takes a completely unconventional detour to his armpit.
Dieter’s cock throbs. This is so fucking weird and so fucking hot.
Marcus’ jaw drops slack as his fingers card through all of his armpit hair, and it tickles a little bit, but mostly it just makes Dieter’s arousal grow heavy in his groin, burning.
Before Dieter can really assess what’s going on, or encourage him, or tell him how fucking hard he’s making him, Marcus leans down to capture his lips in his own.
Dieter groans and scrabbles to grip his waist, arching his hips for any relief and finding it against the front of Marcus’ jeans, a hard line wrapped in denim that twitches against his own. He moans, low and long, as he twirls the thick hair between his finger and thumb.
And then his hand is gone, and Dieter’s quite disappointed, but he can’t just say that, can he? He weighs the pros and cons of telling Marcus not to stop as the other man trails his lips down the patchy stubble on his jaw, and bites the sensitive skin on his neck.
Maybe he should tell him. That’s a good lesson, right? How to take feedback, good or bad. But ‘hey keep stroking my armpit hair’ is a bit startling, isn’t it?
He’s so distracted by the inner turmoil that he doesn’t realize the path Marcus’ has taken until hot breath ghosts that bit of fat between his tit and armpit and then he sniffs, and groans, and licks up all the hair while he presses his cock down into Dieter’s own and Jesus Fuck—
He quickly finds purchase in Marcus’ hair and curses, grinds his hips back up into him with what he hopes is encouraging words. But forgive him if his brain is a little bit completely scrambled.
Marcus bites just under his patch of armpit hair, burying his nose in it once more, and these primal sounds he makes are vibrating through Dieter’s chest. All he can do at this point is lie back and take it and succumb to the fact that this is definitely altering his brain chemistry for the rest of his life.
It all stops rather abruptly, though, and two hot hands grab Dieter’s hips hard, pushes them down into the mattress as Marcus arches away from him.
“I might— I might come.”
Dieter blinks his bleary eyes open to look at the panicked man, who’s squeezing his eyes shut and biting his lip.
“It’s okay if you do. You can have me all night.”
“Fuck— Shut up, Jesus Christ.”
Dieter huffs, scratches at his wet armpit, and patiently waits for Marcus to settle down. He could probably come that way too, to be honest, with that pretty boy’s tongue lapping at his underarm and their cocks grinding together.
Marcus’ eyelashes flutter open, and Dieter smiles at him softly, careful not to move or touch. He looks like a hair trigger, sweaty and panting already, with a really fucking hot damp patch soaking through the crotch of his jeans.
“Sorry. I think I’m good— wait, sorry, was that weird?”
Dieter allows himself to place one of his hands on Marcus’ own, where it’s still gripping tight to his hip bone.
“It was weird in the hottest way possible.”
Marcus shakes his head at himself and closes his eyes again.
“I’m dead serious. I didn’t know how sensitive I was there. You’re teaching me things. That’s super hot.”
Marcus sighs.
“It’s just… I like the hair. And your deodorant smells nice.”
He pries his eyes open, like he expects Dieter to be disgusted, but his confession only makes his cock jump very prominently in his pajamas.
“Doesn’t taste very good, though.”
And now Dieter is laughing, and tugging Marcus back down, mumbling ‘prove it’ and shoving his tongue into his offensively chemical-flavored mouth.
It’s okay though, he just licks and licks until the taste has dissipated and Marcus is letting go of the death grip on his sides. His mouth follows a much more predictable route, this time, and Dieter watches his every move as those pretty lips wrap around his nipples, one and then the other, until he’s biting and Dieter is whimpering and asking for more.
“You can leave marks. I like ‘em.”
Marcus curses against his sternum and obeys, so fucking obedient, suckling Dieter’s skin and rolling it between his teeth. Looking up at him, his eyes look so determined, all dark and heavy, especially when he pulls away to admire the bruise he’s left.
“More. Want to see you all over me in the morning.”
“Fuck, Dieter. How’d you get so good at— at talking like that?”
Dieter chuckles, then hisses when Marcus sucks the skin on his belly into the sharp edges of his teeth. He’s looking up with an expectant quirk of his brow.
“I just say what’s on my mind,” he answers.
Marcus hums, and Dieter places his hand on his jaw to feel it working, a third mark blooming bright red on his hip.
“What’s on your mind?” He asks.
A fourth mark, this one deeper than the rest, right above the waistband of his pants, as Marcus thinks.
“I want your cock in my mouth.”
Said cock jerks wildly, disrupting the tent in his pajamas, and Marcus has the audacity to smirk. Dieter lets his thumb trace that wet, swollen bottom lip and doesn’t miss the little whine that Marcus tries to hide.
“Will you teach me?”
It’s now that Dieter realizes he’s created an absolute monster, with Marcus looking up at him all wide-eyed, batting those long eyelashes. He knows what he’s doing, and it just makes it all so much worse. Or better. Both, really.
He clears his throat to try to gather his bearings before he speaks.
“Yeah, I’ll teach you. Pull it out for me.”
Dieter watches as his breath hitches, and he eyes the tent in Dieter’s pants with an array of emotions washing over his features. There’s hesitation for sure, as he toys with his waistband. But he’s licking his lips, and taking a big deep breath as he tugs them down Dieter’s thighs.
And then he’s staring at his cock, swaying in the breeze, and Dieter thinks this would be much less intense if penises weren’t so offensive and in your face.
“Pretty,” Marcus mumbles, and it makes him giggle.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, it’s— I like it.”
“Thank you. That’s very sweet.”
Marcus rolls his eyes but smiles.
“I can touch it?”
“Yeah, of course. Anything you want. Go at your own pace.”
Maybe it’s cliche, but as soon as Marcus’ hand wraps around his cock, Dieter is done for. Fuck, it feels so good, the way his movements are gentle and calculated, the way he’s being so attentive for his first time, exploratory. His free hand cradles Dieter’s sac, his thumb tracing the seam, and it’s alarming how close this is getting him. It’s so intimate, and genuine, and it’s so hot that he gets to be here for Marcus’ first time.
Marcus squeezes him tight and strokes, once, from base to tip. He thumbs at his frenulum, slippery with pre come, then lifts that to his lips. It’s like slow motion when he watches him poke his tongue out to taste, and he closes his eyes and hums.
“Better than the deodorant, for sure.”
And Dieter’s cock bobs as he laughs.
“That’s a relief.”
“I’ve never tasted my own before,” Marcus says.
“No?”
“Mm-mm. Seemed… gay.”
And he laughs at himself, but his face inches closer, and in an instant his tongue is flicking out to lap up more of it, straight from the source.
Dieter gasps at the contact, so sudden. His taste buds are rough against his slit, in a good way, and he has to cradle Marcus’ neck to reel himself in.
“That’s so good,” he whispers, “keep doing that.”
And he does, little kitten licks to the sensitive head of his cock, looking up at him from under those long eyelashes. Dieter groans and closes his eyes because if Marcus keeps looking at him like that, he will come before he can have any fun with him.
Then, in an instant, he’s completely enveloped by warmth and wetness, too fast, and he opens his eyes at the same time Marcus gags and coughs and pulls off of him.
“Jesus, Marcus, take it slow.”
He coughs more, with brow all furrowed and frustrated, and Dieter smooths his hair off of his forehead.
“Are you alright?”
Marcus clears his throat as he nods.
“Yeah, sorry, I can’t— I thought that would be easier.”
Dieter huffs, sits up a bit and leans on his elbow so he can see him better. His eyes are watery and not in a sexy way this time. He pets Marcus’ hair a bit, hoping to soothe him, but the redness doesn’t fade from his cheeks.
“You don’t have to take it all, that’s no fun, choking like that,” he says, “are you sure you’re okay? We can stop.”
“No! No— I don’t wanna stop. I’m just embarrassed.”
God, he’s so fucking sweet.
“Don’t be embarrassed. We’ve all been there. I threw up on the first dick I sucked.”
“Gross, dude.”
“I’m just saying, it could be way worse. Nothing to even be embarrassed about.”
Marcus sighs and hides his face in the crease of Dieter’s hip.
“Seriously, I’m still so hard I could shatter diamonds. You’re so fucking hot, it doesn’t matter if you choke a little.”
He feels Marcus’ teeth on the skin of his hip before he sees his jaw moving. He bites and sucks and it’s another beautiful piece of him he’ll get to take from this experience.
“That’s it. It’s all about the recovery. Fuck, Marcus, your mouth feels so good on me. Everywhere.”
Dieter lifts his hips up to encourage him to bite more, mark him up all over. He follows eagerly, until there’s little love bites scattered across the thin skin over his hip bone and his cock is weeping for attention.
Marcus looks up at him, finally, as he hovers just above his prick.
“Can I try again?”
Dieter hums and cards his fingers through his thick brown hair.
“Play until you win, babe.”
He’s much more careful, this time. He takes the head into his mouth and sucks, lets his tongue lather and swirl around it as his hand keeps his dick in place. He’s gorgeous, with his cheeks hollowed out and his eyes shut in concentration.
“Yeah, just like that, fucking perfect.”
Marcus whimpers around his cock, and drool is starting to leak from the corners of his mouth and drip down Dieter’s shaft.
“Move your hand a bit, jerk me off while you suck on it.”
He follows the direction so well, letting his hand draw up to meet his lips, then back down, over and over, and Dieter can feel his gut growing hot and tight. His tongue is working him relentlessly, and he’s never really had a partner use theirs so much, but the frantic swirling and flicking has his head spinning.
“You’re amazing,” Dieter breathes, “making me feel so good.”
At the encouragement, Marcus braves another inch of his cock. He starts to bob his head up and down, following his lips with his fist, and the breaths through his nose get heavier. Dieter babbles a bit, just encouraging words as Marcus works him dutifully, trying with all his might not to thrust up into his hot, sloppy mouth.
But then Marcus looks up at him with his pretty brown eyes and groans around the cock in his mouth and it’s too much.
“Fuck— fuck, Marcus, let me go.”
Marcus does, as quickly as he can, panting when his mouth is finally free.
“What’s wrong?”
Dieter huffs.
“Nothing, you’re perfect, gorgeous, beautiful. I just don’t wanna come yet.”
“Oh.”
The little cock drunk smile he gets is too cute, and Dieter tugs lightly on his hair to get him to crawl back up for a kiss. He tastes like pre-cum, and his nails bite into the heated skin of Marcus’ back for purchase.
“How are you feeling? Still gay?”
Marcus laughs against his lips.
“The gayest I’ve ever been.”
Dieter collapses back on the pillows to look up at him.
“Really though, are you still into this?”
Marcus nods, presses his hips into Dieter’s thigh to swipe away any last remaining doubt.
“Alright, next and final lesson. Get those tight little jeans off.”
He’s so quick to obey, and Dieter tries not to gawk at how much bigger that wet spot has grown just below his fly. He shakes himself out of it and gets his pajama pants completely off his legs.
Marcus is so fucking hot, jesus, Dieter feels like he’s pushing his luck having him here in his bed. So lean and long, and his cock is uncut and curves a bit to the left, and he’s still so hard.
“Get beside me, face me.”
And Marcus looks right at home like this, laid out in his bed, with his bicep bulging from propping his head up on his hand.
“What’s the lesson?”
Dieter smirks at the eagerness.
“I’m gonna jerk us off together.”
Marcus raises his brow.
“Like, at the same time?”
Dieter hums his affirmative, reaches a tentative hand out to cup Marcus’ pert little asscheek, and chuckles when he twitches.
“Don’t worry, we’ll save that for another time. If you want.”
“Shit, yeah, okay.”
And isn’t that gonna be fun? The thought makes Dieter’s cock throb and jerk and he shuffles to close the distance so their pricks line up together.
“Is this okay? Like this?”
He looks up from their cocks to watch Marcus’ jaw go slack.
“Oh god, ‘m not gonna last at all.”
Even as he says it, he’s wrapping his own hand around both of them and squeezing, groaning at the feeling and bucking his hips so they slide together.
“I don’t want you to last, I want you to feel good.”
Dieter lets his hand join the fun, covering what Marcus can’t, and his cock jumps in their combined hold when Marcus whines.
“I do, I— fuck, I really do.”
“Kiss me?”
He’s cut off by Marcus’ lips, all swollen and hot against his own. Marcus moans as soon as their tongues meet, and he starts shaking like a leaf. His hand squeezes harder around their pricks, works them faster, and Dieter can feel each and every twitch of his dripping cock.
He’s so frantic with it. His breathing whistles fast through his nose, panting into his mouth, and every other exhale is a desperate little noise. It only takes a few dozen strokes for Marcus to fall apart.
“Gonna come— I’m coming, Dieter—”
He gasps as it washes over him. Dieter feels his hot, sticky cum splash over his own hand and his cock and his stomach. Marcus hides his face in the crook of Dieter’s neck and bites as it courses through him. It sends a hot white spark down his spine, and what little filter he’d maintained throughout the night completely short-circuits.
“Shit, that’s it. So fucking good, coming all over me— Fuck, Marcus, you’re hot when you come. You feel so fucking good.”
Marcus whimpers through his aftershocks as Dieter fills his ears with whatever filth he can muster. When it’s too much, and Marcus has to slide his spent cock from their joined hands, he doesn’t let go of Dieter. He helps, with the slick aid of his cum, and Dieter topples over the edge with a growl and Marcus sucks another mark into his overheated skin.
It’s blinding, it’s his favorite orgasm he’s ever had for sure. Marcus gasps when the first streak of his spend shoots all over his smooth stomach.
“Fuck yes,” he sighs, exerted but intrigued as Dieter fucks their fists.
His cum mixes with the stains Marcus already left on his blanket, slowing to a trickle just as Marcus’ grasp loosens. Even when he’s empty, Dieter can still feel the orgasm buzzing through his body as he tries to regain his breath.
Marcus finally looks up from the scene of the crime and Dieter wants to take a picture of the fucked-out look on his face, his messy hair, his spit-slick lips and flushed face. But he can’t, so he kisses him instead, closing his eyes so maybe he can burn that image into his memory for eternity.
It’s lazy, so much slower and softer than the way Marcus kissed when he was all keyed up.
Shit.
Dieter’s in for it. He’s always had an addictive personality, and having Marcus in his bed has been stronger than any fucking drug he’s tried before.
He whimpers when Marcus pulls away, chasing his lips just for a moment before he reels himself back in.
He looks down at the mess he’s going to promptly ignore, thinks about how far away the bathroom closet is with all the towels. But then one slender finger is swiping through the cum puddle between them, and lifting to his face, and Dieter devours.
Marcus chuckles at the desperate noise Dieter makes as he swirls his tongue around to lick up every last drop.
“How do we taste together?”
Goddamn, Marcus is much more suave after an orgasm.
“Like we were made for each other.”
Christ, he needs to get himself together. His brain is just so fucking fuzzy and light.
Marcus doesn’t run for the hills, though. He giggles, and dips that same finger into their mess again. He brings it up to his own lips this time, sucking it inside his mouth and pulling it out clean.
There’s a slight grimace as he rolls it around in his mouth.
“Not as sweet as you were earlier.”
And Dieter laughs, brushes his two cleanest knuckles against the skin of Marcus’ hip.
“It’s an acquired taste.”
Marcus nods, and looks down between them, and some of that lightness in his features fizzles out.
“Hang on— here, use these.”
Dieter hands him his discarded pajama pants, and they use one leg each to tidy up their hands and stomachs and cocks. Then Dieter balls them up to swipe at his sticky blanket as best as he can. And it’s all so quiet, as their breathing has evened out, and fuck, what if Marcus has some crazy post-nut clarity after this… heavy situation?
He’s staring at the bedroom door when Dieter looks up to face him.
“Should I uh… go… now?”
Dieter sighs and finally gets his freshly wiped hand on Marcus’ skin, colder now where all the sweat has cooled.
“Personally, I would like it if you stayed. Cuddling after sex is… well, I like it a lot. Some people don’t… it’s okay if you don’t. Whatever you’re comfortable with. This was probably a lot for y—”
Marcus cuts off his rambling— thank god— by burrowing his face in Dieter’s chest and tangling their naked legs together. They both release two huge twin sighs, and Dieter’s instantly soothed by the weight against him, and the lithe fingers stroking his back.
Dieter can’t help it, he tucks his chin and plants a kiss to the crown of Marcus’ head. He drowns in the scent of sweat and cheap shampoo and feels so grounded for the first time in a very long time.
Marcus hums, and Dieter pulls him in tighter, swipes his palm over the curve of his tiny asscheek.
He clears his throat.
“I don’t have any plans tomorrow…”
Marcus lifts his head, and he looks so sleepy but so satisfied.
“So we can stay up all night? You can— could you show me more things?”
Dieter chuckles and kisses his lips to hide how relieved he feels.
“Was gonna see if you wanted to catch a movie or something. But I think I like your idea better.”
“Oh— a movie sounds good! I mean, it would be chill.”
Dieter huffs.
“Split the difference, we’ll watch a movie here while I eat your cute little ass?”
Dieter actually feels his limp cock twitch against his thigh, and tries to hold back a self-satisfied smirk.
“Yep. Yeah, let’s do that instead.”
Dieter kisses him, this time just because he can.
“Get some sleep first, okay? I’ll be right here.”
The look of comfort on Marcus’ face makes his chest burn and ache. His droopy eyelids close as he smiles, and his head drops to Dieter’s splayed out arm.
He just watches, for a little while. Lets himself count the deep, even breaths Marcus takes and feels them on the skin of his bicep.
His arm is gonna go numb in about two minutes tops, and he’ll cherish every pinprick until he drifts off.
#pedro pascal#pedro pascal fanfic#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal character fanfiction#pedro pascal characters#marcus pike#marcus pike fanfiction#dieter bravo#dieter bravo fanfiction#marcus pike x dieter bravo#OscarPedroPrideEvent2024
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Game On, Gyu
pairing: jealous gamerbf!gyu x gamer!reader(reader is really down bad in love w gyu)
genre:fluff
requested by :✏️anon
prompt: Can u do a crybaby jealous beomgyu getting jealous at reader and reader comforts him, beomgyu cries on readers shoulders while cuddling? 🥹 just pure fluff ( a bit Angst ) 🥹
warnings: mention of kills in game sense, other than that nothing!!
a/n: btw I was wrecking my brain a bit when you said “getting jealous at reader”, my mind pretty much went blank on what Gyu could get jealous of reader(bcos it seemed like he has everything in life����), and was playing around with the idea of maybe having a member involved which would make Gyu jealous instead(maybe a fic for another time hehe)
either way, I hope you enjoy this!!
wc:2.4k
You frequently visited the PC cafe near your house as you couldn’t stand your mother’s nagging about you being too loud whenever you were playing games, hence it became your second home.
What made it even better was the in-house food ordering service; you could simply place an order and have it delivered right to your seat. It was like having everything you needed at your fingertips.
You weren’t sure what happened that particular day, maybe the worker was having a bad day and so it was probably an accident.
But the server who served your food had mixed it up with the person who was seated beside you.
Let’s just say you were the type of person who didn’t care for relationships, but after you laid eyes on the guy seated beside you, something went off in your brain.
As the screen light shined against his face, you thought that there was no way he could be real. How could he be so effortlessly handsome? Needless to say, you were in awe. And this was only his side profile?
With the mix-up of getting the wrong food, you guys had no choice but to interact and look at each other(which you were silently thanking the server for).
Now you can say that you finally fell in love at first sight.
There was no way a guy could be this handsome and cute at the same time.
The way his boba-like eyes met yours with that clueless yet endearing expression, accompanied by a slight head tilt.
Oh, bless your fucking heart.
When he received his food from you, he offered a shy yet charming smile, his eyes resembling crescent moons.
It took all your willpower to resist the urge to pinch his adorable cheeks as he turned back to his computer monitor.
Please you were so ready for him to be yours.
A gamer boyfriend? Yes, please.
Call it what you will, but you’re calling it fate.
You’ve been to this PC cafe more than your fingers can count and you’ve never seen him around before, maybe he was new.
And in your mind, you had already come up with scenarios of you and this hot, cute random stranger.
And while you guys were switching your food, you couldn’t help but look over at the guy’s screen, which you noticed was the same game you were playing.
And well the rest was history.
Ever since then you and Gyu never had a day where you guys didn’t play computer games without each other.
You had a competitive spirit and so did Gyu. You can't recall who brought it up but you guys decided to compete for the title of the better gamer by playing PubG.
There was no other reward for it, just a title but oh you guys were dead serious about it.
You guys never had any serious fights, only teasing ones which in your relationship was how you both showed your love for each other.
There wasn’t a day that was filled with silence between you two and you loved it. All the playful banter being thrown around.
Oh how you adored this man.
“Baby… I’m sorry to say this but you’re going down. No hard feelings. You are still the no.1 female gamer in my heart even if you don’t win okay?” Gyu said confidently while still reassuring you.
“Pfft…Please if anyone is going down, it’s gonna be you my Gyutie patootie, I’m winning this.”
In all honesty, you were the better gamer(from the way of how Gyu’s friends act).
But of course you’ve never said it out loud in front of Gyu.
You would notice when his friends came over for game nights(to play Switch), they would always be fighting against one another just so that they can be on your team.
And since Gyu is the better player among his friends(excluding you)by default, he would end up becoming the other team’s captain, even though he always wanted to team up with you. And he would always give in to them because he loves his friends so much and wants them to have fun.
But you would always see your baby pouting when it happens. He was a literal angel.
Oh how you would literally just drop everything and give him all the love, showering him with kisses if his friends weren’t there. (Which you always end up doing anyways after his friends leave because you can’t help yourself)
He got you wrapped around his little finger.
For those who are not familiar with how Pubg goes:
Basically, the objective is to be the last man standing(in this case with your team of 4 players).
While trying not to get killed, you need to equip yourself with weapons that are best suited to your ability.
You would also have to occasionally check the map, making sure you are within the safe zone at all times. Failure to do so will result in your health bar decreasing, causing your character to die outside the safe zone.
In the event of being shot, but not fully hurt until your teammate have to press the recover button, you are able to heal yourself with items like bandages, health aid kids, painkillers and drinks you find when you loot(search) the houses.(based on the actual game as i actually play it🤭)
with that let the games begin~
Whoever has the most kills wins, bonus if they are the last man standing and kill the other in the game.
Y’all were playing in a team (against each other)with three other random queues that the game had assigned for you, so you weren’t sure how your team would fair.
But you didn’t worry that much because you knew that you were bout to eat this shit up.
When a character kills in the game, their user ID will be shown on the screen. And yours showed up mostly on both your screens throughout the game.
‘_________🔫 by ScarletShooter’ your ID appeared multiple times.
Your team was literally so impressed that they typed into the world chat for all the other players to see.
“Dang Scarlet let’s goooo🤙🏻”
“We bout to win this match.”
“How are you so good?”
What could you say? You were the jack of all trades.
If you thought you were great at close combat shooting, you were even better at sniping.
Once you find a Sniper 🤝🏻 4x/8x scope, that was it for your enemies. No one could escape your sight.
Gyu on the other hand was reading all these messages appearing on his screen and started to get even more fired up.
When the game first started he was being laid back, thinking that he had a lot of time to catch up and get more kills in the middle of the game.
But with every passing moment he delayed, the number for the survivor count was going down quickly…
You were taking everyone out 🤙🏻
Now the survivor count was at 45, meaning that there were 41 left for him to kill(excluding him and his teammates)
He wanted to win you in the game so badly, wanting the title of better gamer between you both.
Honestly, he was doing better than expected(it must be thanks to you that he was feeling motivated.)
‘________🔫 by ScarletGyu’ yes… yall matched your IDs. Scarlet was the clan name because yall’s favourite Marvel character was Scarlet Witch.
You couldn’t help but feel proud when you saw his name on screen but had to occasionally remind yourself that you guys were currently fighting for the title of the better gamer.
Honestly you didn’t even want the title, you just wanted to see Gyu work hard for something he was passionate about.
But what fun would it be if he win so easily? Plus you would rather see a pouty Gyu. He was literally the cutest when he pouted. So that was your driving force now.
Title literally meant nothing.
Total number of survivors: 7
You were now at 20 kills while Gyu had 15. There were 3 left on your team(including you) and Gyu had one more teammate alive(you guys didn’t know how many players each other had left).
In Gyu’s mind, he was assuming that you still had all 4 players alive and 1 single player who was roaming out there. Which he thought was enough to beat you if he were to take down all 5 of you(not knowing how many you have already killed).
While for you, you just wanted the game to end already. It has been about 30 minutes. You could say it was a slow game.
And it’s like your prayers were answered. One of your teammates had taken out two of the roaming enemies, not knowing that they weren’t from Gyu’s team.
But it finally seemed that the game would end.
With that, you took out your sniper and started scanning through the field. And there you saw someone familiar(you knew how Gyu’s character look like) peeking out from behind the tree (literally 2 kilometers away from you but you could see him clearly thanks to your scope).
You were thinking of teasing him a little. So you typed in your team chat to ask one of them to look for the other enemy to see whether the last two enemies were on the same team.
And well, your team was quick. They found the other enemy and knocked him out. You suddenly saw Gyu’s character running towards where the enemy got shot and that was it.
As Gyu tried to revive his teammate, you took the final shot. Claiming the chicken dinner and winning the title.
When Gyu died in game, he turned and looked at you with a sad pout. Stop he literally was about to cry.
He rose from his gaming station and made his way to the shared bed, where he sat down, pulling his knees to his chest and burying his face into his folded arms.
Without hesitation, you rushed to the bed, dropping to your knees in front of him as if pleading for forgiveness. Your arms reached out, gently touching his shoulders, ready to pull him into a comforting embrace.
Initially, he remained motionless, unmoved from his stance. However, as you tenderly began to give him head pats and apologize for causing his tears, he relented, surrendering to your embrace. Nuzzling his face into the curve of your neck, he enveloped you in a hug, holding on tightly as if he were a koala clinging to a tree.
Feeling uncomfortable with the current setup(you were literally still in the kneeling position), you decided to shift. You gently pulled Gyu down, maneuvering into a more comfortable arrangement where you could cuddle together. As he snuggled even closer to you, seeking warmth and comfort in your embrace.
As his sniffles softened, you debated whether to stop the gentle head pats. But when he didn't feel the next one, he pulled back slightly from the cuddle position, his teary eyes meeting yours.
"No stopping," he insisted, his voice tender.
"Gyu still wants head pwats." How could you refuse your baby?
You couldn't resist, he was too adorable. Your heart was melting. So you resumed giving him those comforting head pats.
In the quiet stillness that enveloped you both, time seemed to stretch on for what felt like a good five minutes. It was a rare occurrence, considering that when the two of you were together, silence was usually a stranger.
As the last sniffles from Gyu faded away, his arms still wrapped around your waist, you gently pulled him back so that now, you were face to face.
With a soft smile, you planted a kiss on his lips, causing him to jump a bit in surprise, clearly not expecting the affectionate gesture.
"So, can we talk about why you cried?" you asked Gyu gently, your voice filled with concern.
He hesitated for a moment before finally admitting“Gyu was jeawous."
Fuck why he gotta be so cute.
"Oh, my baby, what were you jealous about?" you cooed.
"You were playing so well, weren't you? I noticed your name popping up so many times during our game," your voice was gentle and reassuring, aiming to comfort him and prompt him to open up about his feelings.
“B…but your name appeared more, and you even killed me. Now you got the title of the better gamer between us,” he said, his voice tinged with sadness.
Your heart sank at the sight of your baby's sadness; you initially thought it would just end with him being pouty, but it seemed that winning to earn the title meant a lot more to him.
"I don't even care about the title, Gyu. I just wanted to see you play with passion. If it would make you happy, you can have the title," you said, sincerely hoping to lift his spirits.
"I didn't mean for you to cry, you know? I'm sorry," you said softly, genuine remorse evident in your tone.
Gyu looked up, meeting your gaze with understanding eyes. "I know," he replied softly, his hands now gently cupping your cheeks, his touch warm and reassuring.
"So..., to make it up to me for making me cry, the next time the guys come over, I'm on your team. I'm never on your team when they're here." He said shyly while looking at you with his boba eyes.
"Aww is that all my baby wanted? Sure we can do that. Anything for my Gyutie patootie, bugaboo,snoogums." you replied with a chuckle, adding some playful pet names to lighten the mood.
"God, you know I love you so much? My heart feels like it's about to burst out of my chest. I just needed to let you know how much I love you, Gyu," you whispered, your voice filled with tenderness and affection.
Gyu's cheeks flushed with a rosy hue as he gazed at you lovingly. "I love you too, more than words can express," he replied softly, his heart overflowing with warmth and adoration for you.
"Thank you for loving me, Gyu," you whispered, pulling him close as you both drifted into a peaceful slumber, wrapped in the warmth of each other's embrace.
masterlist
Please tell me I did good(I want some praises pwease🥹), I hope I did >_< and I hope this is up to your expectations. I had such a fun time writing this ahh, was super cute to write too. Missed writing fluff content so much😭.
Once again if you enjoyed this please give it a like/reblog/follow if you wanna see more fluff content from me. See you in the next one lovelies🥹🫶🏻🤍
taglist - @moagyuu @heyanonymous123 @yelshin @inkigayocamman
wanna know whenever I post a fic, comment here!!
💌inbox is open so send some request here!!
© babymochibeargyu - all rights reserved. please do not copy/repost/translate
#cheryl answers ✩♬ ₊˚.#✏️anon <3#babymochibeargyu#game on gyu#beomgyu fluff#choi beomgyu fluff#beomgyu imagines#beomgyu x you#beomgyu x reader#beomgyu soft hours#txt scenarios#beomgyu oneshots#txt beomgyu#txt fluff#txt x reader#jealous beomgyu#jealous gyu#divider by agsthv#divider by chilumitos#divider by fairytopea
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028. A PEARL (WRITTEN)
wc: <1k
prev | next | masterlist
unfortunately for you, you felt so alone on your ‘date’ that you stayed in the rain for a while causing you to wake up sick. you felt horrible that morning, being sick and sad didn’t mix well.
you tried not to cry but you couldn’t help it, you thought you and hanni had finally made amends but apparently you were wrong. who would ever make their girlfriend wait for them at a date?
did hanni even love you?
thoughts about what hanni truly felt for you ran through your mind, until you decided to close your eyes again refusing to look at your phone. you hoped nobody would come by your house, especially not hanni as right now you needed anything but to see the girl’s face. you think you would breakdown in front of her, something she didn’t need to see.
you knew your friends had their concerns for you, but you hoped they’ve known you long enough now to give you some space before checking up. especially when it dealt with love, dating wasn’t easy as an actor nobody wanted to deal with the harsh reality of fame so when you finally found hanni you felt extremely happy.
you thought she would understand your problems, but maybe she just wanted to mess with you. but who really knows? all you could do was lay in your bed, reality setting in as you finally closed your eyes drifting off to a deep sleep.
—
you were awoken by a sudden crash, presumably downstairs. you got up from bed quickly, rushing down your stairs to be met with people in your kitchen.
“riki! you’re so damn loud!” hyein whisper yells, her voice getting softer as she noticed you.
“hi yn..” hyein says, giving you a nervous smile.
“how the hell did you guys get in my house?” you ask, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“you gave danielle an extra key when she lived here for a bit.” hyein replies, to which you sigh.
“look, i love you guys so much but i really just think now isn’t the time.” you say, your friends looking at you with pity.
their looks did nothing to comfort you, just reminding you how real this situation was. you diverted your attention from them, looking through an open window to see the rain back again. it was like it knew when you were sad, coming back to make you feel even worse everytime.
“well, we made you soup!” danielle says, making you smile a bit.
“thank you guys. i appreciate it.” you say sheepishly, you were embarrassed they had to see you like this.
it had been a long time since you’d been heartbroken like this, only sunoo and danielle knew about your past relationships the two being your friends during it. you felt you could never find peace in love, but you tried to push those feelings aside putting on your best face for your friends especially hyein and riki.
you all went to sit in your living room, hyein turning on a show creating a quiet conversation between your friends. hyein and riki even whisper fighting, making you laugh.
for some reason your laugh comforted your friends, the group smiling whenever you did happy that their presence made you feel at least a bit better. you focused on the show, invested in whatever plot line was being solved now.
your phone was long forgotten, the rest of your friends also having theirs off for the sake of you. little did you all know, hanni wasn’t doing amazing either.
—
hanni couldn’t believe herself, she feel asleep when you wanted her to meet up with you. you weren’t answering her texts, or anything the only thing about you she had was hyein telling her to watch out on twitter, riki commenting and agreeing aswell.
she had to stop herself from tears, why weren’t you answering her? couldn’t you let her explain herself? hanni had never wanted someone more than you, your presence giving her nothing but happiness and peace. she hoped you didn’t think she hated you, but the possibility was strong. maybe you were just taking a quick internet break? the possibilities only ran through her mind at a even more rapid pace as each one passed on, making her feel crazy.
hanni was texting minji in panic, the girl on the other end doing her best to comfort hanni but nothing seemed to work. hanni valued you too much, and she didn’t know what she would do without you. she wanted a future with you, to see you walk down the aisle slowly approaching her with your eyes locked on hers. she wanted you two to have a house together, having a family of two cats and four dogs. okay— maybe she was getting a bit carried away, but the point is hanni had nothing but strong love for you.
she needed to get you back, no matter what she has to do.
your love went too deep for a simple misunderstanding to ruin it all, hanni swore she wouldn’t let it happen.
TAGS 🏷️ (CLOSED): @jayjj7 @haerinsloverr @aribunnu @masuowo @multiliker @winieter @sewiouslyz @edenzeepy @popasi @home2venus @ghstvr @technicallyimportantsweets @he------len @yukianism @yeetaberry127 @haechansbbg @linnnsworld @sixflame438 @emotionallyrin @gtfoiydlyj @inosfavgf @rvoulte @hotluvlet
a/n— next few chapters might be crazy guys writing sad stuff while emo is NOT a good idea..
#newjeans#newjeans hanni#newjeans smau#newjeans x reader#newjeans hanni x reader#hanni pham x reader#hanni x reader#hanni pham
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xix. amare
Your household was... never a pleasant memory, to begin with. Ranging from the death of your pet to the death of your father, it is quite fitting to say that your house is more of a graveyard of your loved ones. It's rather a devastating memory that you choose not to mull over for the sake of your mental being.
Yet when you step foot into the abode you've once called home, those memories comes stumbling back to you, crawling its way into your heart despite your inward protests. You could only place hope in yourself to not get fucked up after this whole ordeal.
Sighing for the upteempth time, you shoot a quick glance at your wristwatch.
4:32pm.
Where the fuck was your mother?
You don't need to look besides you to know that Gojo seems pissed off as well. If it were any other situation, a comment of how shitty he looks right now would've spilled from your lips.
If it were any other situation that doesn't involve an immaculate line of servants eyeing you both with such a barely disguised look of disgust in this fine grandiose room dedicated for the sole purpose of this very meeting. You were absolutely certain that one word spilling out of either the two of you would have the servants spreading rumours everywhere on social media.
Well, it's good to know that Gojo seems to be aware of it, given by his strained silence.
You're not much any better whatsoever. Given by the fact that you're so close to snapping and leaving this damn residence. You huff inwardly, glare boring holes onto the cold, untouched pudding on your plate.
Few moments pass in sinister silence until faint footsteps reaches your earshot that everyone in the room snaps their head to the door. It is then that a smile automatically plasters itself onto your lips as you gesture your companion to stand up. It is then that your mother greets you with the most sickening beam that your smile drops and you inconspicuously gape at her with the most baffled look you could manage.
Perhaps your acting skills will never be enough to hide your dislike to your own mother.
"[Name]! I missed you," she coos, rushing to press herself onto you as a sound of disgust leaves your lips. Her eyes sparkles upon seeing your companion, "is this Gojo? It's been a while since I've met your father!"
When has she ever liked meeting with his father? You snort.
Perplexed, Gojo opens his mouth to speak before shutting it close when you gently press a finger to his mouth and his gaze lingers to you as you talk, "let's not idle any longer. get to the point already."
The fact that she made you wait for 30 minutes is burning every tids of patience within you and—god forbid you mindlessly snap infront of everyone, which would definitely lead to unwanted rumours seeking to put your reputation at risk.
Your mother imperceptibly pauses, her expression visibly snapping to that of indifference you're all too familiar with. Eventually, she walks back to her seat, clicking her tounge as she does so, "alright then."
As the two of you take your seat, Gojo leans towards you, a roguish smirk that is, for once not directed to you but to your own mother, "your mom sounds like she got a stick up her ass," his breath fans your ear as he whispers and the warmth of it involuntarily burns your cheek—and you want to shove him away for it. But you don't. Instead, you force out a hideous cackle, opting to barely obscure it under a hand.
--
"Any more clarifications?" she speaks tediously, clicking her pen roughly as her eyes flits to yours in question. In response, you shake your head, offering her a plastic smile and a curt, "no."
Presently, it is 7:28pm, half of the servants had gone and went on to their own duties while Gojo resists the urge to implode, looking immensely ugly in the process, and you? Oh gods, you don't even know where to start.
For the past three hours have you two dealt a long ass damn monologue on the contract's details (despite your heavy protests being that you've read about it already) that is painfully akin to the lectures Yaga had given you when you got into teensy bits of trouble.
Except you can see the exasperated yet fond smiles Yaga gives you after the same lectures. And that—that is something that this woman would never do.
She lets out a hum, stacking the papers neatly, "well, then. I suppose that is all." You merrily perk up, eyes flitting over to Gojo as he does the same, a childish spark flickering within those cerulean eyes, "but—"
Her eyes crinkle and a smile creeps to her lips, "I would like to have a word with your husband," and Gojo immediately deflates, before straightening up and regaining his composure. The chair lets out a soft creak as she stands, "I'm sure you don't mind, do you?"
You chew your cheek, doubt churning your stomach, 'surely she won't...' and all said doubt is instantly washed away when Gojo covertly flashes you an uncomfortable wink that speaks reassurance in an.. inexplicable way which definitely has you grimacing in response.
"You should ask Gojo, not me," you finally mutter, still grimacing while vaguely pointing to the ivory haired man.
Said ivory haired man simply shrugs, still keeping his eyes pinned to yours, "surely it won't take hours, right?"
"Mhm, yes, I suppose so," she hums, nodding.
The way your mother has a ghost of a cunning smile on her lips doesn't go unnoticed yet you reluctantly disregard it anyways, choosing to finally, and only this once, put your full trust on Gojo to not fuck up.
--
The second you step foot into an empty park, you collapse. Gasping for air and mind whirling around the earlier image of your mother's face, scrutinizing any reaction and oh—you can't breathe. It's so hard to breathe. You grip onto one of the lamp post, clutching it so tight as your head spins and your chest constricts.
'one, two.. three..' you exhale, 'one, two, three...' and another.
Your mind unwillingly reels back into the shape of your mother's eerie smile, widening with each second and your chest tightens at the image, despite hazy.
"It was your fault your father turned out this way!—" a voice yells, the sound low and deafening against your ears. "You didn't feed him again!? aren't you her daughter?" another voice mocks, and suddenly, you can't see anything—it's too dark and your body feels numb. Too numb.
Voices after voices storms your mind simultaneously and it's all too overwhelming—the screeching voices coming from one ear to another, laughing and laughing and laughing—
"[Name]?" the sound flows effortlessly, confused and perplexed, still fuzzy against your ears as everything that happened prior gradually melts down to an uncomfortable buzz. And slowly, yet quickly all the same, everything comes steering in, colors and sensations coming into place as air finally gets to your lungs and you can breathe again.
The first thing that comes into view is white hair and immediately, you resist the urge to shove it away. Slowly, you let go of the metal post, stumbling a bit before feeling cold, damp hands touch your wrist.
"You look like shit, bro," so he says, the words callous contrary to the soft grip around your wrist as you regain your composure, "what happened? you were hyperventilating."
Still hazy, you reply softly, quiet against your ears, "it's okay. it happens—just sometimes." Gojo stands there for a minute, a blank expression on his face, "really?"
You simply hum in response, still trying to even your breathing. Moments later of heaving and catching your breath, he's still grasping your wrist even as you squirm gawkily to hint that fact.
"You can let go now, y'know," you slightly quirk your brows at the hand wrapped around your wrist. Perplexed, he blinks then his gaze drops to his hand and he swiftly lets go, wincing as if he had burned himself. "Sorry," he musters, trying to keep his expression in check.
You snicker at that, slightly still feeling the dizziness, "you're so awkward when it comes to these things."
"Shut up." he shoots back, turning away from you with a frown.
For a second, you think he's actually genuinely upset. So you plaster on a sheepish grin and apologize, in courtesy of lectures about manners, "sorry about that."
For a moment, he doesn't respond. That same blank expression steering his face until he finally replies with a dry chuckle, "we're too awkward for this, it's dumb." That pulls out a short laugh from you, a genuine one, "yeah, exactly."
"So," he drawls, that signature shit-eating smirk slowly forming on his lips as he lifts a finger playfully, "ice cream? to, uh, cool your body or whatever?"
"Nah, I'm not fond of ice cream," you reply thoughtfully and quickly, ignoring the last bit. A scandalized gasp easily catches your attention, "what!?"
Confused, you wince at his eccentric countenance, "stop looking at me like that. You look even uglier than usual."
"Nuh-uh," he says with a conclusive tone, and obviously ignoring your comment, "I'm feeding you ice cream. No complaints, I'm paying."
You only have a split second to brace yourself before his hands suddenly wrap around your wrist and you're cruelly gently being dragged over to the nearest store with a bright grin playing on his lips.
(The two of you were then forcefully kicked out of the store shortly after Gojo knocks over an expensive bottle of red wine in favor of mocking you for liking plain, boring vanilla ice cream.)
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previous episode - next episode.
───〃★Chained Ardency masterlist
Synopsis: You, one of the most notable actresses of all time, have been bothered once again by your despicable mother to inherit the company via marriage. Though, it's nothing to worry about. After all, you've procrastinated on that for three years, so what's the difference this time? Oh, how wrong you were. Everything. Down from your career to your friends. So entirely out of spite and anger, you decide to marry the man whom your entire household carries an unexplainable hatred for.
Taglist: @catobsessedlady , @ploomyyyae, @xiaomypookiemouchiepie , @akagism2 , @roscpctals99, @aggressivelyaffectionate , @azure-op , @wonwuz , @stinkinstuffie , @itzmeme , @odessamoari , @astrasworldsblog, @mo0sin, @janedukiesworld , @sakui1 , @iaminyourfloors , @lightshowerrr , @mochuchi , @overthebox , @woahguy278 , @bellsoftheball , @h3xi2g0n3 , @ladyaaliy , @reagan707 , @theinsanebish , @rinitoshisgirl , @colortheoryrocks , @tenshiroko , @kodzuminx , @corvid007 , @dreamxiing , @wannapizzamymindposts , @poopooindamouf , @lemonnotade , @hellomeow12 , @crankyarchives , @lollygagger-s , @satoryaa , @ukiyoeangel, @kamikokii , @r0ckst4rjk , @itzjuliana , @shadowheads-shitshow
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Authors' Notes + elaborations - i think gojo would be the type to not mull over serious shit happening hence the immediate shift of atmosphere. but he still kept what happened in mind though! like offering ice cream and walking her home after she tripped (he was going to do it anyways, regardless if she tripped or not)
gojo offering icecream and walking her home seems kinda not so helpful at first glance but for someone like [name] who usually isolates alot, i think it's very helpful in her case🤗
fun fact; [name] and gojo usually went to stores tgt back in their highschool days, hence the lack of hostile reaction coming from [name] cuz if it wasn't for that, she'd be biting his head off in protest.
(ask to be added or removed)
#gojo smau#gojo x reader#jujutsu kaisen gojo#jjk gojo#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x reader#gojo fluff#jujutsu gojo#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk smau#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#nobara fangirl#brother suguru
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Stargazing - Bucky Barnes x OC
warnings: brothers best friend, seven minutes in heaven, summer party, smut, 18+
word count: 10.5k
WP: https://www.wattpad.com/1452954096-stargazing-sterling
vibe: “Yeah. I was thinking we could sneak out tonight and watch the fireworks by the lake when everyone else is too drunk. You down?”
Bucky stroked her cheek with the back of his hand.
“I’d go anywhere with you.”
Masterlist
Sterling pulled on a black tank top over her light blue bikini top and stared at herself in the mirror. She ran her fingers into her blonde hair and flipped it to the side, her hazel eyes moving over herself as she twisted to look at her ass in the mirror.
Her brother's annual "Kick off to Summer Party '' at their lakehouse was the biggest party the town had ever seen and it was the first where she and her friends had been invited officially. Every other year they had to crash, but this year Steve had just told her to come.
"Okay, we get it, you're hot," Aria groaned and laughed from her bed, throwing a discarded tank top at her. "You know Bucky already knows that, right?"
Catching it with ease, Sterling hurled it back at her best friend, biting back a smile "Shut up," she replied, rolling her eyes, "Maybe I want to look hot for you, did you ever consider that?"
"At least I'm already in your bed, now's your chance," the redhead winked, flopping over onto her back and opening her arms.
With a cackle, Sterling launched herself at her friend, wrapping them both in the sheets as they tussled. Aria’s cries of protest quickly turned into howls of laughter and she finally managed to push Sterling back off her, making her land on the floor with a thump. The air whooshed out of Sterling’s lungs and she pushed her now-tousled hair out of her face.
“One day you’ll give in and admit you want me,” Sterling grinned.
“What, and take Barnes’ place in your affections?” Aria snorted. “As if.”
“Give it upppp,” Sterling whined, rolling her eyes as she clambered to her feet and straightened her hair.
"You know it's not like that," she continued. "We're just friends, that's all." Sterling shrugged at her friend, who just raised her eyebrows in response. Sterling couldn't blame her though. She wouldn't believe herself either.
"Just friends?" Aria responded, unconvinced.
"Yeah, just friends." Sterling repeated, trying to sound somewhat believable.
"So you don't mind me asking him out?" Aria asked teasingly, knowing she hit a nerve.
Sterling's whole body stiffened and she swallowed the irritation growing in the back of her throat. It was true, she and Bucky were just friends. But sometimes, it felt like the line blurred. They stared at each other for way too long sometimes. But that happens, right? He had become a fixture at her house over time. Whenever he wasn't there, things felt... empty.
"You can do whatever you want," Sterling replied, her tone clipped.
Aria narrowed her eyes, her mouth curling into a sly grin that made Sterling's stomach drop. She wasn't going to have this conversation right now. Or ever. Bucky was off limits.
"Wow, you are pissed at me!"
"Nope." Sterling shook her head.
"Yes you are!" Aria teased. "You know what I think?"
Sterling turned back to study herself in the mirror, trying to ignore the anxiety pooling in her stomach.
"I don't, actually," she laughed. "And we should get going."
Aria was still teasing Sterling playfully as they both left the bedroom and made their way to the great room. The music making the floor reverberate the closer they walked to it.
"Sterling," a voice called from the kitchen. "Come here and give me a hand."
"You do know I'm a guest, not the kitchen maid, Bucky. "
"I know that, I just don’t have enough hands," handing her a bowl of chips, and nudging her out of the kitchen in front of him.
He followed closely, Sterling could feel the heat of him always just one step behind her as they made their way across the living room to the table already laden with snacks and bottles of sweet premixed drinks in buckets of ice.
Aria caught her eye as she hovered, wiggling her eyebrows and being as unsubtle as possible. Sterling shot her daggers and with a quick shake of her head shooed her friend away. It didn’t work.
“…to see you at one of these things.” Bucky’s rumbling voice caught her attention.
“Huh?”
“I said it’s nice to finally see you at one of these things.”
“Um yeah, my brother is finally letting me be among the cool people.” Sterling set the plate and bowl down that she was holding, letting her eyes wander over the man next to her. His dark hair was tied into a small ponytail, his steel blue eyes trained on her. That’s where her eyes stopped wandering and she allowed herself to stare into them for a second.
“I think you’re pretty cool, Sterling.” Bucky said more to himself than to her.
The blush that crept across her cheeks felt hot as he stared at her. Years of watching Bucky flirt with other girls Sterling always had this deep seeded jealously that he was giving all his attention to them. Just begging for him to take notice of his best friends silly little sister without anything ever changing but today he had noticed, today he was talking to her.
"I'm just lucky Steve invited me," Sterling sighed.
"I think he ranted for two hours last weekend about how we didn't need a repeat of last year when you showed up already drunk with..." He paused, his tongue darting out over his bottom lip, "Aria! And both of you needed puke buckets by the end of the night. "
"The most embarrassing night of my life," I wanted to hide my face.
"You and I remember that night differently," he smiled over at me and ran a hand over his head as the moment grew warm and tense. "Steve claims at least this way he can keep an eye on you."
"And still he sent his best friend to play bodyguard," Sterling shot back, ripping her eyes off him and watching the table with snacks again.
"Who said that Steve sent me? Maybe it was me that wanted to make sure you're okay this time."
She felt his eyes still on her and it was enough for a shiver to run down her spine. No matter how big the urge was to look at him now, she knew she couldn't give in, because something in the blue of his eyes made her feel things in her stomach, she didn't like to confess.
He was her brother's best friend. That's all.
She wouldn't let Aria's words from earlier infest her mind.
Sterling let out laugh, doing her best to seem nonchalant about Bucky’s presence and the way butterflies were fluttering about her insides.
“Much appreciated, Barnes.” She smiled, “I think I’ll be ok though, I know how to be a good girl.”
Not a millisecond passed after the words slipped from her lips and her hand was flying to her mouth. The heat creeping up her neck unbearable from the embarrassment.
“I- I didn’t, I mean,” She stammered, mentally cursing herself and her racing mouth. When she looked up, Bucky was biting back a smile, his soft pink lips curling slightly and she was just waiting for the comeback.
“I’m sure you do,” he chuckled, “I just want you to have fun Star, if that ends with you and Aria puking your guts out again I’ll be right there with the buckets.” His words every bit as genuine as they always were, left floating between them as he turned back to the kitchen. She could her heart lurching in her chest, the impossibility of them looming over it.
“Could you gimme a hand again here?” Bucky called back.
“Yeah, yeah.” She answered, shaking her head before whispering. “For fuck’s sake Rogers, get a hold of yourself.”
Sterling took the two bowls of dip he handed her and turned and walked them to the snack table. “Did you grab spoons for the dip?” She called.
“Not yet,” Barnes answered.
She could still feel his lingering gaze as she turned and walked back into the kitchen to grab them. Keep your cool. He’s Steve’s best friend.
Letting out a short breath, Sterling shook her head once, and stood at the snack table, organizing the bowls and ignoring the heat radiating through her body. It was far to early in the night for soft glances and butterflies.
As she reached her hand into a bucket of ice to retrieve a drink, a large hand clammed down on her wrist as an arm was slung over her shoulders, pulling her almost backwards off her feet.
"What do you think you're doing kiddo?" Steve grinned, as he squished her cheeks together.
"Ow, get off!" Sterling tried to stifle her laugh as she ducked out of his arm and pulled away from her, "God you're annoying when your friends are around,"
Steve gasped and his hand went to his chest, "I'm offended! I'm suppose to be annoying all the time, I really need to step my game up here"
"Please don't," Sterling rolled her eyes with a smile, "and in answer to your question, I was getting a drink! Isn't that what you're supposed to do at a party?"
“Yeah and you remember what happened the last time, right?” Steve hooked his thumbs into his belt, his hip jutting out in the most accusatory stance Sterling had ever seen. “I’m not keeping your hair out of your face this time.”
Sterling opened her mouth to protest but she didn’t have time.
“Don’t worry, Star. I’ve got your back,” Bucky said, wrapping her hair around his hand and giving it a sharp tug. “I’ll hold your hair if you want me to.”
The interaction made her blush, whether it was from the embarrassment she felt or because Bucky's hands were merely inches away from her neck.
"See? Bucky's got my back," she grinned at her brother, trying to play it cool as Bucky slowly let go of her hair, "And besides, that was ages ago. I can handle what's in my cup." She winked at her brother, who didn't look amused as she got herself a cold drink out of the bucket.
Just when Steve was about to comment on her behavior, Bucky interrupted him by pulling Steve close and putting an arm around his shoulder. "C'mon Stevie Wonder, I heard your girl is here," he said, patting his best friend's chest a few times. Sterling watched them walk through the door, as Bucky's head turned around slowly, leaving her with a wink.
Sterling blew out a breath.
"Be cool. It's Bucky."
Off-limits Bucky. Hot, blue-eyed, messy-haired Bucky in a baggy blue dress shirt and a tight white tank top that was incredibly slutty and transparent. Somehow, more slutty than the time he was wandering around in nothing but a pair of jean shorts.
Boisterous laughter and warm greetings filled the house as more guests started to arrive. Sterling took a big sip of her drink. She could still feel her hair wrapped around Bucky's knuckles, and his breath on the back of her neck. She gazed into her cup like the answer to her problem was written at the bottom in big, bold letters.
"Are you hiding in here?" Aria asked, bouncing into the room.
"No," Sterling scoffed. "I was getting a drink."
"Sure, and the blush on your face has nothing to do with Miami Vice out there?"
Sterling rolled her eyes.
"Are you capable of shutting up?"
"No," Aria replied, grabbing herself a drink. "I'm a professional yapper."
"So are we going to watch the dips all night or are we going to get this party started?" Sterling bumped her hip into her friend and knocked her off balance before skipping out onto the deck singing loudly and definitely slightly off key.
Aria stopped beside her, "Hey bitch," she laughed, "don't forget who your wingman is tonight."
Sterling grinned back, taking a drink from her cup as she looked around at the group of Steve's friends currently hanging out on the lakeside.
It was the perfect night for it, Sterling decided, as she and Aria wandered outside to join them. The sky was clear as anything, and she paused, tilting her head right back to see only black slowly begin to twinkle with a plethora of stars. More and more appeared the longer she stared and it was only when her neck began to ache that she let her gaze fall again, rolling her shoulders.
She felt his eyes on her before she spotted him again, huddled in a semi circle with Steve and their friends Bruce and Natasha. Bucky brought his own bottle to his lips, blue eyes on Sterling even as the rest of them laughed at something Steve said, unbelievable on its own never mind with Bucky looking at her like—
“We seem to be in the habit of moving then stopping and then… Sterling, babe, are we gonna mingle or what?” Aria whined. “I wore my itty bitty big titty dress and not a single person has laid eyes upon these bad boys yet.”
“Then they must be blind.”
They walked into the crowd that was forming on the makeshift dance floor on the grass, music blasting from the speakers as they found a spot on the outskirts of the crowd. Sterling moved to the fast paced beat until she noticed a pair of blue eyes trained on her. There he was again. As if his only mission tonight is to remind her of how pathetically down bad she was for him.
"Blind cowards," Aria threw her hands in the air and yelled over the sound of bad 90's pop.
Sterling stared at Bucky, tipping her head to side with a smile on her face as Aria danced sultry circles around her. She quietly hoped that they weren't all blind cowards and maybe she was worth the trouble that would come with flirting with her brother's best friend. Just for a second she had hope that Bucky felt the same.
It was so hot that the more they danced and drank the faster the sweat pooled on their skin. They must have been on the dancefloor for an hour before her feet started to hurt and her head became dizzy. Sterling felt alive as she ran her hands over her body and threw her hair to let the breeze lick at her neck.
"In a room full of cowards," Aria whispered in Sterling's ear and spun her around by her fingertips. Bucky hadn't taken his eyes off her, even as people held conversations around him, it was like they were the only two people at the party.
It was only in the moment his tongue darted out to lick the beer off his lips, that Sterling forced herself to look away. Heat pooling in her lower stomach that was very clearly not the result of the sweaty dancing session.
“I- I need to grab another drink,” she slightly stuttered towards Aria, but the redhead only nodded at her, occupied with dancing to one of Steve‘s friends. If Sterling remembered correctly, his name was Scott.
Her hurting feet carried her back inside the house and towards the large fridge. The cool air hit her like a rock but she kept standing for a little longer, trying to get rid of the unwanted heat she had just felt.
“Don’t you think you had enough alcohol already?” Bucky‘s voice echoed from behind her and Sterling was frozen on the spot, shoulders tensed and eyes closed to use this short moment to regain herself as best as possible.
“Barnes I don’t need you policing my drinks too,” Sterling answered, sharper than she had intended to. She whipped around a water bottle and a seltzer clutched in her hand.
“Just a joke Sterling, relax.” Bucky declared, hands raised as a sign of peace.
Sterling closed her eyes and took a deep breath, “sorry, I didn’t mean to bite back at you.”
And it was true, she hadn’t. But the feel of his eyes on her had her on edge. The mixture of the heat and alcohol swimming through her was messing with her head and he was certainly not helping her case.
“I just wanted to check on you, you left the floor pretty quick.” He confessed, a shy closed lip smile on his face, the icy-blue of his eyes almost eclipsed from the alcohol he’d had.
“I’m fine… just hot,”
“Hot…” Bucky countered. “You do look a little… flushed.”
Sterling flushed brighter as she closed the fridge door. “It’s… it’s hot out.”
"It is." He agreed quietly with a nod.
Sterling was fighting to not fidget with the bottle label as they both faced each other in the kitchen, the silence only adding to her nerves.
She opened her bottle and took a long sip, careful of how Bucky's gaze was fixed on her. No doubt keeping count of how many she would drink tonight. The flush of embarrassment heated her cheeks as memories of that last party hit her again.
"I'm not–"
"Do you wanna–"
They both smiled awkwardly, Sterling tipped her bottle in his direction as a sign for him to continue.
“Don’t worry about it,” Bucky smiled sheepishly, rubbing his hand across the back of his neck.
Sterling stared at him for a moment, a little perplexed, and then laughed awkwardly.
“Ohhhhkay then, Barnes,” she chuckled, saluting him as she walked backwards for a few paces before turning and heading for the dance space.
Trying not to over-analyse the strange encounter, Sterling began to lose herself in the music again, her arms in the air as she swayed to the beat.
“Fuck it,” a low voice murmured close to her ear and she felt a scalding presence at her back.
One large hand rested on her waist and another wrapped around her middle, the fingers splayed out on her belly. Her head lolled back against Bucky’s broad chest and she let her arm curl around his neck as they swayed together, his hips matching every movement of hers.
Sterling’s stomach did backflips as she moved her body along with Bucky’s. She swore she could feel everyone staring at her. At them. But when her eyes scanned the party, everyone was either off in their own worlds while they danced, or fully engrossed in a conversation.
Even her brother.
Her breath hitched as she watched Steve howling with laughter while he took big sips from his red solo cup. Bucky pulled her closer, and she felt his lips brush against her ear.
“You seem tense, Star.”
His voice was a gentle purr that made the hair on the back of her neck and arms stand straight up. She felt like she was swallowing sand, and it was hard to get air into her lungs.
Bucky hummed, his confidence growing… along with something else.
Oh, God.
Sterling just kept moving with him as one of his hands slid down to grasp her hip. Her heart was pounding as she kept staring at her brother. Steve was now gesturing wildly, no doubt telling some dumbass story she’d probably heard a thousand times.
Bucky’s soft laughter wasn’t doing anything to help her anxiety, or the heat pooling between her thighs.
“I think you’re drunk, Barnes.”
“I’ve barely had a drop,” he purred. “The room didn’t start spinning until you walked into it.”
"Smooth, real smooth Barnes," turning in his arms so that she was facing him, his arms remaining encircled around her but his hands were now on her ass and she was pressed firmly against him.
Sterling slowly risked looking up, his eyes were fixed on her face, as if daring her to pull out of his embrace, as their hips continuing to move in unison.
She let her gaze flit over his features, closer than she'd ever been to the little dimple in his chin, hidden by dark stubble but still there and just asking for her thumb to be pressed to it as her nails scratched over his cheeks and the gap between them closed and— was it getting hotter out here or?
"Looking a tad frazzled there, Little Rogers," Bucky chuckled lowly, fingertips pressing just a little firmer and making her gasp.
"You know I don't like it when you call me that," she replied, swallowing thickly when Bucky's lips tugged up into a devilish little smirk, his cloudy-blue eyes crinkling at the corners.
"I got plenty of other nicknames for you, maybe we could—"
Bucky didn't get to finish because Sterling's idiot brother hollered over the music. "Buck! Beer pong! Get your ass over here, we need you to even out the teams!"
“Big Rogers out here ruining everything.” Bucky murmured before turning on his heel and leaving Sterling on the dance floor, his touch still imprinted on her skin, lingering like little flames.
Bucky stopped, turning back for a brief moment. "I'll make you a bet," he said over the music and Sterling rolled her eyes at him. "Oh come on," a playful smile spread across his handsome face, "are you scared, Star?"
"No, but bet's never end well." She said, wrapping her arms around herself.
"If I win at beer pong with your brother, you spend seven minutes with me in the hallway closet." He offered.
"Do you even understand that you just mixed two games together?" She giggled, her heart racing. "And if you lose?"
Bucky stepped forward another inch even as Steve was hollering for him to hurry up. "I spend seven minutes with you in whatever closet you want."
Sterling swallowed roughly and ran her tongue along a few of her top teeth. "You're serious?" She asked and he nodded. "Sounds like you win either way."
Sterling watched as Bucky raised a brow at him. “Oh? Don’t think I don’t notice your little looks and lingering stares.”
He leaned closer, his lips just a hair’s-breadth from hers.
“You ever catch me staring back, Star?” He grinned, a smile that sent thrills down her spine, and then his lips ghosted across hers as he laughed - low and rumbling in his chest - before pulling away to join Steve.
Sterling remained frozen in place, her chest heaving and her thoughts reeling. Her hand flew up to press against the swell of her breasts in an effort to calm her pounding heart.
Bucky looked annoyingly triumphant as he made his way over to Steve.
“You feel like winnin’, Cap?” He asked.
“Hell yeah!” Steve replied, high fiving him. “We still need one more, though.”
Sterling sighed, running her hand through her hair as she approached the table. Steve quirked a brow as she joined the other team.
“Seriously?” He laughed.
“What’s so funny?” Sterling retorted. “Afraid you’re gonna lose?”
Bucky’s eyes burned into her, his lips curling into a devilish smirk as he slowly shed his dress shirt, revealing his toned arms. He said he’d been working out, and goddamn did it show. Sterling swallowed hard, wishing she’d had more alcohol so that she could process this a little easier.
“Not at all,” Steve replied, grabbing his sunglasses and sliding them onto his face dramatically. “But just so you know, Buck and I are on a hot streak.”
“Is it ever embarrassing being you, Steve?” Aria laughed as she sauntered past the table.
Steve turned to her, flipping her the bird as she settled into a chair and pulled out her phone. Sterling’s buzzed in her pocket and when she pulled it out, she found a text from Aria.
Ten bucks says you fuck Bucky by the end of the night.
Sterling shoved her phone into her pocket, casting Aria a dirty look. God, she was a pain in the ass. And what was worse? She was probably right.
"You with me, Angel?" Asked the guy standing next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder as Sterling took her position beside him.
"Hands off, Frank," Bucky growled, reacting before Steve could. Sterling was already shrugging his arm away.
"I'm just here to play," she rocked on her heels in place, looking Bucky straight in the eyes as she settled in her position. "And I intend to win."
"Not as much as we want to see you loose." Steve responded, getting the last cup filled with cheap beer.
"Oh I bet Bucky wants to see me win," she smiled, "but I can see why he wants me to loose, too. I mean, I'm good a playing this game but I think there are other games I'm even better at."
Bucky coughed, almost choking on air. He definitely didn't expect that, which made Sterling even prouder.
"You good?" Steve asked him.
"Yeah I'm fine," he coughed, "just a bug." He lied and glanced at Sterling who smiled at him teasingly.
"Let's go then," Steve said and started to throw the first ball, landing it straight in on of the cups right in front of Sterling.
Sterling clicked her tongue while Steve flashed her a shit-eating grin.
“What was that about winning?” He asked. “Buck? Did you hear something about Sterling winning?”
“Nah, she said she likes to lose… that’s what you said, right?” Bucky teased, eyes shining with mischief.
Laughter rippled through the small crowd that had now gathered to watch them, with Aria looking like the fucking Godfather sitting in her chair with her big sunglasses on. Sterling grabbed the ball out of the cup and set it down before throwing back the entire thing. The beer was cheap, causing her to pull a disgusted face. From across the table, she heard a shutter click and looked up to see Bucky snapping a photo of her.
“Nice face, Little Rogers. I think I’ll put your humiliation on a t-shirt.”
Oh, now you want to play?Sterling set the cup down and picked up the ball, aiming for the middle of the table. It bounced in a perfect arc, landing right into a cup that sat right in front of Barnes. Her teammates cheered, grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her gently.
“Fuck yeah!”
Bucky frowned and Sterling flashed him a big, sunshiny smile.
“Drink up, Bucknasty.”
Bucky winced as he swallowed the warm liquid, and opened his eyes just in time for the flash from Aria's camera. The look on Sterling's face matched his previous expression.
Steve limbered up, before grinning across at them, rolling the ball in his hand before bouncing it once and landing it perfectly in the cup closest to Frank.
"Don't miss," It was Sterling's turn to threaten her partner.
“I won’t miss, I’m a pro at this.“ Frank slurred, clearly drunk already. This was all on her. No matter how this game ended, she would definitely end up with her tongue down Bucky‘s throat but her competitive streak got the best of her as Frank let the ball bounce off the table. She groaned, throwing her hands in the air. Alright, guess she’s winging this on her own.
"Frank, buddy... How many cups do you see right now?" Steve laughed.
Frank hiccupped, "maybe thirty three?"
"Good luck, Star." Bucky winked and lobbied his ball across the table, a clean drop into one of the front cups. "You're going to need it." He said as Steve missed his throw and Bucky ate his words.
Sterling surveyed the situation, there were four cups left on their side of the table and four on hers. It was even for now but if she had a chance of winning-which she did-she would need to stack the odds for her less than helpful partner.
"I want a rearrange." She announced, and her brother started laughing.
"So early?" Bucky cocked his head to the side and pretty smile formed as she nodded and swirled her hands around. "Alright, as you wish." He shook his head and rearranged the cups for her. "How's that?
"Better," Sterling steadied her shoulders as the butterflies danced around in her chest, "Frank, aim short?" She instructed him, knowing that given his current depth perception, short was long. "Can you do that for me?"
"I can do anything for you," Frank smirked and leaned close to her but he was cut short by the sound of crushing plastic and they both turned to see Bucky leaned over the table. "Simmer down, Barnes."
Sterling caught Bucky’s eye, her eyebrows rising and teeth pressed into her bottom lip as she held back a little laugh.
“I’ve got my eye on him,” Bucky mouthed with a quick cock of his head towards Frank.
“He’s nothing to worry about,” Sterling mouthed back, just as Frank pressed all of his weight against the table to throw the ball, clumsy and with absolutely zero skill. It bounced off the nearest cup and skittered over the edge of the table just as Frank heaved and rushed off.
“You puke anywhere but the toilet Frank and you’re a dead man!” Steve called after him.
“Perfect,” Sterling grumbled, “and you can wipe that smirk off your face, Barnes.”
Sterling grimaced slightly. “I refuse to clean anything up if he misses.” She eyed her shot and easily bounced the ping pong ball across the table. It bounced against the rim of one cup before landing in another.
"You think you can win all by yourself, Little Rogers?" Bucky quirked a brow, before downing the liquid in the cup.
Letting out a breathy laugh, Sterling shook her head, "I was carrying this team anyway, if you think you can scare me now, you have something else coming" She smirked, running her hands into her hair, pulling it up into a ponytail before stretching her head to the side, all while keeping her hazel eyes on his.
Bucky's tongue darted out over his bottom lip as he watched her movements. She could see his jaw tick in the low light of the white fairy lights that hung around the porch. Butterflies took over her chest once more, but Sterling knew she'd gotten to him too.
"Come on, man," Steve slapped his hand against Bucky's chest with a ball, "It's your ball"
Bucky puffed out his chest, making a not so subtle show of flexing his muscles as he lined up his shot. Sterling pretended to find the entire thing obnoxious, but she couldn’t get over just how beautiful his hand looked as he flexed his wrist. His fingers were…
Long
Heat pooled in her stomach as Bucky’s eyes twinkled.
“You know, they call me the sniper,” he purred.
Sterling put her hands on her hips, her mouth forming a thin line.
“Are you gonna throw that thing, or—“
With a flick of his wrist, the ball bounced on the center of the table before bouncing right into the cup in front of her. Steve thrust both arms into the air before wrapping them around Bucky and shaking him as Sterling’s team groaned.
“YEAAAAAHHHH!”
Bucky arched a brow as his team celebrated around him. He leaned up against the table, his eyes gliding up and down her body. Sterling retrieved the ball and as she choked down the disgusting, lukewarm beer that definitely had a few blades of grass in it, she felt someone pluck the ball from her fingers. When she looked up, Bucky was drying it on a towel, handing it to her.
“Looking forward to that seven minutes,” he purred, keeping his voice low.
Her gaze flitted to her brother, who was focused on trying to pry open a bottle cap with his teeth while everyone cheered him on. Sterling, feeling the alcohol starting to take hold, snatched the ball from Bucky's grasp and leaned forward. Electricity crackled between them and Bucky's eyes lit up like fireworks.
“Are you sure you can last seven minutes?”
He chuckled, his face bright red as he swiped a hand through his hair, some of the strands from his ponytail coming loose.
"I don't need seven minutes to make you come--"
Her heart raced, legs wobbling, and before she could utter another word, the sound of riotous applause erupted around them. Steve triumphantly spat a bottle cap onto the table. Bucky winked at her as he retreated.
"Gotcha, pretty girl."
"Girl. The tension. Fuck me." Aria appeared beside her, sunglasses pushed down to the tip of her nose as she peered at Stirling over the top of them.
Sterling reached out, taking the drink from her best friend's hand and chugging back the last of it. She was gonna need it, or possibly something stronger. The pair of them stood there, gazes following Bucky until he disappeared inside with a Cheshire Cat smile and one last glance over his shoulder. His broad, muscled, shoulder. Sterling was screwed. Or she was gonna be if she could unstick her feet from the floor and follow him.
"If you don't go after him, I will," Aria murmured, tapping Sterling on the ass. "Chop chop."
"He can't be serious, right? Like I know we've been doing whatever this," she flaps her hands around, "is all night but—"
"Go. After. Him." Aria urged. "No man looks at a woman the way Bucky's been looking at you if he isn't serious."
“Girl, if you don’t move your sweet ass inside, I’m never speaking to you again”. Aria gave her a playful shove in the direction of the door where Bucky was waiting for her. The man that she dreamed about but never thought would show any interest in her. Finally her legs started moving and with a slight wobble she stepped inside of the house where she passed a few people making out on the couch in the living room. Seemed like those two were having fun. The first door to her right was open and the blue dress shirt tied around the handle. It was like she was on a scavenger hunt and she just found the most precious treasure waiting for her.
The room was empty when she finally found the nerve to push inside. It was one of the empty guest rooms, with a big bed and standard set of suite furnishings. It was just as warm in the room as it had been at the party and Sterling was getting increasingly bored of Bucky's games but she wasn't ready to let the fuzzy feeling in her chest fade just because she was annoyed.
For all she knew this was her last shot with Bucky and she wasn't going down without a fair fight.
"Bucky," she called out to him but he didn't answer. "Come on, this is silly."
"I'm cashing in my seven minutes, little Rogers." His voice was low and drifted from the open closet.
"You can't be serious!" She laughed and wandered around to find him sitting on the floor, his arms angled back behind him to hold him upright as his chin titled to look at her. "It's hot out here, it's probably a sauna in there."
"Better lose some layers then," He smirked and sat up, extending his hand with a wiggle, "rules are rules, get that cute little butt in here."
He thinks I’m cute?
Sterling took a breath before reaching out her hand, letting Bucky link their fingers together before pulling her into the closet with him.
She laughed as her knees hit the carpet, quickly finding his eyes as they practically stared into her soul. “What now?”
"Now," his low voice sent shivers down her spine. His blue eyes turned a dark, stormy shade as they roamed over her face, the bop of his Adam's apple slow and nervous.
"Now you let me give you seven minutes of heaven," Bucky declared.
Heat sang across Sterling's skin as his fingers grazed her cheeks, pulling her closer until they shared air. It was hot and tempting but she still held back, that last breath between them like a wall guarding her.
"Please Star.." he begged, voice a little hoarse and soft lips barely brushing her own. "Let me kiss you."
Her breath caught in her throat as almost every other thought in her head drifted away. All that was left was Bucky and flashings of their relationship leading up to this moment. The way his shoulders tensed every time she talked about another person that she was interested in. The way his gorgeous blue eyes seemed to follow her movements every time she danced around the kitchen when she cooked. The semi-unnoticeable protectiveness she'd always experienced from him.
Despite her feelings, Sterling had always passed it off as him feeling like she was a sister to him because of Steve, but now, in this moment, the shake in his voice and the way he waited for her answer, it felt different.
Before she realized what she was doing, the blonde nodded her head slowly as she pressed her body forward into him until the tips of their noses brushed lightly.
With a soft shake of his head, Bucky tangled the ends of her ponytail into his fingers gently, "Words, sweet girl," he swallowed, "please, I need to hear you say it"
Sterling let a smile grace her lips as she nudged her nose against his once more, "I want you to kiss me, Bucky," she whispered.
With that, Bucky let out a breath and closed the gap between them, capturing her lips with his, softly but with as much passion as she needed. Sterling felt every nerve in her body fire as butterflies swarmed her belly. Her fingers curled into the fabric of his white shirt, pulling him impossibly close and needing to be closer, despite the heat of the cramped closet.
His hands cupped her face, thumb gliding over her cheekbone as he nipped and sucked on her bottom lip. She whimpered against him, fingers clawing at his tank top, desperate to feel the warmth of his skin underneath it. Bucky groaned as he broke the kiss, dipping his head to drag his teeth along the sensitive skin of her throat. She hissed and he pulled her closer.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been thinking about this.”
“Tell me,” she rasped.
“Last summer.” His voice is low and gravelly, sending shivers all the way down to the tips of her toes. “You were parading around in that little pink bikini. You know how hard it is for a man to concentrate when all he's looking at is your perfect little ass?”
He sucked on her earlobe as she dragged her fingernails over his abs. Abs that he took so much pride in. She wanted to run her tongue along them.
“You liked it?” She breathed.
Bucky let out an almost inhuman groan, grinding his hips against her thigh.
“I took cold showers every day because of you and that goddamn bikini,” he confessed, pulling back. His lips were bitten red from kissing her and his eyes shimmering. “So yeah… I liked it.”
Sterling leaned forward, so that she could feel his breath quicken as her fingers roamed higher up his body, her lips brushed his again as his hand moved to the back of her neck and he pulled her closer, his tongue touching her lip, asking for permission to deepen the kiss.
Sterling dipped her chin, barely a nod, and Bucky huffed out a soft breath as if he couldn't quite believe they were doing this, hidden in a closet like a couple of teenagers.
And then his mouth was on hers again, hot and slow, tongue slipping just between her lips and dragging along the sensitive skin until Sterling shivered, letting out a quiet gasp and giving Bucky the perfect in to lick into her mouth, curl his tongue around hers.
He took his time, an indulgent exploration of her mouth and body. Sterling's heart hammered, bloody rushing in her ears as Bucky murmured something against her lips, incoherent babble that was so far away from his usual cool demeanor that she couldn't help but giggle.
"That sound," Bucky moaned as his body tensed and leaned into her excitingly. "That giggle drives me nuts," he whispered against her skin as he kissed a peppered line of fireworks across her jaw to her ear.
"What else?" Sterling said opening her neck up to his lips as his fingers tangled into her long blonde hair.
"You're going to think I'm ridiculous." He huffed as her lips found his again.
"Tell me," she urged and squeezed her legs around him, "you've got time, at least five more minutes in heaven."
Bucky laughed against her, "I use the bathroom on the main floor when I stay over because it's the one with your shampoo and I crave the smell of it when you aren't around." He whispered and pulled back to gauge her reaction.
"God, that's adorable," Sterling smiled so wide her cheeks hurt. "So all this time?" She questioned.
“All this time,” he nodded. “I’ve been on eggshells around Steve but… I can’t hold back anymore.”
Sterling licked her bottom lip, staring into his ocean-like eyes. “Neither can I.”
"Thank god," Bucky groaned, pushing her body back against the wall and entrapping her there with his own as his lips found that sweet spot where her jaw met her neck once more. He licked a strip up her skin, setting it ablaze as her stomach did backflips.
"Bucky," Sterling breathed, racking her hands into his hair as a small whine escaped her lips, "kiss me"
Once more, he obliged the request, ghosting his lips over her jaw before capturing her own, sliding his tongue against her. His hands drifted over her body and slid up under her black tank top, curling into skin.
“Bucky,” Sterling whispered softly in between kisses. His fingertips felt hot on her skin, making her think about other places where she wants them to touch her.
“Did I ever tell you how much I like you saying my name?” Bucky’s breath felt hot against her throat as his hands kept on exploring her body, stopping right beneath the clasps of her bra. “I could never get enough.” His lips found hers again, devouring the taste of them as Sterling pulled him closer to her, getting a stifled moan in response.
She smiled at his reaction to her.
“So you like that, huh?” He smiled against her lips.
“Uh-huh.” She nodded, her eyes closed as she tried to catch her breath. “A lot, actually.”
“Tell me what else you like, princess,” he whispered.
“I liked you in nothing but those jean shorts you wore last summer,” Sterling rasped. “Was that to get me back for the bikini?”
She grew bolder, popping open the button on his jeans and dipping her fingers below his waistband. Bucky let out a whimper, his voice breaking as her mouth hovered over his. Every time he tried to kiss her again, she pulled back. His frustration was palpable and he pulled her closer, one hand reaching up to wrap around the back of her neck. Sterling smirked at him, licking her lips and watching his eyes focus on her mouth.
“You like to tease, don’t you?” Bucky asked.
“And you don’t?” Sterling countered. “You were eye fucking me at the beer pong table.”
Bucky’s fingers pulled open the strings of her bikini and he took her bottom lip between his teeth, tugging on it until a pathetic whimper spilled from her lips. His free hand dove between her thighs, teasing her pussy over her shorts.
“I do like to tease, but when it comes to you, I’m tired of playing games.”
Sterling gasped as Bucky increased the pressure on her pussy
"Oh, you like that, young Rogers," he teased, smirking as he leaned forward to return his lips to that spot below her ear that had already made her squirm.
She whimpered as his other hand sneaked under her top, his fingers tracing a trail up her rib cage, reaching her nipple and squeezing it gently between his forefinger and thumb.
Sterling’s breath caught in her throat, skin tingling as Bucky’s worked her nipple to a hard little peak. His fingers grazed over the swell of her breast, cupping her gently and bunching up the fabric of her top as he moved.
“So soft, Star. I knew you would be but, fuck. Can’t believe I get to have you like this.”
“Bucky,” Sterling breathed, head falling back as Bucky pressed the pads of his fingers firmer over the denim of her shorts, making her belly swoop with anticipation. “Please. Oh, God, please.”
The roughness of his stubble on the sensitive skin of her neck mixed with the warmth of his mouth was driving her crazy, her whole body thrumming with it until Bucky drew his hand away.
“You sure you want this?” He asked, voice low and soft as he pressed a sweet kiss to her lips.
“It’s you,” Sterling murmured, “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
The button on her shorts was the next to go. Bucky flicked it free with ease and pressed his hand down between her bikini bottoms, tickling his fingers deeper until he found the wetness that pooled between her thighs.
"So wet for me," He cooed and nibbled on her jaw as he helped her open up just enough to dart his fingers across her clit.
"Bucky," she whined, arching into his languid touch as he began to massage small circles.
“I know I said we would stay in the closet,” he murmured, then licked up the side of her neck. “But we might need to… spread out…”
Sterling groaned, feeling pleasure spark through her body. “I don’t care where we are… I just want you.”
Blindly she reached for his shorts once more, and was quickly rewarded when she heard him moan.
“Take me to your room,” Sterling whispered.
Bucky’s cheeks flushed and he groaned as she wrapped her fingers around his cock. He was thick, and throbbing in her hand. Sterling watched as his eyes fluttered closed, stroking him languidly, her thumb gliding over the tip of his cock.
“F— fuck!” He hissed. “Where’d you learn to do that?”
She giggled, nuzzling up against his cheek.
“I’ll give you more than my hand if you take me upstairs.”
She’d never seen Bucky move so fast, pulling her hand out and zipping up his jeans. He grabbed her hand and stuck his head out of the closet door, glancing around as a strand of dark hair fell into his face. Sterling could only stare at him as he listened hard. Outside, she could hear Steve’s boisterous laughter and Bucky nodded.
“Let’s go.”
With his fingers still wrapped around her wrist, he pulled her toward the stairs. Just as they were about to hit the landing, a door swung open and Sam Wilson stepped out of the bathroom, stopping dead in his tracks.
Shit.
Sterling and Bucky froze and he dropped her hand as Sam grinned.
“What’s shakin’, Bucknasty?” When his eyes landed on Sterling, she held her breath, her fear written all over her face. Sam took a step forward. “Where are you two off to?"
"Sterling was just about to show me her impressive collection of Bratz dolls? Wanna come?" Bucky offered him a toothy grin and Sterling tried not to laugh.
"Nah I think I'll pass," Sam looked between the two of them, his eyes moving sluggish.
He was just as buzzed as everyone else at the party he would most likely forget the interaction but Sterling was nervous that he might notice the blush of cheeks and how messy Bucky's hair was, and shit Sterling looked down to the button popped on her jeans showing off the top of her bikini bottoms.
"You sure?" Bucky pushed, his hand linking around his back to wiggle his fingers at Sterling who had stepped further behind him to hide her appearance.
"Hanging out with Roger's baby sister is the last thing I wanna do, I'm going to go find Tony." Sam rolled his eyes and backed down the hallway.
"What about you?" Sterling lifted to her toes and whispered in Bucky's ear as Sam disappeared. Her hand trailed around him, playing at the waist of his pants, "Am I the last thing you wanna do?"
"I'm fully prepared to do whatever you want, Star." He huffed as her fingers tickled his skin, "now get up those stairs." He said, slapping her ass playfully as she darted up the stairs away from him with a giggle.
Once they reached the hall, Sterling turned and looked down the hall. “Which one’s yours, handsome?” She teased. She fully knew which one, but she wanted him to lead her there.
A menacing smirk played at the corners of his lips as Bucky stepped into her, placing his hands on her hips, dipping his fingertips into the sliver of skin that teased his gaze between her tank top and her shorts.
"This way, babygirl," he rasped in her ear, as he guided her backwards and pressed her body into his door. Bucky dipped his head, capturing her lips once more with his, keeping their bodies as close as he could.
Sterling's mind was swimming with everything and nothing at the same time. She knew there was going to be conversations and situations they would have to deal with if this went as far as she'd hoped, but in the moment, right here with him, none of that mattered.
Blindly, her one hand found the door knob as her other curling into the collar of his white tank top, pushing the door open gently so they didn't tumble in, she dragged him back with her, giggling as she did so.
"I gotta say, " Bucky spoke, licking his bottom lip, "I do like being thrown around by you,"
"I'll keep that in mind." Sterling breathed against his lips as she shut the door closed with her foot. The second the door clicked, Bucky shoved his hands down beneath her shorts and grabbed her ass, pulling her towards him. Sterling gasped in surprise which made Bucky chuckle before he rested his lips on hers again. Sterlings hands found their way to his hair, tugging lightly as Bucky deepened the kiss, pressing her against his hardened cock.
"God," she moaned as the movement made every cell in her body fill with butterflies.
"Fuck," Bucky breathed, "do that again."
"Make me," she bit his bottom lip teasingly, looking straight into his blue eyes that just turned a shade darker at her words.
"Give me chance," Bucky chuckled and kneaded her ass under his palms as worked his mouth across her lips to her jaw, nipping and licking.
She worked at the button of his pants and rolled them down over his hips. She walked them toward the bed, shoving him back against the mattress and following him on her knees as he backed into the center.
Sterling sat on with her knees on either side of his thigh thighs and stared down at him as she carded her fingers through her hair and smiled at him. "Do you like this bikini?" She asked him.
"I'd like it better on the floor, little Rogers." Bucky bucked his hips toward her as she teased the string behind her neck.
Sterling licked her lips as she slowly untied the string of her top but still kept her breasts from his view. “How long have you wanted to see me like this?”
Bucky only groaned. “Fuck… too long, baby girl. C’mon… let me see…”
Raising an eyebrow, Sterling cocked her head to the side.
“What?” Bucky asked with a low chuckle, his body shaking beneath her. “C’mon, Sterling, stop being a tease,” he whined.
Sterling stared down at him; at the tendrils of soft chestnut hair fallen from his bun, kissing the sharp lines of his jaw, and the thinnest halo of blue around his pupils as he stared back. Awe and impatience glistening in his eyes in the low light of the room.
Feeling for Bucky, and his erection tenting in his boxers and pressing firmly against the inside of her thigh, Sterling dropped her hands, her bikini top tumbling from her body like leaves from a tree.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Bucky groaned. “Look at you pretty girl.” He reached for her, hot palms on her skin as he cupped her breasts.
Sterling slowly began to move her hips, needing the pressure on her clit while Bucky massaged her breast’s.
“You’re fucking perfect, Star. You know that?” He looked at her while putting his lips on her nipple, licking and sucking while his other hand wandered down her stomach, stopping right at the rim of her bikini bottoms.
Sterling threw her head back with a soft moan while she continued to slowly ride his thigh.
"Just like that," Bucky praised as her hips rolled, "feels so good," he mumbled through his teeth as he nipped at her sensitive skin.
"I need more," she pleaded as his fingers dipped between her legs.
"Beg me for it," he teased her throbbing clit with the pad of his thumb and brushed his fingers through her wetness against her entrance. "Beg me for more, Sterling. I wanna hear you beg to ride my hand."
"Please, Buck." She steadied her breathing and turned her chin toward him, "please let me ride your hand."
"That's my girl," he cooed and pushed two fingers as deep as his angle would allow him. The sound that erupted from her was low and guttural.
“Ohmygod,” she breathed as she rocked back and forth. “Buck-y…”
“That’s it… god, you’re soaked…”
“I’ve thought about this… so much…”
“Me too, baby girl, me too,” he replied. Bucky slowly rubbed her clit with his thumb watching as Sterling shivered. “Talk to me… what do you need?”
She couldn't get the words out at first, dizzy with the sensation of Bucky's fingers sliding deeper, his palm pressed to her clit as he switched up the position of his hand. That was so close to what she needed, more. Her lips moved with the beginnings of the word, it was right on the tip of her tongue until Bucky kissed it from her pressed together lips and trailed his own down her neck to her collar bone.
"B-Bucky," she stammered out, voice cracking. "Mor—" she managed before it became a soft whimper instead.
"You need more, Star? Another finger? My mouth? You gotta tell me baby."
"I don't know, I don't know," Sterling babbled. "Just more, just need you. Want you." She wanted him everywhere, wanted to be surrounded by everything he was.
"Hold on," Bucky murmured, nipping at her skin before they were moving, tumbling over until he hovered above her, caging her against the sheets.
He stripped her from her clothes, not wasting his time but using every second to adore every inch of her. "You're beautiful," he kissed her ribcage, drawing a sweet, sticky line with his mouth to her belly button. He sat back on his heels, pulling off what clothing remained. He looked like a god, the lights from outside bathed him in a haze and made him look ethereal. Sweat clung to his abs and made the perfect tanned skin shimmer as he lowered himself back to her.
He used his knees to spread her legs and rested behind her thighs as his mouth found hers again in a frenzy of teeth and tongue.
Sterling wrapped her hands around his face and tangled her fingers back through his hair, needing more contact as he rocked against her but never entered. She ached for him, and he knew it in the way his hands teased her skin and his teeth sunk into her bottom lip.
“Please,” she whimpered, feeling as Bucky’s ponytail came undone, causing his hair to drop in a veil around their faces. “Please Bucky…”
“Are you sure?” He asked. As much as he wanted this. Wanted her. He needed to know.
“Only you… always you,” she breathed.
"You're killin' me here, sweetheart," Bucky huffed out softly, "didn't think I was ever gonna get this."
"You're not gonna get anything if you don't hurry up," Sterling quipped, bringing her legs up around Bucky's hips, ankles crossed just above his ass as she hauled him impossibly closer until every firm, hot piece of him was pressed against her. It was everything.
"Hi," Bucky whispered, lips ghosting over her own as he held himself up on his forearms. His fingers toyed with the loose strands of her hair splayed out over the pillow as he looked down at her with a soft little smile.
"Hi," Sterling whispered back, kissing him quickly. "Are you gonna fuck me now?"
"Have you always been this impatient?"
"Buuuckyyy," she whined and Bucky's laugh rocked through them both; the rich, joyous sound filling the room. He brought his lips to hers again, nipping playfully at her with a soft growl as he reached between their bodies.
"Yes, Sterling. I'm gonna fuck you now."
"It's about time," she rolled back into the pillows and raised her hips as he pushed between her thighs and sunk deep within her throbbing walls. "Shit," Sterling gasped as he stretched her beyond the tipping point. She squeezed around him and rocked her hips up to meet his rhythm as he dragged himself completely from her and slammed back in again.
His hand cupped her face, his thumb finding her bottom lip and brushing it down to widen her mouth as she moaned through the sensation.
"Are you being soft on purpose?" She gasped with each, tiny delicious rock of his hips. Every time he rubbed his chest against her pebbled nipples he earned a new tiny whimper from her kiss bitten lips.
"Maybe," Bucky whispered and pulled her bottom lip between his own.
"You can't hurt me," She tangled her hand into his hair and tugged gently, "I know you won't, so stop treating me like a china doll and fuck me like you mean it, Bucky Barnes."
Bucky buried his head against her neck and groaned. Finally being engulfed in her felt like seeing the night sky and stars for the first time.
He angled his hips and began snapping his hips, listening to Sterlings resulting moan. “God, I’ll never get tired of that sound.”
Sterling gripped Bucky's shoulders, nails digging into the muscle as he drove himself deeper with each thrust. Her whole body shifted on the bed, steady thuds of the headboard in time with her hammering heart.
"Oh, fuck," she breathed and she felt Bucky's smile on her skin, that delicious scratch of his stubble as his lips curled followed by a hot, open-mouthed kiss. He sucked and licked at her neck, sure to leave a mark that Sterling really hoped her brother wouldn't notice.
"Gotta let everyone know you're mine now, pretty girl," Bucky murmured between wet laves of his tongue, as if he could read her mind. "Fuck, you're perfect, Sterling."
Sterling's soul was on it's way out, halfway to floating out of her body as Bucky fucked her harder; torturously slow drags of his cock until he was buried deep, grinding down as Sterling reached down to grab his ass, anchoring his body to hers.
When she clawed at his back, leaving deep red nail marks, he shivered, his eyes rolling back and his cock throbbing inside of her. His hips snapped harder, the sounds erupting from his throat made her flutter around him.
“Jesus, Star.”
Sterling flashed him a wicked grin as music poured in from the open window that faced the backyard.
And then she heard it.
“Hey, Sammy! Where’s Buck?”
“Steve’s gonna kill you, you know,” she murmured against Bucky’s mouth.
He laughed, grabbing a pillow and sliding it under her lower back, only pulling away to watch her eyes widen as he drove himself deep enough to hit that spot.
“Oh!”
“If being with you is heaven then I don’t give a shit what he does to me.” Bucky’s kiss was surprisingly tender, his thrusts slowing down as pleasure built in Sterling’s belly. “I’ve wanted you for so long, Star.”
Her hands found his hair once more as she tilted her head to capture his mouth. “I’ve wanted you too,” she answered as they pulled away for air.
“Fuck,” Bucky moaned, driving his cock slow and deep into her cunt. “You’re mine now…”
“Yours,” she agreed.
The sounds of Steve’s voice grew louder, tangling dangerously with the chorus of grunts and breathless moans.
“I’m not done,” Buck warned as she tensed when Steve’s voice echoed closer to their door.
“Did we lock that,” Sterling gasped as Bucky’s fingers dug roughly into her skin and his pace became sloppy.
“Nope.” He kissed her hard, stealing the air from her lungs as his cock rubbed every wall in sweet slick roving movements. “Now, Star.” He demanded and the walls cracked beneath her.
She plunged into what felt like endless pleasure as the stars danced across her eyes. Bucky pressed his hand over her mouth as she let out a long, loud moan. Not finished with her just yet, Bucky slammed into her and dragged every ounce of pleasure from her exhausted body as he dove over the edge after her.
“Buck?” Steve banged on the door.
“Your seven minutes in heaven is up,” Sterling stumbled through a gasp as Bucky slid from her raw pussy and spilled warm between her thighs.
“Are you jerking off in there?” Steve shouted. “Get out here! Sam’s kicking my ass at beer pong!”
Bucky placed a chaste kiss on Sterling’s lips. She barely had time to come down from her high before panic settled into her bones.
“Hide," Bucky hissed. "Bathroom."
“Bucky! I’m covered in—“
“I’ll make it up to you, princess. I promise.”
She smiled and rolled off the bed, rushing for the ensuite bathroom and closing the door until it was just barely ajar. Through the crack, Bucky tugged his pants back over his hips, giving her a good look at his gorgeous ass. He tossed on a black t-shirt and opened the door while Sterling watched from the safety of the bathroom. Her brother was hammered, leaning up against the doorframe with a can of beer clutched in his fist.
“I was taking a power nap, dude," Bucky sighed.
"A power nap?" Steve scoffed.
"Yeah, puke and rally."
“Yeah, well, I’m getting my ass handed to me!" Steve whined. "Sam's a monster at beer pong."
“I’ll be down in a second.” There was a long pause before Bucky sighed again. Sterling could barely see through the crack. “What, Rogers?”
“It smells like sex in here.”
“Okay, get out!” Bucky bellowed.
Sterling laughed as she heard the two of them wrestling and then the door shut. In seconds, Bucky was ripping open the bathroom door and pressing her against the wall, his mouth soft against hers. When he pulled away, Sterling beamed, taking in his flushed cheeks and bright cerulean eyes. She couldn’t believe this was happening. No more daydreams, no more thinking about what his lips would feel like while she watched him nurse a beer as he sat with his long, tanned legs stretched out on the porch. This was real.
Bucky’s brows furrowed.
“You okay, pretty girl?”
She nodded, pushing aside her growing feelings.
“Yeah. I was thinking we could sneak out tonight and watch the fireworks by the lake when everyone else is too drunk. You down?”
Bucky stroked her cheek with the back of his hand.
“I’d go anywhere with you.”
#one shot#marvel imagine#marvel oneshot#marvel one shot#marvelous#bucky barnes#bucky barnes oneshot#bucky barnes au#bucky barnes one shot#bucky barnes x oc#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes smut#bucky#winter soldier#steve rogers#marvel au#mcu au#james barnes au#collaboration#writing community
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|| 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬 ||
❃.✮:▹ ◃:✮.❃
❃.✮:▹ ◃:✮.❃
Rs: Bakugou Katsuki x gender-neutral!reader
Warnings:
slight heavy angst, neglecting boyfriend,
bad break-up.
Summary: you knew dating pro-hero Dynamite was gonna be tough but when you notice how distant he becomes, you can't help but wonder whether either of you chose the right decision to get together in the first place.
Wc: 0.7k
Suggested song: (P.S, if you're listening to the song recommended, please read a little slow at some parts if you want it to sync at the best parts (p′︵‵。))
*+:｡.｡ ｡.｡:+*
It was one thing to know he was constantly busy and away with hero work. But to be deprived for his attention and have the first thing he did when he got home, ignore your entire presence and walk pass to sleep in your shared bedroom.
You know that Katsuki was working hard every day, fighting criminals, saving banks and civilians, etc. But you would've at least expected one kiss from your boyfriend when he got home. It tugged at your heart strings but you knew you had to let it go. You knew the priorities and the responsibilities he had and you couldn't put yourself above that. To pick you over the world is ridiculous.
By then, you slid into bed along with him but he wasn't facing your side of the bed. You didn't mind though, scooting close to him and running your hand in his hair. You slithered your arm around his waist before pulling your body close to his, savoring his warmth.
The next week's were honestly so painful. He would ignore you even when he was home. Every time you texted him or tried to call him at work, he would ignore you but respond when you were pissing him off.
One day, when he was home and finally spoke to you, he wanted to break up.
"Look-" he averts his gaze to the side, a solemn look on his face. "I just think we shouldn't be together. I'm caught up in work a lot so you shouldn't be with somebody that's barely around and.. I shouldn't be with somebody that...." He drifts off, shoving his hands into his pockets.
"What is it, Katsuki?" Your lip quivered but no tears formed in your eyes. You sure felt like crying.
"I shouldn't be with somebody that I don't feel something for anymore. I'm sorry. We're just barely around each other and.. I have other priorities. I don't think I should worry about needing to protect somebody close to me if they're ever caught up in danger."
This was the calmest Bakugou has ever been but yet, this was the angriest you've ever been with him. Was he calling you a damn burden?!
You felt like you shouldn't feel mad. But you did. How long did he feel like this? You were fucking stupid, you should've known from the start. You were both at fault. You should've known what you two were getting into.
You held your head low, jaw clenched tightly. You knew tears were forming when your vision started to become blurry.
"I.. really am sorry." You look at him through your lashes. Although it was blurry, you could tell his face only shown little remorse. You scoff at his half-ass apology, sniffling as you wipe your eyes with your sleeve before any tears escape. "Whatever. Just go, Bakugou."
He nearly winces at the use of his surname. He couldn't even be mad or make a remark at your petty attitude because he couldn't blame you. He's seen the way you looked at him at the times he came home, the way your touch was so yearnful and clinging. Of course, he loved you and wanted to be there for you, but he just didn't love you that way anymore. And he felt terrible about it. About as terrible as his old bullying toward his rival best friend back when they were in middle school. Luckily, instead of him staying, he let you stay in the house. He felt bad. And you hated it.
He had his things packed at the front door, slipping his shoes on. "Hey..."
You were hugging your arms, thumbs rubbing them and trying to soothe your nerves. You warily look up at the ash blonde man, biting your lip. You nearly cry out when he holds his arms out to you. Even in this moment, he was showing his soft side. Holding his arms out was like his signature move throughout your relationship. Your heart urged you to go and envelop yourself in his arms but then again, your heart also said not to. He hurt you, so bad. He hurt your ego and your heart.
When you stood in your place, bottom lip quivering, he sighs. Grabbing his suitcases and opening the door, he looks back at the place and you one last time. He opens his mouth to say something but nothing comes out and that's right when you look up at him with teary eyes that pangs him in the heart.
He sucks in a breath, slightly frowning. "Do you.. Do you think we're together in another universe?"
You dryly laugh, tears escaping your eyes.
"We're not even together in this one."
*+:｡.｡ ｡.｡:+*
A/N:
Honestly wrote this because I wanted to and I love writing angst. Was gonna make Bakugou a huge red flag but we all know that he's changed and that he's developed<3 after the latest chapters, there's no way he hasn't changed
Had to use the "do u think we're together in another universe" blablabla trope, it completed it ᰔᩚ
#Spotify#anime#fanfic#fiction#fantasy#mha fanfiction#bakugou katsuki x reader#mha x reader#angst#heavy angst#mha angst#bakugou scenarios#bakugou katsuki#katsuki bakugou#bakugou x you#breakup#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#dead dove do not eat#hurt/comfort#timeskip au#my hero academia x reader#bnha bakugou
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This is something that's been circulating in my mind ever since they released these photos of Jamie and Nell together at the Creel House:
I speculated a while ago that Vecna would target Mike based on how it would hurt both Will and El (who both have personal connections to Vecna and Mike) and based on the title of the second episode for Season 5: "The Vanishing of ***** Wheeler."
While I still believe it's a possibility Vecna could come after Mike, it's looking more like Holly will be the Wheeler who vanishes in season 5. The pictures released imply Vecna either lures her to the Creel House, or he's targeting Holly using mental manipulation like he's done with his past victims:
I find it interesting Jamie (Vecna) is wearing a suit that looks like it's from the 1950s. I'm still up in the air about whether the show will introduce time-travel as a plot point (which could potentially explain the nature of the Upside Down), so it's currently unclear if this a hallucination, or if Vecna somehow transported Holly back to the 50s with him. For the time being, I'm ruling out time-travel and leaning towards the former idea until proven otherwise.
I also thinks it's noteworthy in this scene that Vecna appears as his normal human self pre-1979 as opposed to how he was post-Upside Down when he was attacking his victims in S4 (lending credence to the idea that this is likely a vision/hallucination from Vecna). The insinuation is he isn't trying to attack or kill Holly at this point in time the same way he did with Chrissy, Fred, Patrick, and Max. Instead, he's putting on a friendly facade for Holly and persuading her to trust him the same way he did with El at Hawkins Lab back in 1979.
Considering the tweet mentions "extras" in this scene, there's the possibility Vecna might also be luring other kids like Holly to the Creel House, or mentally targeting them.
I doubt he's going after Holly or these kids to open more gates since he already done that. Instead, I think his interest in Holly (aside from her being Mike and Nancy's sister) may have to do with Holly's interest in drawing and childlike creativity. By this, I note that one thing both Holly, Will (who was also taken by the Demogorgon under Vecna's control in 1983), and Henry/One/Vecna as a child all have in common is their interest in drawing, creativity, and imagination, and how they channel all 3 of those traits in dealing with their personal lives. In Vecna's case, it lead to him designing the Mind Flayer as a kid, which eventually transitioned to him forming it from the Upside Down environment 20 years later.
I've mentioned several theories in the past about the Upside Down and why time froze the night Will was taken in 1983, as well as why Will was targeted by Vecna, and one of those theories is the idea that the Upside Down is impressionable: It can be terraformed, manipulated, transformed, and have its reality altered. Vecna, for instance, could have been terraforming the Upside Down in the years he was trapped there, but that process stopped in 1983 when El opened the gate and Will was kidnapped. Now, Vecna's looking for a way to restart it again, whether through Will, Holly, or any other kid he can get his hands on, and plans to mentally manipulate them through their imaginations into altering the reality of the Upside Down to his liking.
Best comparison I can make is with what the demon Tak does to a boy named Seth in Stephen King's The Regulators: In the story, Tak possesses Seth as a vessel and begins to alter reality in Seth's hometown by bringing things from his imagination to life, such as transforming Seth's hometown into an Old Western landscape based on a movie called The Regulators that Seth really loves. This ends up creating a dangerous situation for everyone in Seth's neighborhood, especially as Tak's power manifests through Seth's imagination and people start dying because of it.
Likewise, this could be why Vecna is interested in Holly, Will, and other kids like them: He plans to use them by channeling his power through them, and mentally manipulating them through their imaginations, to alter the landscape of the Upside Down to his liking, as well as possibly create something horrific enough to wipe Hawkins and its residents off the face of the earth. Using them as a source or a battery to expand his reach to other parts of the Earth.
This is a theory in development though, so we'll have to wait and see how things turn out.
#stranger things#st5 spoilers#st5 theories#stranger things season 5#holly wheeler#will byers#vecna#henry creel#number 1#el hopper#stranger things 5#tgh opinions#nell fisher#jamie campbell bower#the upside down
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3.130 Whoop that trick
At dawn, Sophia got up to pee, so I pulled myself out of bed to make breakfast because I knew she'd be hungry and head for the kitchen next. I felt like trying my French toast recipe again, as I hadn't perfected it yet. Cooking for Sophia had proven to be even more frustrating than cooking for Dad, because nearly everything contained dairy in some form. Scouring the internet every day for something new to try had gotten really old, so I started buying plant-based milk for my sanity. I think she appreciated it too because sometimes the temptation to eat dairy was so strong she gave in, damning the discomfort of bubble guts. How anyone could live life without cheese, I didn't know.
"Mmmmm, that smells so good," Sophia cooed.
"Thanks. I think I got it right this time."
The plant-based milk worked well for most things, but I needed to make adjustments to my custard. In my initial trials, either the bread came out too soggy, or it developed an eggy crust while it cooked. Everything looked perfect this time, so I hoped to remember what I did for next time.
"Okay, so hear me out," she started.
I had no idea what she was about to suggest, but I knew it would involve her not resting at home.
"It's Night Out on the Town tonight! We should go."
"Is that a good idea? You're due literally at any moment now."
"Okay, yeah, but this might be our last night as a child-free couple! We should spend some time together before we have to start scheduling it."
I wanted to come up with an irrefutable rebuttal, but I had none. Her logic was sound, as always. She'd been cooped up inside a lot lately, anyway. It wouldn't hurt to leave the house for a little while. It's not like we were going jogging around the lake or anything.
"Okay. But we're going to stay in town. There's a nice restaurant in Anchorpoint Wharf I've been wanting to take you to."
She clapped and did a little happy jig in her chair. I loved that woman.
Kooper and Rosie were getting old. Their coats turned gray, they slept a lot, and they walked a little slower. None of that seemed to stop them from running around the house like a pair of puppies, though. Rosie still demanded that Kooper play with her and dashed around the house and yard like she was training for a marathon. I loved that their age didn't stop them from having a good time. I was playing with Kooper when I realized something that stopped me dead in my tracks.
"Oh my Watcher," I shouted.
Sophia was behind me, asking what was the matter. I didn't mean to startle her, but it just occurred to me that Alessia might have her babies today!
"We need to get to Mama's house!"
She started to ask why, but I had already dialed Dad's number to see if he would come. Once she overheard my end of the conversation, she went upstairs immediately and got dressed. Dad said he was already on his way and would meet us there.
When we arrived, Mama wasted no time checking up on Sophia and loving on her youngest grandchild. She hammered her with a bunch of questions, like if she was getting enough rest and if she had experienced early contractions. All moms were lay doctors, I guess. Just as I had begun to think it was nice to have the whole family together again, loud forbidden words and angry screams rang out from upstairs, followed by rapid stomps heading in our direction.
"I'M GOING TO MURDER HIM," Alessia yelled.
"I'M GOING TO FIND HIM AND PUNCH IN HIS PRETTY FACE!! AND THEN I'M GOING TO CUT OFF HIS-"
"Whoa, Less," I said. "What in the world happened?"
Her face was as red as a strawberry, and her eyebrows scowled, just like an angry cartoon character. The lasers shooting from her eyes made me want to stay out of her way, but I needed to know what and who upset her so.
"JACE happened!! He's a PUNK!! Ol' llama-faced liar!!! I'M GONNA KILL HIM!"
"What did he do, Less?"
"He went back to his ex! IN MT. KOMOREBI!! And he married her!! He f#@$ing MARRIED her!!! HE SAID HE LOVED ME!! Ever since we found out it was triplets he's been weird!! HE IS DEAD TO ME!!!"
Mama had previously gone to the kitchen, no doubt to be near Dad when she noticed him taking out the trash, leaving only me to diffuse the situation. Alessia's anger was palpable, like an electric current coursing through the room. I had never seen her like that before, and it both scared and fueled me. I tried balling my fists and breathing extra slow and deep to keep myself from going off, but thoughts of confronting that piece of shit and laying hands on him stirred a fire inside me. There was no kind, gentle way to deal with this, and if I ever saw that cowplant turd in the street, it would be on sight! Nobody betrayed my sister and got away with it. I should have known something was up when he bailed at the baby shower. I saw him when we arrived, but after that, he was nowhere to be found. How could he weasel his way into my sister's fortified heart, knock her up, and leave her with THREE babies??? Did he really think running away to the mountain would absolve him of fatherhood? Like, did he not know child support was a thing? And he had THREE to support?? What an idiot! COWARD!! I hoped his wife had a real job because I knew Alessia would try to milk him dry. He'll be sorry he even met her! The sheer audacity of it all made my blood boil.
I was concerned about my niece and nephews and finally got Less to sit down. She didn't exactly calm down, because how could she? But she and I had a great time plotting and scheming against ol' Jace, planning what we'd do to him the next time we saw him. True, that wasn't healthy either, but it sure was fun. Revenge wasn't really Sophia's style, and she remained quiet. She also didn't have a sibling she would take up for at any moment, so she didn't understand why I acted like that and occasionally tried to talk sense into us.
But just like when she was a kid, Less found it hard to sit still and be calm, so she jumped up and paced the room, fuming like a teakettle. Even though he would eventually find out, I hoped Dad was still outside during Alessia's initial rant. Her situation was way too close to home, and I feared it might trigger him, especially being in Mama's house with all of us. But like I said, he would eventually find out. He and Mama came out from wherever they were, asking what all the yelling was about. I guess Mama had enough of Less' pregnant mood swings to come find out immediately. Less filled them in, and I saw a quiet rage growing within my dad. He looked just like how I felt. Maybe we could take another family trip to Mt. Komorebi and murder him together, heh.
I saw Mama eyeing me, as if to silently ask what we should do as the expert on all things mind, body, and soul. But I had no answers for her. My mind was set on destroying Jace, and my body was ready for it. I felt that in my soul, ha!
"I think we all need a dip in the pool," she said. "That should relax these tense mommies, right buddy?"
I sensed both sincerity and sarcasm in her tone, as she seemed disappointed that I provoked instead of diffusing the situation. Either way, she was right. Less definitely needed to calm down, but the rest of us did too, so we got changed and hopped into the pool.
#ISBI challenge#sims 4 story#sims 4 gameplay#adolting#adolting gen 3#emerald pope#luca winston murillo#sophia aguilar#alessia amina murillo#ali murillo#kooper#mccc loves this save a little too much!
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𝐓𝐎𝐗𝐈𝐂!𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐒/𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏.
-> some toxic things he may do as the leader of the Aretas Cartel.
-> warnings: manipulation: mention of toxic relationships, mention of degradation, mention of throwing things, mention of unstable relationships, slight mention of dumbification (I do not glorify these things.)
authors note: please reblog and like if you enjoyed this! please request down below as well. This has obviously been exaggerated and fabricated for entertainment, i’ve taken his character to a more “toxic” angle. I do not agree that his character is wholly like this or WILL do this.
[🕷️] 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍:
-> he would definitely not answer your texts until late at night. You could message him good morning and he would either:
respond with a dry text or not text you back until 6 hours have passed and he finally has free time.
-> i don’t think he does it to you on purpose but his life is so fast paced that he doesn’t really have time to really engage with your “useless” texts. He has much bigger things to concentrate on which is running the cartel and carrying out hits, there are plenty more girls out there who want him.
-> if you ever called him out on this, he would definitely twist it back on you and explain his lifestyle or just simply ghost you again until he’s bored or misses you.
-> he’s definitely a “you chose me knowing what i do” type of person.
-> god forbid if you ever ghost him over text though. He’s definitely popping up at your house and questioning you, initially speaking in an accusatory tone before eventually apologising (kind of), about his distant behaviour.
-> however, i don’t think he means to ghost you for as long as he does. He genuinely gets caught up in his work and is one to blow up when engaging with confrontation which is why he tends to ghost you as a way to not lose you.
-> because what would you rather want him to do? hurt your feelings in an argument? because trust me, you don’t want to argue with him.
[🕷️] 𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒:
-> 100% reactive.
-> He would go from 0 to 100 in a second depending on what you say. Ever mention his family and it’s over.
-> he was literally manipulated by his mother and has daddy issues. definitely not good if you mention them.
-> he would insult every single inch of you, degrading you to the point of where you have no self confidence left.
-> i also think, he may have a tendency to become violent if he really goes off the edge. It may be hard for him to get to that point, (you would really have to piss him off) but he may punch things or throw things while screaming at you in order to scare you.
-> this would be very common and not out of the ordinary as he has saw his own mother brutally die in front of him, violently fighting his dad also.
-> the words he would call you would be so hurtful they would make you think deep into the night when going sleep.
-> the attack on your character, you look, body shape and personality would have you questioning your whole identity and would make you succumb to his insults. Maybe causing you to change the way you act or look just to please him.
-> you’re definitely the one apologising first after an argument.
[🕷️] 𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐏𝐔𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍:
-> “to handle or control something in a skilful manner.”
-> after how he was emotionally manipulated by his mother, who set him up to train for his whole life, to kill a man he thought betrayed her but in actuality was his father would mess him up DIFFERENTLY.
-> he WOULD not let that happen again.
-> he would have some manipulative tendencies that would’ve stemmed from his mother where he was switch a situation back on you,
-> For Example:
-> Let’s say you saw him flirting with a girl at a party you two were both at. If you brought it up to him afterwards he would automatically flip it on you suggesting that: “You’re too insecure,” “He doesn’t have time for this”, “This conversation is pointless”, or even “Can he not live a life outside his dangerous work?”
-> You’re not winning an argument with him.
-> by the end of this relationship, your mind is definitely just focused on him. the emotional manipulation taking a toll on you to the point where he can do no wrong.
-> he would 100% love that, his woman who is just a complete supporter, doesn’t question him and he can use her for his own use? great.
-> however, he would definitely get bored of this and dump you to move onto the next. wanting more of a challenge.
-> he only wanted the self-satisfaction of manipulating you so he could forget how he was easily manipulated.
#imagines#reactions#headcanon#armando aretas#jacob scipio#badboys#badboys ride or die#hot#armando armas#mexican#cartel#fanfiction#fanfic#armando lowry#toxic relationship#fake#headcannons
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Heres an extremely dumbass idea I thought of while rewatching parks and rec through clips
Belos: “Depressed? I’m the furthest thing from depressed. I mean, look at what I’ve accomplished. Do you see them? Do you think a depressed person could make this? No.”
Hunter:” uh…father who are you talking to? There’s no one there”
Here’s the live Caleb reaction
But yeah I just find Caleb showing up to haunt Belos’s ass at random points and judging every life decision he’s making, so then every time Belos has to miserably fail to try to justify everything he’s done ever to (quite literally) dead silent Caleb is kinda funny in a morbid way
This time he is showing off and brings up his two grimwalkers that have lasted the longest beating his record of two years as an example of a good life decision as well as proving that he totally doesn’t need therapy
Ngl I feel bad for Pip as the poor guy just wanted to nap and got picked up just for Belos to prove a point but he stayed asleep through all of it tho
Btw Caleb is trying so hard not to loose his shit just because there’s youngins there and he doesn’t want to wake up Pip by making Belos pissed off so he’s going to stand there in silence even more menacingly and judgemental
I like the idea that despite the weird as fuck origins of Pip and Hunter, Caleb still sees them as his nephews and likes to check up on them every once in a while when he’s not haunting Belos, Caleb checks on Hunter the most because he’s constantly in dangerous situations even inside the castle so it helps Hunter a lot to have Caleb staring daggers at Belos whenever he gets violent towards Hunter because it usually stops him
On the other hand Caleb does like checking on Pip because it’s nice seeing a version of what could have been if Philip had learnt to accept the boiling isles :( also I can imagine it’s nice seeing your great x(insert number) granddaughter continue your wife’s tradition of being a menace to a stuck up society and teaching those ways to your weird mini brother/ nephew.
also fun fact Hooty can see Caleb (don’t ask how) and greatly enjoys chatting to him as Caleb was the one who managed to convince Eve to let hooty stay in their house’s door as a “guard” but really Caleb just felt bad for the wee bug demon as hooty didn’t have a home at the time and thought so he would be a fun addition to the family hence why alongside Lilith, Caleb was one of Hooty’s favourite people
btw nobody really cares or finds it unusual for hooty to just be talking to himself so not one single person has asked about it lmao
Almost forgot to mention but this is actually still a weird memory that Hunter remembers and used to wonder why on the boiling isles did Belos have those random fits of “hallucinations” until he talked about it with Pip.
Pip was just causally like “wait you couldn’t see him?” And walked off… Hunter has never found out or gotten a clear answer if Pip was actually joking or if he could straight up see dead people, Pip refuses to reveal the real answer because he finds Hunter being confused as fuck hilarious
Also if your wondering why Belos doesn’t have the cool mechanical prosthetic staff arm, he usually hides it with a glove :p (this is because a) I’m too lazy to draw such a detailed prosthetic all the time and b) I doubt Belos would like people to know he’s missing an arm as I doubt he would like the idea of seeming “weak” because in his day this would essentially be a death sentence either due to infection or being classed as less than due to not being able to work properly)
#the owl house#toh#toh au#art#original character#golden heir au#the owl house au#oc#owl house au#oc stuff#the golden heir au#hunter the golden guard#hunter the owl house#hunter toh#caleb wittebane#caleb toh#Caleb the owl house#grimwalker oc#belos toh#emperor belos#philip wittebane#philip toh
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A Scoundrel... Or a Gentleman? Ch. 7
We're back and full speed ahead with more smut and angst! Sorry? Kinda? If smut is not your thing, stop reading at the double scene change line.
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Thank you to all the folks who helped get this fic published in the first place! @jrob64 for her beta expertise, encouragement, and listening to me whine and doubt myself. A lot. @snowbellewells and @motherkatereloyshipper for the artwork they made to accompany the fic. And finally to all of you readers. I cannot express to you how much each and every comment, flail, and message y'all have sent mean to me. Thank you all so very VERY MUCH!!!
Words: Just over 5400 of approx 59,5K
Rating: M (smut)
Tags: Regency Romance, Inspired by Francesca Bridgerton's Story, Smut
On ao3 From Beginning / Current Ch
On Tumblr Prologue Ch2 Ch3 Ch4 Ch5 Ch6
Tagging the usuals. Please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed.
@jrob64 @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @the-darkdragonfly @jennjenn615 @donteattheappleshook @undercaffinatednightmare @pirateherokillian @cocohook38 @qualitycoffeethings @booksteaandtoomuchtv @superchocovian @motherkatereloyshipper @snowbellewells @pirateprincessofpizza @djlbg @lfh1226-linda @xarandomdreamx @tiganasummertree @bluewildcatfanatic @anmylica @laianely @resident-of-storybrooke @exhaustedpirate @gingerchangeling @caught-in-the-filter @ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite @captainswan-kellie @soniccat @beckettj @teamhook @whimsicallyenchantedrose @thisonesatellite @jonesfandomfanatic @elfiola @zaharadessert @ilovemesomekillianjones @mie779 @kymbersmith-90 @suwya
Under the cut, unless Tumblr ate it.
The following morning was quite the worst morning in Emma’s recent memory. Only the morning following Liam’s death came close.
She wanted to cry. She wanted to rail. But, oh no, crying was for the innocent, and she certainly wasn’t that. And damn him, but he’d made sure that he had her consent at every step, so she couldn’t rail against him either.
But she could hate herself. She could hate herself for betraying her heart and every last principle she had, all for a bit of passion. She hated that she felt passion for any man besides her husband, and the fact that she felt that passion for Killian? Her husband’s brother? It was unconscionable. Her marriage bed had been one of delight and passion, but nothing could have prepared her for the surge of desire and rapture Killian had awoken within her. Desire and rapture that had gone far beyond anything she’d ever experienced with Liam.
But now, the morning after, she could no longer differentiate between coward and fool. At least when those words applied to herself. For they both surely did. Perhaps with an immature thrown in for good measure.
She could have stayed and faced him, but instead, just like last time, she ran.
She couldn’t really leave Kilmartin, not unless she was planning on visiting Norway for some reason, but it was a large estate, and she could definitely leave the house. If she could just avoid him for one day, she’d be better. Maybe then she could face him and her tumultuous thoughts and feelings.
Courage, she was quite sure, was a vastly overrated virtue.
So, as dawn streaked the skies, she left the house. She wasn’t sure exactly where she was going. As long as her chances of running into Killian were slim to non-existent, it didn’t really matter.
But about an hour into her hike - because she was quite convinced no benevolent higher power would look at her with favor ever again - it began to rain. It started as just a light mist, before quickly becoming a ferocious downpour. She took shelter under the low hanging limbs of a silver birch in a small grove, resigned to waiting out the rain. But when it wasn’t letting up after a half hour, she sat, finally deciding since she was already soaked to the skin and freezing, there was no reason to try and stay clear of the mud on the ground.
And of course, that was how Killian found her, some two hours later.
Good God, it figures he’d look for her. Why couldn’t he be relied on to act like a cad when it truly mattered?
“Is there room for me under there?” he hollered over the still pouring rain.
“Not for you and your horse,” she grumbled.
“What was that?”
“No!” she yelled.
He didn’t listen to her, of course, and led his mount under the branches.
“Emma,” he scolded. “What the hell are you doing out here?”
“Good morning to you, too,” she muttered.
“Do you have any idea how long I’ve been out looking for you?”
“Probably about as long as I’ve been huddled under this tree, I imagine,” she retorted, hotly. She supposed she should be thankful for his appearance, but she was still in a fiendishly foul mood and was quite willing to be contrary just for the sake of, well, being contrary.
Nothing could put a woman in worse spirits than a heaping dose of self-loathing.
Although, she thought rather peevishly, he was most certainly not blameless about last night, and if he thought that her panicked litany of I’m sorrys after the fact absolved him, he was quite mistaken.
“Well, let’s go,” he said, motioning to his mount with his chin.
She kept her gaze on the field beyond their scant shelter. “The rain is letting up.”
He followed her gaze and snorted. “In China, perhaps.”
“I’m quite fine,” she lied.
“Oh, for God’s sake, Emma,” he snapped. “Hate me all you want, but don’t be an idiot.”
“Too late for that,” she grumbled, under her breath.
“Maybe so,” he agreed, demonstrating annoyingly good hearing, “but I’m freezing and want to go home. Believe it or not, right now I have a far greater desire for a cup of tea than I do for you.”
His words should have reassured her, but all she wanted to do was hurl a rock at his head. Then suddenly, the rain did let up. Not completely, but enough.
“The sun will be out in no time,” she said, motioning to the drizzle. “I’m fine.”
“And do you plan to lay here for six hours or more to wait for your dress to dry?” he asked sarcastically. “Or do you just prefer a slow, lingering case of lung fever?”
She glared at him. “You are a horrible man.”
He laughed. “Now that is the first honest thing you’ve said all morning.”
“Is it possible you don’t realize I wish to be alone?” she shot back.
The humor disappeared from his face as quickly as it had appeared. “Is it possible you don’t realize that I don’t wish for you to die from pneumonia? Get on the horse, Emma,” he ordered, in much the same tone he probably used on his sailors in the Navy. “When we are home, you are welcome to lock yourself in your room - for a month if it pleases you - but for now, can we please get out of the blasted rain?”
He was right, of course. But the last thing she wanted was for him to be right about anything. Especially since she was coming to realize she was going to need more than a day - or a week, or a month - to get over last night.
She was going to need a lifetime.
“Killian,” she whispered, hoping to appeal to that part of him that would take pity on cold and wet females, “I can’t be with you right now.”
“For a twenty minute ride?” he snapped again. He suddenly surged forward, grabbed her about the waist, causing her to yelp, and sat her on the back of his horse.
“Killian!” she shrieked.
“Sadly,” he said drily, “not uttered in the same tones as last night.”
She smacked him.
“I deserved that,” he said, mounting behind her, “but not so much as you deserve to be horsewhipped for your foolishness this morning.”
She gasped.
“If you wanted me to kneel at your feet and beg your forgiveness,” he whispered, his lips brushing the shell of her ear, “you shouldn’t have behaved like an idiot and run off in the rain, like you did.”
She huffed. “It wasn’t raining when I left.”
Once they were moving, she wished she had something besides his thighs to grasp for balance, and that he didn’t have to wrap his arm so tightly about her or so high on her ribcage. Gracious, her breasts were practically resting on his forearm.
Nevermind the fact that she was seated right in between his legs, her backside rubbing up against… Well, at least the rain was good for something. He’d be cold and shriveled, and that picture was going a long way toward keeping her own traitorous body in check.
But she had seen him. Seen him as she never thought she would. In all his splendid male glory. Which should have made her laugh, the very words sounding like a joke, but for Killian, they fit. They fit perfectly.
They rode on in silence through the rain. Or if not exactly silence, at least they rode without speaking. But his breath was loud and warm against the side of her face and neck, and she was sure she could feel his heart beating against her back.
Lightning split the sky suddenly, causing the horse to rear. Killian kept him under control, but Emma had been too caught up in the cadence of their mount and Killian’s nearness to notice the way the sky had turned an ugly green that preceded a storm of exquisite violence.
“We’ll have to make for the gardener’s cottage,” Killian shouted. “It’s too dangerous to stay out here the rest of the way to the house.”
Emma’s heart raced. Whether from the fright of the lightning and then the loud clap of thunder or the thought of being alone with Killian in the one-room gardener’s cottage, she wasn’t sure. She knew the cottage was empty as the gardener’s wife had recently delivered twins and the family had moved to a larger dwelling on the other side of the estate.
Killian urged the horse to a canter and it was only a few minutes later that she could see the cottage through the curtain of rain. Killian helped her down when they arrived and bid her go inside and start a fire, while he stabled Rodrick in the small barn nearby.
She hadn’t gotten one started when he entered the cottage about ten minutes later.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t have much experience in that area, I’m afraid. I did find some dry wood in the corner, though.”
He nodded and knelt down in front of the hearth and set to work igniting a flame. It took a few minutes, but he got it started and stood to face her.
“Did you get it going?” she asked, stretching to peek around him.
“Yes, it will be going strong quite soon,” he assured her.
“Good,” she said, taking a step backward until she was stopped by the edge of the bed. “I’ll just be right here.”
He couldn’t help a wry smile at her words. In a one room cabin, where else did she think she would go? He studied her for a moment, until she began to fidget under his scrutiny.
She wouldn’t meet his eyes and the slope of her shoulders was tight, her arms crossed underneath her breasts.
She was angry.
He should have expected it, really. Well, he did expect it. What he didn’t expect was the sting it gave his pride, and his heart as well. He had known, obviously, that she wouldn’t declare her love and undying devotion to him after one passionate encounter, but he’d been just enough of a fool that a tiny corner of him had hoped for just such an outcome.
Who would have thought, after all the years of bad behavior, that he’d emerge a hopeless romantic?
But she would come around. She had to. She’d been very thoroughly compromised. And while, of course she wasn’t a virgin, that still meant something to a woman as principled as Emma.
That left him with a decision to make. Did he wait out her anger? Or did he needle and push her until she was forced to surrender to the inevitability of the situation? The latter seemed preferable and more likely to bring success. If he left her alone, she’d think the problem into oblivion, and perhaps find a way to pretend nothing had ever happened.
“You,” she continued, breaking into his musings, “can remain over there.”
He raised his eyebrow as he followed the line of her pointed finger to the opposite corner of the cottage. “Really?” he drawled.
“I- I think it’s best,” she stammered.
He shrugged indifferently. “Fine.”
“Fine?” The note of surprise in her voice surprised him. He turned to look at her. Did she really think he wouldn’t accede to her wishes?
“Fine.” And then he stood and began to strip.
“What are you doing?” Her voice rose an octave and Killian glanced at her over his shoulder, a small smile on his face.
“Keeping to my corner,” he replied easily. “Like you told me to.”
“You are taking your clothes off,” she informed him, somehow managing to sound shocked and haughty at the same time.
“Yes,” he agreed. “They’re drenched. As are yours. I suggest you do the same.”
“I most certainly will not.”
A small sound passed her lips as he took his shirt off. He glanced over his shoulder again and was pleased to find her still staring at him, her mouth slightly open.
“Put your shirt back on,” she demanded.
“And catch a chill?” he asked. “I don’t think so, Emma. Besides, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.” He shrugged, but then a thought occurred to him. “I beg your pardon, no, it isn’t, actually. I didn’t remove anything but my breeches last night, did I?”
“Get out.” Her voice was low and furious.
He glanced out the window at the sheets of rain still coming down. “I think not,” he chuckled. To emphasize his point, a boom of thunder rattled the cottage to its very foundation. “I am afraid, my dear Emma, that you are stuck with me for the duration. You might want to turn around. I’m about to remove my trousers.”
She let out a small squeak - of surprise or outrage, he couldn’t tell - but she turned away from him.
“Oh, you need to get off the blanket. You’re soaking it.”
For a moment, he thought she’d plant her bottom even more firmly against it, just to defy him, but her good sense obviously won out, because she rose and shook off the droplets she’d left behind.
He walked over and grabbed the other blanket for himself. It wasn’t as large as the one she held, but it would do.
“I’m covered,” he informed her once he was back in his corner.
She turned around. Slowly. And with one eye closed.
Killian was sorely tempted to roll his eyes at her. This all seemed rather pointless after what had transpired last night, but if it made her feel better to hold onto the shreds of her maidenly virtue in this way, then so be it.
“You’re shivering.”
“I’m cold.”
“Of course, you are,” he said, thoroughly exasperated. “Your dress is soaked.”
She glared at him.
“Fine. Do what you will, but at least come sit near the fire,” he requested.
She shot him a look of hesitation and this time he did not resist the urge to roll his eyes.
“For heaven’s sake, Emma. I hereby vow not to ravish you. Not this morning and not without your permission.”
She blushed furiously, but she did come closer.
“Warmer?” he asked.
“Quite.”
He stoked the fire in silence for a few moments. When he glanced at her, he saw the lines around her lips had smoothed and her shoulders had also relaxed. Figuring now was as good a time as any, he decided to push her.
“You never answered my question last night,” he said softly, not looking at her.
“What question was that?”
“I believe I asked you to marry me.”
“No, you didn’t,” she replied, staring at the fire, her voice quite calm. “You informed me that you believed we should be married, and then proceeded to list the reasons why.”
“Is that so?” he mused. “I do believe you’re right, now that I think about it. How remiss of me.”
“Do not take that as an invitation to propose,” she said sharply.
“You would have me waste this fabulously romantic moment?” he asked innocently, or as innocently as he could in his state of undress. He cut his eyes towards her and could just see the twitch of humor at the corner of her mouth.
“Very well,” he acquiesced, “I will not ask you to marry me. No matter that a gentleman would insist upon it after what happened…”
“If you were a gentleman,” she snapped, “it wouldn’t have happened at all.”
“There were two of us involved, Emma,” he reminded her softly.
“I know.” The bitterness of her tone had him biting his tongue and regretting his provocation.
But now that he’d decided to stop needling her, he was left with nothing to say. They stayed there in front of the fire, he surreptitiously watching her, trying to determine if she was chilled. He might hold his tongue to spare her feelings, but if she was endangering her health, well, she knew him better than that. He would never allow it.
Every once in a while she looked like she was going to speak. She’d cut her eyes toward him and open her mouth, but then close it again, a small sigh escaping her. He waited to see if she’d summon the courage to say whatever it was she clearly wanted to say.
Finally she spoke, not looking at him. “I’ll consider it.”
He raised his eyebrow in question, inviting her to elaborate.
“Marrying you,” she clarified, keeping her eyes on the fire before them. “I’ll consider it. But I won’t give you an answer now.”
“You might be carrying my child, even now,” he said softly.
“I’m very much aware of that.” She wrapped her arms around her bent knees as if she was trying to present herself as small a target as she could. “When I have that answer, you’ll have yours.”
Killian swallowed hard. He hadn’t made love to her in an effort to get her pregnant. He sought to make her his through the desire he knew she had for him. And now she was basically telling him that she wouldn’t marry him unless she was pregnant.
“I see.” He was proud of how calm his voice was given the anger surging through his veins. Anger he likely had no right to feel, but it was there anyway and he couldn’t ignore it.
“It’s too bad I promised not to ravish you this morning,” he said, a predatory smile spreading over his lips. Her head whipped around to face him. “We could - how do you say it? - seal the deal.”
“Killian…”
“But would you look at the time?” he cut in, reaching for his coat that contained his pocket watch. “It’s only seven minutes before noon.”
“Why?” she asked. He wasn’t exactly sure what she was asking, but he answered her anyway, with the small bit of truth he couldn’t escape.
“Because I want you to marry me.” He leaned toward her as her eyes widened. “Will you kiss me, Emma?”
She shook her head. They were only five feet away from each other, sitting on the floor, so he crawled over to her.
“Will you allow me to kiss you, Emma?”
She didn’t move. She hardly breathed. He leaned toward her.
“I swore to you I wouldn’t ravish you without your permission,” he reminded her, his words a whisper against her lips. Still she didn’t move. “Will you kiss me, Emma?”
She swayed toward him, and he knew she was his.
As his lips touched hers, Emma was once again wondering about the loss of her sanity. Once again he had asked her permission. Once again, he’d given her ample opportunity to scoot away, reject him, and keep herself at a safe distance.
But once again, she couldn’t deny the warm surge of anticipation and desire within her and how it completely took over her good sense. She wasn’t strong enough to deny the physical desire pulling her to him. Enslaving her to his spell.
He cradled her head in his hands, his lips and teeth nibbling and teasing her own, before his hands brushed down her sides - strong, large hands - inching ever closer to the fire he’d kindled within her with his touch.
“Killian,” she breathed. But it wasn’t a plea for him to stop and they both knew it. It was a plea for him to continue. A plea for him to remind her of what it meant to be a woman, of how it felt to be desired, to feel beautiful.
“Mmmmmm,” he hummed against her neck. His fingers worked down the buttons on the back of her dress, and even with as soaked as it was, he removed it in record time, leaving her in only a thin chemise, made nearly transparent by the rain.
“You are so beautiful,” he whispered, his gaze sweeping up and down her nearly naked body. “I can’t… I don’t…”
He trailed away and Emma looked at his face. The expression was something she’d never seen on his all too familiar face. His throat worked - as if the words he wanted to say were simply too large for him to utter - and she could see the glistening of tears in his eyes. These weren’t just words to him, she realized. He was completely overcome, and the power she felt at that realization nearly overcame her.
He lifted her in his arms and carried her over to the bed. He lowered her back to the floor to remove her chemise and she placed her hand on his naked chest.
“No,” she said, quietly. He froze, his eyes darting back and forth between hers. She spoke again before he could react to her simple statement. “I’ll do it.” Her voice was only a whisper and the panic mixed with displeasure that swirled in his eyes melted into what could only be described as awe.
She couldn’t help herself. She wanted this. Needed this. Wanted and needed him. She knew it was wrong, but she was too wicked to stop. He’d made her wicked and she wanted to revel in it. If she was going to do this, she was going all in. She would take what she needed and hope that when it was over, she would come back to her senses.
*~*~*
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She pushed him back onto the bed as he stared at her with eyes of blue fire, his breath stuttered over his parted lips. She stepped back and grabbed the hem of her chemise before she met his hungry gaze.
“Do you want me to take it off?” she whispered.
He nodded.
“Say it,” she demanded, softly. She wanted to know if he was beyond speech. If she could push him as far as he pushed her. If she could enslave him to his needs as he had her.
“Yes.” His voice came out as a whispered groan, somewhere between desire and desperation and Emma felt the thrill of power wielded race down her spine.
Slowly, deliberately, she edged the hem up, from her knees, over her thighs, to nearly her hips.
“Enough?” she asked coyly, licking her lips.
“More,” he demanded.
Demanded? No, she didn’t like that. She’d be making the demands this time.
“Beg me,” she whispered.
“More… please, Emma.”
“Now, that’s more like it,” she said in approval. Before raising the chemise over her hips and baring herself to him, she turned around, lifted it over her bottom, up her back, and then over her head.
She could hear his breath, broken and gasping. Could feel it against her skin. But she didn’t turn around. She let out a moan of her own and ran her fingers over her derriere, up her sides, until she cupped her breasts in each hand. He couldn’t see her, but he’d know what she was doing and it would drive him to the brink.
She heard rustling on the bed, the squeak of the bedframe alerting her to his movement.
“Uh, uh, uh,” she admonished him. “Don’t move.”
“Emmmmmaaaaaaa,” he groaned. His voice was closer now. He must have sat up and been just about to reach for her.
“Lie down.”
“Emma. Emma, please,” he begged.
Emma smiled to herself. “Lie down,” she repeated.
He still didn’t move, obviously trying to decide whether to obey her or not.
“Lie down, if you want me. I won’t tell you again.”
She smiled again as she heard him lay back on the bed. His breath was ragged, and she decided to have mercy on him. She turned, a sultry smile on her lips to see him laid spread out on the bed, his covered cock straining against the fabric.
“That looks uncomfortable,” she said blithely. “You might want to take them off.”
He hadn’t completely undressed earlier, and now with a grunt, he all but tore his undergarments off.
“Oh, my,” she breathed. She’d meant to infuse her words with playful seduction, but she was too amazed to do so. She hadn’t really seen him the night before, and now, here he was before her - strong, lean, and powerful. He was, quite simply, magnificent.
“Very nice,” she purred. She knew she was playing a dangerous game, pushing him to his limit, but she reveled in her power over him and wasn’t ready to let it go just yet.
“Emma… enough.”
“You answer to me, Killian Jones,” she demanded, finally meeting his tortured gaze. “If you want me, you can have me. But I am in charge.”
“Emma, please…”
“I do love it when you beg,” she said. “Those are my terms. What say you?”
She stood before him just out of reach and watched the emotions parade over his face. He finally lay back, still mostly upright, leaned against the wall of the cottage, his eyes twin pools of desire.
“Much better,” she said. “Now what should I do first?” She raised her finger to her chin as if pondering the mysteries of the universe.
“Come here,” he answered gruffly.
“Not quite yet,” she replied. She smiled when his gaze settled on her breasts. He inhaled harshly, his hands clenching and opening again in his agitation. Her nipples hardened even more under his admiration. She cupped herself, offering them up as choicest offerings. “Is this what you want?”
“You know what I want,” he growled. His pupils were completely blown and he clenched at the blanket underneath him.
“Mmm, yes,” she agreed. “But what about in the meantime? Good things come to those who wait, after all.” He groaned in frustration and Emma smiled again. “I wonder what would happen if I did this…” She rolled her nipples between her fingers, shots of pleasure going down her spine at the motion. “I like it,” she said, surprised. She’d never touched herself like this before. Never considered touching herself this way before. And with Killian as her captive audience.
“Oh, my God,” he moaned, throwing his head back, the muscle in his jaw twitching like mad.
“I had no idea I could do this,” she said, arching her back.
“I can do it better,” he groaned.
“Oh, I have no doubt,” she agreed. “Can you promise me something?” She gave her nipples one final roll between her fingers and then stopped and looked at him.
“Anything.”
She moved toward the bed and swatted his hand away when he reached for her.
“Ah, ah, ah,” she chided him. “Nothing more. You may do what I say - exactly what I say - and nothing more.” She climbed up on the bed and crawled on all fours, Killian beneath her, until their faces were only inches apart. He nodded with a jerk. “One hand,” she said. “You may touch me with one hand.”
With a groan that sounded like it was ripped from the depths of his soul, he reached for her. His single hand was enough to hold her entire breast. “Oh, my God,” he moaned as he squeezed her. “Both hands, please, Emma,” he begged.
She couldn’t resist him. Just that single touch was enough to kindle an inferno within her. She nodded, not able to speak, and then he was there, both hands caressing, kneading, squeezing, whipping her into a frenzy.
“Do what I did,” she breathed. A slow smile curled his lips and she realized that she might not be as in command as she thought she was. But he did as she said and rolled her nipples between his fingers. As promised, he was better at it.
Her body bucked and she almost collapsed on top of him. “Take me in your mouth,” she ordered. But her voice no longer held any authority. She was begging and they both knew it.
“Come lower, so I can reach you,” he whispered as he slid down the wall until he was laid out on the mattress. She did, and his lips just barely touched her. His hands grabbed her ribcage and brought her further down so he could have his leisurely way with her. He licked, and laved, and nipped, and suckled, until she was nothing but a bundle of sensation.
She was going to climax just from this, she was sure. But before the knot inside her could burst in exquisite release, he lightly kissed both nipples and spoke. “What would you like now, milady?” he asked politely. “More of this?” He kissed both breasts, swirling his tongue around both nipples wickedly. “Or something else?”
“Something else,” she gasped. She wasn’t ready to fall yet, wanting to draw out the sublime pleasure for a while longer.
“I am yours to command,” he said, just a hint of mocking in his words. “What do you want me to do to you?”
“I want… I want…” She was gasping for breath and couldn’t finish the sentence.
“Shall I offer you some options?”
She nodded.
He trailed a single finger down her torso until he nearly reached the center of her, where the fire blazed the hottest. “I could touch you here,” he said in a whisper, “Or, if you prefer, I could kiss you.”
Emma caught her breath.
“But that presents new questions,” he continued. “Do you lie down and allow me to kneel between your legs, or do you lower yourself down to my mouth? Decisions, decisions,” he mused.
She didn’t know. His fingers probed her and Emma threw her head back in ecstasy, a keening cry ripping from her mouth.
“So, those are our options,” he said, never halting his sure and firm touch. “Or, we could proceed on to the main course.” His other hand guided her down to where he was hard and waiting for her. “You could ride me. Have you ever done that?”
She shook her head.
“Would you like to?”
She nodded.
He grasped her hips and lowered her down until she hovered over his red and weeping cock. “Are you ready for me?” he asked.
She nodded again. “Killian, please.”
“Oh, you beg so nicely, my sweet Emma,” he crooned, lining himself up with her opening. She tried to move her body to take him inside, but he grasped her hips tightly, stopping her progress. “Not too fast,” he said. “Let me move you.” He exerted gentle pressure, edging her down until she felt the stretch of him inside her, so much more than the night before. He felt huge.
“Good?” he asked.
She nodded.
“More?”
She nodded again.
He continued the torturous movement, sliding her onto him, stealing her breath, her voice, her very sanity.
“Slide up and down,” he commanded her softly. Her eyes flew to his. “You can do it, Emma,” he said. “I promise.”
She did as he bade, testing the motion, moaning at the pleasure. She looked down and was surprised to see that he wasn’t completely within her.
“Take all of me,” he urged her.
“I can’t.” And she couldn’t. She was so full right now as they were, he couldn’t possibly fit.
He tightened his grip on her hips and arched his own only slightly, until with astonishing quickness, he embedded himself completely within her. Emma could barely breathe.
“Oh, my God,” he groaned. She sat atop him, not knowing exactly what to do, simply rocking back and forth. His breath came in fits and starts and he began to writhe beneath her. She grasped his shoulders to hold on, to keep her seat, and as she did, she began to move up and down, to take control, to seek pleasure for herself.
“Killian! Oh, Killian!” she cried. He thrust into her at a maddening pace when her strength failed. Every muscle within her tightened. She released his shoulders as her body straightened, and then she screamed as her world quite simply ripped apart.
Beneath her, Killian exploded. His face contorted, his body lifted them both from the bed, and she could feel the throbbing inside that told her he was pouring himself into her. Her name was on his lips, over and over again, like a prayer, decreasing in volume until it was only a whisper into her temple.
“Lie with me.”
She did. And she slept.
For the first time in days, she slept deeply and truly. And the entire time, Killian held her in his arms, his lips at her temple, his hand in her hair.
Whispering her name. And other words as well.
*~*~*
Thank you for reading and sharing! Next ch will be up Friday night before I go to bed.
#a scoundrel... or a gentleman?#krystal writes#inspired by francesca bridgerton's story#banner by snowbellewells#ch art by motherkatereloyshipper
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June 6th, 1755 - Happy Birthday Nathan Hale!!!
We are gonna pretend like this isn’t several days late.
And this post is about to be super long…
Disclaimer: for the entirety of the post, I’m recalling information that was told to me by the tour guide from the Nathan Hale Homestead. If anything I wrote here is incorrect or not complete information, feel free to KINDLY correct me in a comment or repost, I would appreciate that☺️
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Back in May (05/18/24), I visited the Nathan Hale Homestead in Coventry, Connecticut with my sister!!
I always drive by it when I go home from school and I finally got to visit for a tour! They also have a farmers market on grounds in the summertime as well as a couple other events throughout the year. I do hope i get to attend their Halloween ghost stories.
One thing i learned that i guess i didn’t ever realise was that Nathan never actually lived in this house. After his mother passed, Nathan’s father, Deacon Richard Hale and all 9(?) of his children lived together in a very, very small house. It wasnt until after Richard was remarried, that this newer and larger house was built. By this point, i believe Nathan had already moved away to be a teacher in New London.
Here are photos of their medicine cabinet and their fireplace✨
Photos of their piano forte in the sitting room and a drawn family tree.
And this was Deacon Richard Hale’s writing desk. If I remember correctly, he was a deacon in the church and a magistrate. He dealt with small court disputes in their house which I found very silly (and the wax stamp had an H on it idk why that made me die😭)
And here, in one of the upstairs rooms, they displayed artist renditions of what we think Nathan Hale and his brothers looked like. I think Nathan had 9 (?) biological siblings that survived to adulthood, one of which being his sister Johanna. And then i believe he had 3 step siblings after his father remarried (im trying to recall everything the tour guide said).
Johanna isnt depictied in these drawings, its only the brothers, but her room was on display for the tour and it had a lot of windows. The tour guide said it was because she apparently loved to read, so they made sure her room had the most windows for the most light??😭😭🥹🥹
Anyways, all of Nathan’s brothers went to war except for the youngest one. Also, if you look at the years of their deaths, Samuel Hale (the oldest sibling) actually outlived them all?? Which makes me want to scream???? Samuel also didn’t inherit the family farm, it actually went to his brother John.
Joseph Hale- (damn he can get it lowkey..🥵) while in the war was captured by the British and was on a prison ship until he was exchanged and honestly I’ve been thinking about it too much. So glad he didn’t die of dysentery or something. But he did pass of consumption at only 34 which I can’t even handle.
Enoch, went to Yale along with Nathan and they were in the same graduating class which i think is so cutesy. The tour guide also said that one of the pewter steins in one of the sitting rooms (i don’t actually have a photo unfortunately) belonged to Enoch and I wanted to scream, like was it ACTUALLY his???
They had a display of several items they found on the property like coins, buttons, ect. but I didn’t take a photo of that either. It was in the same room as these images of the brothers.
I think we all know Nathan, and quite honestly i didn’t even realise he had so many siblings until this tour. I suppose one could assume given the time period - everyone had like 5+ children. But of all the times i was taught about Nathan Hale (and that was kind of a lot, being a Connecticut resident for my entire life) no one ever mentioned his family or his siblings. There was a portrait of Deacon Richard Hale in the downstairs area- I didn’t realise this in the moment, my sister mentioned it later, but (based on the artist’s rendition) Nathan looked just like his father. I found it really funny when i realised it.
This was Nathan’s hunting rifle as well, another thing that apparently belonged to one of the members of the Hale family that made me want to scream (more on that in my final thoughts).
And last photo (the Turn: Washington’s Spies baddies are gonna LOVE this one)
This is a list of the Yale University (back then, it was just Yale College) honours graduating class of 1773. On it, is Nathan and Enoch Hale of course. But also, Nathan’s friend and “roommate” 👀 (and our favourite spymaster) Benjamin Tallmadge!!!!! I had to keep my mouth shut when the tour guide mentioned that he was on this list, but I was screaming internally and my sister and i made goofy ahh eye contact.
Their names are towards the top, Enoch and Nathan are listed in the third small column while Benjamin is in the sixth one all the way to the right.
Things that i saw/were talked about that i didn’t take a photo of was a shadow drawing of Nathan’s side profile. At some point, Nathan stood in front of a door in the house while someone traced the outline of his shadow onto it. I don’t quite know why that was done..? Perhaps it was for a genuine reason or maybe the Hale siblings were just messing around. But it’s a pretty big deal considering there are actually no true portraits of Nathan or his siblings. Just statues and drawings that are artist renditions based on historical accounts. There was a historian who wrote about Nathan Hale and came in contact with a member of the Hale family (Rebecca Hale, I believe). She told him about the shadow drawing and it was a long and interesting story that I unfortunately don’t remember all the parts to. A piece about the portrait is typed on a paper in the photo of Nathan’s rifle, if you can zoom in, you can read a little more on it.
Their gift shop was also small and cutesy and I spent a lot of money there on books. On display there, they had an old piece of wood from the original house. I got a published copy of Reverend John Hale’s, A Modest Inquiry into the Nature of Witchcraft.
If anyone wasn’t aware, Reverend John Hale (ancestor of Nathan Hale) was called to Salem, Massachusetts from Beverly to assist in the Salem Witch Trials in 1692. He was partially responsible for the persecution of several innocent people however, nearing the end of the trials, he began to disagree with the accusations. He published this firsthand account to condemn the actions of those involved with the trials and I’ve always thought it was so interesting. I’ve wanted to read this since I read The Crucible back in high school and i was very excited to see it at the gift shop.
You can also visit the Hale Farm in Beverly, MA where Rev. John Hale used to live and I want to someday. I’ve only ever been outside of it, I’ve never properly visited for a tour. (Cutesy fact as well: Rev. John’s Hale’s birthday is June 3rd, which is only 3 days before Nathan’s).
Final Thoughts:
The Hale Family was absolutely MASSIVE. Our tour guide mentioned being a descendant of the Hale Family and im sure a number of “born and raised” New England residents are as well somewhere in their ancestry. Based on the drawn family tree, most of the members had probably 4 kids minimum and then those kids all had a ton of kids. It’s also very funny to me how there are probably several Hale’s who are decently significant figures in history and it’s just wild that it’s all one family. I know it’s the same for royal families and such but it feels different somehow.
According to our tour guide, one theory about how Nathan Hale was captured was by Robert Rogers. That Rogers invited him to dinner and convinced Nathan that he was also part of the Continental Army. Nathan then confided his mission in Rogers and was lured into a false sense of security that lead to him being captured. Which is another one for the Turn baddies that almost made me die when I heard it. Especially since I don’t believe I’ve heard that theory before.
Something I did really enjoy about this tour was how it didn’t completely focus on Nathan. Of course that would have been fine and equally as interesting, but it was mainly a lesson on his family and some of his descendants. After being taught about Nathan Hale so many times, I had no idea about his entire family and his siblings.
It also never TRULY occurred to me that there aren’t any real portraits of Nathan Hale. They’ve all been artist renditions as paintings or statues based on historical descriptions of him and something about that is extremely wild to me. It makes me somewhat grateful for our easy access to camera and video in our modern world. There are so many faces and stories that have been completely lost to time - even some very significant historical figures have little to no surviving images. Like, we know who they are and that they were here at some point - we have their belongings and things that they used. Thats why seeing Nathan’s rifle in the bedroom or Enoch’s stein in the sitting room cause me to have such visceral reactions. This was theirs once. This was used by someone probably everyday. And now its almost like a ghost or memory of them. The land around the property is heavily wooded as well, lots of trees and stones. My sister and I took a short walk around the property before leaving and it really made me think: how many of these stones did they touch? How many of these large trees did they lean on? It drives me so insane honestly.
One last thing that hadn’t occurred to me before this trip was how the Hale family learned of Nathan’s hanging. According to the tour guide, Enoch and a couple his brothers had heard of a Hale being found guilty of espionage and being hanged. And after looking into it more, Enoch did confirm that it was Nathan and sent word to the rest of the family. It’s said that before being hanged, Nathan only asked for a few things: A priest (which he did not get), parchment, quill and ink for writing. He wrote a letter to his commanding officer and one to his family. According to the guide, i believe neither one was sent. Perhaps the one to the officer was sent, however he never received it because he was killed in battle before he had the chance. And allegedly, the one written to the Hale family was seized by the British and was likely used as a written confession rather than being sent home to Nathan’s family. I honestly can’t imagine how upsetting that must’ve been for all of them. Especially with each of the Hale brothers being in the war and likely all in different places, there wasn’t really any other way for them to find out that their own brother was hanged aside from the way everyone else learned of it - through the newspaper or by word of mouth. No other Hale brother died in the war either, they all survived and had relatively high rankings by the time the war was over.
~~~
So that was my trip, it was fun and informative and I would really love to visit again sometime. I highly recommend anyone who is a fan of history, or Turn: Washington’s Spies to visit if you can! They are only open seasonally though, and only on weekends. They do a tour every hour, so plan accordingly if you want to visit!
#amrev#turn amc#george washington#ben tallmadge#nathan hale#hale homestead#coventry#Connecticut#american revolution#turn washington's spies#abe woodhull#caleb brewster#hale family#hamilton#american history#historical#1700s#new england
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Hiii Anna 💕💕💕
Ooh so many of these wips sound so good!
1,3,6,9,32,34,44
-❤️🪐
hiii tysm 🥰 hope you enjoy these snippets!! 💕
archer
Buck stared at Eddie. He wanted him so much his chest ached with it, but he was terrified to make a move. Eddie was his best friend, and what if making a move made things awkward between them? What if Eddie wasn't even interested to begin with? What if he was interested, they made a go of it, but then things didn't work out?
Buck didn't think he could cope with losing his best friend. Eddie was the best friend he'd ever had, possibly the only best friend he'd ever had. All other friends had been casual. He was liked by many people because he strove to be accepted, but never before had he had someone as important as Eddie in his life.
He didn't want to lose him.
boxer briefs
Buck also came to a stop, feeling his cheeks turn pink and resisting the urge to put his hands in front of his crotch; he wasn't naked after all. But he was painfully aware that he had a hell of a lot of skin on show right now and Eddie was definitely not staring at his face.
"Hey," Buck said, the word coming out as a bit of a squeak. "Sorry, I uh—"
"I think I'm gay," Eddie said.
(click the title for another snippet from this wip)
buck zoned out/daydreaming
"I don't know what you mean," Buck said, avoiding the truth and telling himself to stop looking at Eddie's mouth.
"Yes you do," Eddie said, his lips curving into a smirk and his arms coming up to rest on the wall on either side of Buck's head.
Now boxed in, Buck had nowhere to go. Eddie was leaning in closer, closer, and Buck's skin felt like it was on fire. He wanted to reach out and grab Eddie, pulling their bodies together and kissing him passionately.
"Buck?"
"Yes Eddie?" he asked quietly.
"Can you help me with this?"
Suddenly snapping out of his daydream, Buck –
😉 (click the title above if you want to read another snippet from this wip)
chris watches
Weeks passed. Christopher watched his dad and his Buck continue to smile and laugh and hang out together. They always spent time with him as well, but now that Chris was paying attention he realised that there were a lot of times when the two adults would hang out by themselves as well.
They would be having dinner and his dad would say something like, "the other day when Buck and I..." and he wasn't talking about work.
His dad and his Buck hung out on days off while Chris was at school, going to see movies or just going for drives or finding projects to work on together around the house. The more he became aware of it, the more Chris realised they were together way more than he had thought they were. It was like they were joined at the hip.
And he began to wonder... were they already together?
And if they were, why were they keeping it from him?
nightlight
A crack of lightning split the sky and Buck cringed, trying not to react lest someone realise he was afraid.
They were out for dinner together, safe inside a restaurant. But it was storming outside and Buck had a clear view out the window, plus the thunder was loud enough to be heard above the constant chatter every now and then.
Feeling a hand on his arm, he looked over to see Eddie with his head close.
"You okay?"
"Of course," Buck said with an easy grin. "Why wouldn't I be?"
oh buck
"I'm coming in."
Turning the handle, Eddie opened the door and found himself looking down on Buck's hunched form. The other man was sitting on the tiles, curled inwards with his hands wrapped around his head. For someone so tall and strong, he looked incredibly small and fragile.
"Oh, Buck…" Eddie whispered, carefully crossing over to him and sitting down too. He ran his fingers through some of Buck's hair before wrapping himself around him, holding him securely. "I'm here," he murmured. "I've got you."
will you...?
"I said yes," he repeated, then stood up so that they were equal with each other and reached a hand out. "Yes, Eddie. I'd love to go on a date with you."
Eddie's frown slid from his face, leaving behind a look of dismay.
Buck felt as though someone had dropped a stone down his throat.
"Was that… not what you were going to say?" he asked slowly, curling his fingers into a fist as he lowered his hand to his side again.
Looking extremely pained, Eddie said, "Uh… no. Um. I was gonna ask if you could watch Chris for me."
Forcing himself to nod, Buck pushed down his disappointment and pasted on a smile.
-
Click here for more of my wip snippets
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#buddie wip#buddie wips#buddie fic#buddie#tagged#wip tag game#usermoonsharky#will you wip#oh buck wip#nightlight wip#chris watches wip#daydream wip#archer wip#disaster writes
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Feel like every time I write something where the characters live in a house, I imagine the same layout every single time
#it is not a house i have ever been in either#its just what always comes to mind#it is front door#kitchen to the left#living room to the right#downstairs bathroom beyond that at the end of the hall#then stairs#those are variabley on the left or right#but right after the entryway to either the living room or kitchen#then upstairs theres a hall bathroom right at the top#then right past that#the master bedroom (with ensuite)#then another bedroom on the other side of the hall#another variable is how many bedrooms#but 2 is pretty standard#i dont know why thats what my brain produces every single time#but it does#oh#and downstairs bathroom is a half bath i should say#i feel like that is just like my ideal house layout for some reason
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