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taegimood · 4 months

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— phone sex with bestfriend!taehyun ♡ [one-shot]

pairing: kang taehyun x fem!reader rating: nsfw, mdni wc: 1.1k warnings: smut, perv!reader, dom!tyun, pet names (baby, angel, princess), brief use of daddy kink, mutual masturbation, light degradation (reader receiving)

a/n - we always talk abt perv!txt but what about perv!reader…

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it’s not always easy being friends with tomorrow x together. with your vastly opposite schedules, you always end up in bed already by the time your best friend taehyun calls for your daily check-ins with each other — though covertly you’re glad for the late timing, because you have a dirty little secret: it means that you get to hear his deep, sleepy, sexy voice right in your ear every night. not that you could ever tell him that.

it wasn't always this way; there was a time when taehyun didn't make your heart skip a beat and your pussy throb, when even the thought of him in such a light as this would cause your nose to wrinkle up in disgust. he's your best friend, after all. how could you ever see him as anything different?

but then his gym membership started. or maybe it was the way that he grew out his hair. or the new glasses that soobin convinced him to try wearing.. or even the sweatshirts you'd forget in his dorm that he'd always end up walking around in himself, sweatshirts that returned swimming in the scent of him each time you got them back. whatever it was, you just know that something changed in the way that you saw him. in the way that you needed him.

the thoughts you'd chase away began to turn into wet dreams — ones that you would wake up from feeling just as desperate as you were confused — and those dreams soon turned into lingering fantasies that you just couldn't shake away, no matter how shameful it felt to harbor them. and now some time later, here you are, completely wrapped around taehyun's finger without him even knowing it, willing to crumble at his feet in an instant if he asked; putty in his pretty hands with each nightly phone call that you just can never seem to get enough of.

this time you’re feeling particularly needy, however, his call coming later than usual when you just can’t stop thinking about him, about his voice; you won’t lie and say that you don’t often touch yourself while he talks to you about his day, bringing yourself to a whiny climax the minute he hangs up for the night and you’re safe to make all the noise that you want.

this time, though.. you just couldn’t wait. your shorts and panties have long since been discarded on the bed when your phone rings, and you hesitate; your mind is foggy with need, it just feels too good to stop.. you need to hear his voice so bad.. you can keep quiet, right? right?

you know that it’s wrong. you know that you shouldn’t.

but you press the green answer button with trembling fingers, biting down hard on your bottom lip to stop a moan from escaping as his low voice hums your nickname through the speaker - “hey, y/n/n. sorry i’m late.”

you take a slow breath to compose yourself before responding. “hi tyunnie. s’okay.” the conversation carries on normally at first — to him at least. you’re two fingers deep in your throbbing pussy as he’s murmuring tiredly about their latest choreography when you notice too late that taehyun has stopped speaking. you quickly curb the tiny pants that had been escaping your lips, but your fingers seem to have a mind of their own, continuing their squelching ministrations as you beg in your mind for him to continue speaking, to say something, anything.

“y/n.”

your breath hitches. your fingers pause.

something in his tone has shifted.

a few beats pass.

“are you… touching yourself?”

that does it. you can’t hold back anymore. “taehyun,” you whimper pathetically in response, head tipping back into the pillows as your eyes squeeze shut, fingers working faster as your walls squeeze around them — simultaneous with the humiliation and shame of being caught. “tyunnie, ‘m sorry, i- i just needed you so bad.. ‘m sorry-“

“where do you need me, baby?”

your brain short-circuits at the sudden switch in your best friend’s tone. at the pet name dripping from his lips. his voice is impossibly deeper and impossibly more dangerous; dangerous for your health, as you’ve never ever heard him sound so utterly sexy before. you don’t know what to say. you didn’t expect this.

“i… i..”

“use your words,” he whispers, and you can hear some shifting on his end of the line; god, you hope he’s doing what you think he’s doing.

“i.. i need you…” you swallow hard, “i need you in my… in my pussy.” your voice is small, meek, and his responsive hum sends shivers straight down to your sopping cunt.

“what’s wrong, angel? feeling shy now? when you were just in the middle of fucking yourself with those cute little fingers like a little perv as i’m over here talking about my day? tsk..” you moan, loudly, at the degradation — who knew how badly you needed him to scold you like this?

“‘m sorry.. ‘m sorry, daddy..” at this point your voice is a breathless, whiny whisper; you’re so sensitive that you’re sure the slightest breeze could blow you away right now. you don’t even realize what you said until taehyun’s deep groan cuts through the speaker.

“fuck.”

you can hear him fisting his own cock now, and you’ve never been more jealous of another person’s hand.

“keep touching yourself for me, baby. just imagine that i’m right there... bet you wish it were my fingers buried in your cunt instead, don’t you?”

“yes! ugh, yes.. please, n-need it..” your own fingers are moving impossibly faster now, the lewd wet sounds of your arousal practically pornographic, and you can tell that taehyun hears it loud and clear by the drawn-out moan that he releases from the other end.

“that’s it.. faster, baby.. got you so wet and needy, just on my voice alone, fuck.. such a little fucking pervert.. need daddy that bad? need me to fuck some sense into you?”

“uh huh!” you babble out, nodding your head fervently even though he can’t even see it, “please, please, please.. want your cock, want your fingers, want your mouth- fuck- want everything, tyunnie please, fuck, i’m-“

“cum for me, princess.”

your jaw goes slack as your orgasm wracks through you at his simple command, drool threatening to escape past your lips as you keen for him, the high-pitched, filthy moan spurred on by the sloppy sounds of his cock in his hand.

several hazy moments pass. you lay there breathless, chest heaving as you finally slide your fingers out of your soaked pussy, legs twitching residually as you stare up at your ceiling in disbelief.

no fucking way i just had phone sex with my best friend.

in your daze you don’t realize that taehyun hasn’t said anything; your brows furrow as you glance at your screen to make sure the call didn’t disconnect, but then you hear him shuffling around, the jingling sound of keys sliding off of a hook.

“taehyun..?” you question carefully. did i ruin everything? does he hate me now? does he think i’m disgusting? what if-

“don’t move. i’ll be there in 10.”

“w-what? what do you-“

“i said i’d fuck some sense into you, didn’t i? ass up, baby. i’ll see you soon.”

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riaraa · 4 months

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No Angels by bellarkyy on AO3

A Mixte 1963/Voltaire High fanfiction about Michèle Magnan and Joseph Descamps

Joseph becomes obsessed with Michèle after she is the reason for him losing his eye. But, instead of hating her in the way he expected, he is beyond attracted to her. She won't leave his mind no matter what he does. And as he witnesses her begin her journey of figuring out sexual pleasure, he is happy to insert himself and help her out.

Michèle is drawn to Descamps, has been since the moment she saw him. He is tall and broad and once he has the eyepatch on, his attractiveness becomes exponentially more. With being around so many boys, something about her has changed and she doesn't know how to describe it other than feeling hot all of the time. And, one boy in particular makes her feel like she is burning: Descamps. When he offers to help her discover what true pleasure is despite their past, she can't deny him.

#mixte1963 #mixte #voltaire high #joseph descamps #michèle magnan #michèle x joseph #michèle magnan x joseph descamps #descamps x michèle #vassili schneider #léonie souchaud #mixte 1963 fanfiction #voltaire high fanfiction #joseph descamps fanfiction #michèle magnan fanfiction #michèle x joseph fanfiction #josèle #MJ writes

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cozy-fantasy-corner · 1 month

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Daddy’s Home (Steve Rogers Drabble)

Pairing: Caregiver!Steve Roger x Age Regressor!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of stress, age regression, the use of the word “Daddy” (non-sexual usage)

Word Count: 547

Summary: Steve has a long day at work and his best girl knows exactly what to do to make it all better :)

Author’s Note: This is a sfw age regression fic. Please DNI if you sexualize age regression. It is a coping mechanism. This is a comfort fic.

After a long day at the office, Steve trudged wearily towards his apartment, the weight of his responsibilities as both an Avenger and a leader pressing down on him like a heavy cloak. Each step felt like a struggle, his mind consumed with thoughts of mission reports and training sessions that seemed to stretch on endlessly. Every ounce of his expansive muscle mass wound tight. All he wanted was to get home to his best gal.

As he stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for his floor, Steve felt the exhaustion seeping into his bones, his eyelids heavy with fatigue. Leaning against the wall, he let out a sigh of relief, grateful for the brief respite from the chaos of the day. For a moment, he allowed himself to drift, the image of a warm bath and a cozy blanket beckoning to him like a beacon of comfort in the midst of his exhaustion.

But his moment of peace was rudely interrupted by the loud ding of the elevator doors opening. Before he could take a step towards home, a blur of fluffy curls and cable-knit flew at him, filling the cramped space with warmth and sweet giggles. She was swallowed whole by his favorite sweater. A soft chuckle escaped him, Steve found himself enveloped in the embrace of his beloved, her petite frame fitting perfectly against his tired muscles.

Burying his face in her neck, Steve inhaled deeply, the familiar scent of roses and oranges washing over him like a soothing balm. "Baby, I missed you," he whispered, his voice barely above a breath as he held her close, savoring the feeling of her in his arms. She peppered soft kisses across his gruff face and carded her thin fingers through his long mane. A wistful sigh escaped his lips as her nails gently scraped the nape of his neck.

As they stumbled into their apartment, Steve's heart swelled at the sight that greeted him: a massive pillow fort, expertly constructed and adorned with twinkling fairy lights and their favorite Disney movie ready to play. His exhaustion melted away at the sight of the care and creativity his babygirl had poured into the surprise. Confusion danced across his feature. How on Earth did such a tiny woman get their Alaskan king from the bedroom to the living room.

She had been staring hopefully at his tired weary face, but his look of confusion was mistaken for anger. With a sheepish look about her, she wriggled out of his embrace, her eyes shining with tears.

“Daddy, please don’ be mad. Fri said you needed snuggles n sleeps. I made dis jus for you.” she pleaded mournfully to him. Steve's heart ached at the sight of her tears, his love for her swelling with each passing moment. He smoothed them away with a calloused thumb. Pulling her close, Steve showered her with kisses, his laughter mingling with hers as they sank into the comfort of their makeshift castle, the troubles of the day fading into the background as he curled around her petite frame.

“Oh sweet girl. How could I be mad? This is exactly what I need.” he cooed with a soft chuckle. He rubbed his beard against her soft cheeks and she shrieked out a laugh.

#mj writes #caregiver!steve #little!reader #age regression #crayonfic #fluff #pillowfort #marvel #MCU #Steve Rogers #reader

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whoxeology · 2 months

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⛧☾༺♰Restless♰༻☽⛧

WARNINGS: Mentions of past relationship with Luke, Spoilers for Ep 8 PJO, Angst, Cliffhanger, very much so not canonically accurate, not proofread

W.C: 0.7

A/N: I have not read the books only knowledge I have of PJO is from the movies, TV series, and multiple fics I have read. With that being said this is purely for fun. You are more than welcome to disagree and leave feedback.

A/N: I kinda fell out of my PJO phase after the last episode but I wrote like right after the last episode dropped and forgot to post it 🧍🏻......... its here now 🤗

Again. Again. Again. Again. You continue to hit the dummy over and over again. The wooden sword dug into your palm as it hit the stuffed mannequin. You had hoped that training would help take things off your mind but the events from last night played over and over in your head. It was like a broken record or a taunting little kid annoying and making you bubble with anger.

You weren't supposed to be there. You were supposed to be with Annabeth watching Clarrissa. Annabeth had disappeared and you were left alone with the target. She had made a snarky comment about if you wanted to make friendship bracelets with her since you seem to be glued to her ass. She and you weren’t friends mainly because of how rude she was to Percy. Her comment made you realize that she wasn't Percy's friend and that meant that the prophecy couldn't have been about her.

You had rushed to find Percy and Luke. You couldn’t believe your thoughts you didn't want to think that Luke, amazing boyfriend Luke, your Luke could be the traitor. You had hidden in the treeline just a few feet from Percy and Luke. Everything seemed to be okay which made your chest loosen up a bit. Then you heard it.

“I didn’t think you’d give ’em to Grover to wear.”

“How long have they been doing that? '' Percy’s voice pulled you from your mind. The loud clank of the sword could be heard as it made contact with the dummy. Actually, dummy would be an overstatement at this point. This was just a bag of straw on a pole with a face on it. A face that awfully resembled Luke's. The hitting got harder the pole holding the bag of straw was shaking with every hit.

“Since this morning, they couldn't sleep and as soon as the curfew was over they got up and immediately came here” Annabeth spoke. You knew it was her. She's been periodically checking in on you since you got here.

“Have they eaten or drunk anything at all? It's nearly 100 degrees out here” When was the last time you ate or drank anything. The subtle grumble in your stomach reminded you that it had in fact been a while. You ignored it fueled by anger the hunger faded.

The once loose feeling tightened by a lot. Your chest felt as if you had been hit full force by a bull. Your hands shook as you reached for your sword. The sword Luke had gifted you. Tears spilled from your eyes leaving wet trails down your face and a salt ting on your lips. It was Luke all along. How could your Luke do this? Everything you thought you knew about him. Gone.

“I am your friend.”

The loud crack of your sword drew you from your thoughts. You had broken the wooden sword in half. The large blade splinted jaggedly down the middle. Tossing it aside you hastily pulled out your sword. The beautiful golden glimmer on the handle reminds you of Luke. You swung at the dummy and you swung hard. The harsh bangs were heard throughout the camp.

“She’s going to end up breaking the poor dummy” Percy tried to joke to ease the tension in the air. You didn’t acknowledge the joke still hitting the dummy as if it was Luke all over again.

“Better the dummy than us” Annabeth muttered barely loud enough for you to hear. You swear Luke had said the exact same thing to you when you had pissed off Clarrissa. The memory of you and him laughing turned sour in your mind. A loud almost thunder-sounding crack echoed throughout the camp. Everyone had stopped what they were doing to look at the source. The source was you. You had hit the dummy so hard you had cracked it in half.

You were panting hard. Sweat covered your entire body as your shirt stuck to your back uncomfortably and your bare thighs stuck together the shorts you wore in hopes of keeping you cool failing. Your fingertips were white from how hard you had been gripping your sword. The blood-red gems leave imprints on your palms.

You were still thinking of last night.

“Are you okay you don’t look so good?” You could hear his voice. It was fuzzy and spun around in your head. You turned to face him. To tell him you were fine. You spun around fast only to be met with two Percy Jacksons.

“Huh?” was all you said as your sword slipped from your grasp and you fell to the side. Head hitting the land before it all went black.

“Percy, none of this was meant to betray you”

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mjwiththefangs · 2 days

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Trickery & Daggers, Chapter 6

In which a hungry vampire comes calling. Also on AO3 Masterlist Word count: 1875 Warnings: Vampire bite scene, blood loss.

Astarion is hungry. By the nine hells, he's so hungry. His stomach hurts. The animals he's been feeding on lately have been a welcome improvement for his paltry diet, but even so, it never quite satisfies the overwhelming gnawing in his belly.

Morgana is crouched down, inspecting a dead boar in the road. Ah. Astarion really must remember to clean up after himself in future, he notes. If they discover his nature now, he'll be ostracised, abandoned. He needs the group, he needs her and the protection she grants.

Since he peeked in her journal, and caught her limping, she's been a bit more on edge around him, more withdrawn. He's trying to figure out how he can use what he gleaned to his advantage. Should he casually drop a few elvish phrases in her ear and see how she reacts? The possibilities.

The woman is eyeing him carefully, trying not to be caught looking.

How cute. Well, it would be anyway, if he couldn't see the way the cogs in her head are turning, or feel the vaguest suspicion in her gaze. Curiously though, he can't sense hostility.

That would be something he would remember later.

It is night. They've had a long day, batting at goblins and checking out an abandoned village, even rescuing a gnome from a windmill. They plan to go back tomorrow.

For once, Morgana is not on watch. She's tired to the bones. Her leg has been aching recently. Normally, of course, she can cope and get by just fine. But normally, of course, she isn't hiking every day, or battling or even sleeping rough anymore. It's starting to wear her down.

So, in an attempt to take care of herself, she lies on her back, staring at the roof of her canvas tent, and has a pillow stuffed beneath her knee to alleviate the discomfort.

Her stomach growls as she tries to get comfortable. She has eaten, of course, Gale did rather good with what meagre offerings they brought to him and it went down very nicely with a bottle of blackstaff.

With a sigh, she closes her eyes, trying to shut out everything around her and count her breaths and drift off.

Perhaps it is because she hears something, or she's uncomfortable or even the distracting hunger deep in her belly keeping her awake, that her eyes open at the right moment.

Astarion leans over her in her tent, his mouth wide, revealing a pair of sharp glittering fangs.

“Shit.”

In one hasty motion, he scrabbles back in the small tent, holding one arm in front of himself, exclaiming “no, no- it's not what it looks like!”

“What was it supposed to look like?!” She snaps, hissing under her breath in an attempt to not wake the others.

His mouth opens and closes, failing to come up with a quick answer.

She groans, dragging a hand down her face. She crosses her legs and wearily stares him down.

“You're a vampire.”

“I- yes.”

“Have you killed anyone?”

“Well. Not for food.” his lips quirk at the corner.

She really should have seen this coming. He was far too nonchalant about the dead boar they found on the path. A long pause passes between them. Astarion squirms uncomfortably and Morgana ignores him. It all makes sense, after all.

They both jerk when their tadpoles suddenly react, and she catches a cold glimpse into his unpleasant memories. She feels the ugly blood of a dead rat wash over her tongue and choke her. But it is all the master will allow her to eat.

Then, they're both still. Her eyes meet Astarions, where he glowers from the other end of her sleeping bag.

“You… you ate rats?”

He rolls his eyes. “Yes. Rats, bugs. Whatever… my Master -” he sneers the word “- deemed me worthy of.”

There's a clear distaste in his words, laced with bitterness and venom, and it becomes clear that he would rather not discuss it. So they don't. Not now, anyway.

He's returned his attention to her, leaning forward slightly, imploringly. “I just need a little blood. I could think clearer, fight better- please?”

Can she trust him? Probably no, she reasons, though he hasn't hurt her yet and it's clear his secrecy is formed from self preservation. He's hungry and that's something she's all too familiar with. Maybe they aren't so different after all.

Morgana can feel the persuasive pull of his words, the finely woven manipulation within his soft spoken plea.

She knows this is a bad decision. She knows. And yet, she just can’t bring herself to let him starve.

“Ok.”

Surprise briefly flits across his features before he carefully schools his expression into a smooth grin.

“Let's make ourselves a little more comfortable, shall we?”

And that's how she finds herself on her back in her tent, avoiding looking at the handsome man looming over her as he eyes her throat. Her heart hammers in her chest, waiting, the anticipation is almost too much.

His head dips and she squeezes her eyes shut, bracing.

“Remember to breathe, darling.”

His voice ghosts over her skin before his fangs suddenly pierce her.

Her body jerks and she sucks in a sharp gasp, her eyes snapping open.

It’s like shards of ice in her neck. The pain burns, then fades to a numbing sensation. A soft groan slips from Astarion, his lips latched on her neck, drawing deep of her life blood.

She can feel his hard body pressing closer to her, steadily getting warmer as he drinks, or maybe she's just getting colder. His arms snake around her, clutching at her like a man starved, gripping her tightly.

It feels oddly intimate. Very intimate. But, she finds herself not minding so much. In her peripheral, she can just see the tips of his ears flushing a pretty pink hue.

Cute.

His ear twitches. Her hazy eyes struggle to focus. He can’t have heard me.

Oh, but he did. It takes her a moment to realise what she’s done. Without thinking, she’s inadvertently linked their tadpoles. She can feel his giddiness, how he’s utterly enraptured in her blood, unable to think of anything else. She can feel him growing stronger. She can feel how good it feels, her own warm rich blood washing over his tongue, penetrating all his senses, satisfying a deep rooted craving and need in him.

Unthinkingly, her fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt and another soft noise comes from him. She knows she’s playing a dangerous game, she knows she’s giving him too much, and of course realises he’ll know too, as her thoughts brush against his. He can’t feed for much longer, not if she wants to wake up in the morning anyway, but she just can't bear the thought of leaving him to his hunger.

So she relaxes beneath him, absently reaches for his silver curls, twirling a lock around her finger until her limbs start to feel heavy and her fingertips are numb with cold.

She tries to clear her throat. “Astarion. That’s enough, ok?”

Her voice is soft, the hand she meekly pushes against his chest more so.

It’s like she’s pulled him from a trance, and then suddenly the thread between them breaks, her thoughts her own once again.

He gulps down the last mouthful of her blood, pulling back and dragging his tongue once over the wound, wasting not a drop.

When he finally sits up, his pupils are blown wide, almost completely drowning out the reds of his iris’. A line of red runs down his chin. He looks ecstatic. His face is flushed and he wears a silly grin, his fangs on full display. Morgana hasn’t seen him like this before, and briefly finds herself thinking it suits him.

“That- that was amazing.” He laughs breathlessly, full of wonder. “My mind is finally clear. I feel strong, I feel… happy.”

Morgana pushes herself up onto one elbow and brushes hair away from her face to look at him. Hells, she’s getting dizzy. Meanwhile, he’s practically glowing, he looks so alive. Her head tips and she shoots him a tired smile.

“I bet you could really kick some ass.”

It seems like he’d almost forgotten she was here, his attention snapping back to her and he almost seems thoughtful. “Yes. Well, that shouldn’t take long, so many people need killing.” He breezes.

She chuckles again. What a strange elf he is.

Her body feels so heavy. The feel of her pillow under her head is a welcome one and she melts into it, spots swimming in her vision.

“Are you alright?”

Oh. Astarion is still here.

She must be taking too long to answer.

“Morgana?”

Her eyes blink a few times, finally locking on to his handsome features. Her blood is still on his chin. He’s cautiously scooted nearer, hovering not too far from her. Has he ever said her name before? She’s not sure.

Oh, wait, she needs to answer him.

With some effort, she waves her hand. “I feel tired. Woozy. Like I need to sleep for a week.” She sighs, further sinking into her bed. “I’ll be ok.”

That seems to have been a satisfactory answer.

“In that case, if you’ll excuse me, you’re invigorating, but I need something more filling.” The vampire mock bows to her and rises to his feet, carefully stepping towards the tent exit.

Part of her wants to ask him about himself, or just to confirm that she can and will be asking him come the dawn. Alas, she doesn’t have the strength.

Astarion stops short just before the exit. Curious.

He turns, looking over his shoulder. “This is a gift, you know. I won't forget it.”

And with that, he is gone. She forgot to tell him he missed a bit.

As she drifts off, back into a dreamless sleep, listening to the vampire’s footsteps fade into the distance, a vague part of her mind notes that she doesn’t feel hungry anymore.

Astarion’s undead heart is thrumming with life. His body feels as though it is buzzing beneath the surface of his skin, stronger than he has felt before, brimming with a power all his own. All thanks to her; to her blood.

Honestly, he hadn’t expected her to allow him to bite her, but then she had been more curious rather than hostile earlier that day.

The blood of a thinking creature.

He had tasted her, bit her, drank deep of her blood, and not only had she let him, but he learned something.

He can deny Cazador.

He won’t ever control me again.

Astarions mouth stretches into a feral grin. He’s free.

His pulse thrums, full of energy. He is itching to hunt. His senses are stronger than ever, he can hear for what must be miles, from the rustling in the grass, to the sound of his willing blood donor as she rolls onto her side to sleep. Even her weakened heartbeat, still stubborn and beating despite its lethargy.

He is desperate to hunt and kill and drain something. Anything.

In the near distance, he catches the scent of young stag.

Yes, that will do nicely.

Astarion sets off running.

#mj writes #fanfiction #astarion #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 tav #baldurs gate fanfic #baldurs gate fanfiction #bg3 fanfic #vampire fiction #astarion bite scene #trickery and daggers #trickery & daggers #morgana the warlock

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marijayne-writing · 2 months

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stay for dinner

chapter four of if I glued myself shut is up, and the plot thickens

#zutara #zutara fanfiction #if I glued myself shut #mj writes

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mj-dev · 1 month

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One too many disguises (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/story/304742838-one-too-many-disguises?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_myworks&wp_uname=mjdev2215 A cross over between Marvel and DC universe. TASM/Titans universe

My very first attempt at writing a story.

#crossoverfanfiction #dark #dc #fanfiction #femaleprotagonist #foundfamily #marvel #slowbuild #vigilante #youngadult #books #wattpad #amwriting #mj writes

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heartbellamy · 1 year

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new year, do me

bellarke | rated t | modern au | fluff | new year’s eve & idiots in love

Six years ago, on New Years Eve, Clarke and Bellamy were the only ones of their friends who were single, and suddenly faced with the only ones without someone to kiss at midnight crisis. So, after a few drinks, they made a pact. Or, classic Clarke and Bellamy being idiots about their feelings and taking way too long to get their shit together.

Link in reblog!

#bellarke #bellarkeedit #clarkegriffinedit #bellamyblakeedit #bellarke fanfiction #bellarke fanfic #bellarke au #bellarke fandom #bellamy x clarke #mj writes

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sankta-starkova · 1 year

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SUMMER NIGHTS

summary: beatrice may henderson is a normal 16 year old girl from Hawkins Indiana. But when her brothers best friend goes missing she teams up with a group of kids, two angsty teenagers and her ex-best friend Steve Harrington to defeat the Demogorgan.

pairing: steve harrington x oc

warnings: stranger things style violence, language and imagery. mentions of sex but nothing graphic.

notes: I started writing this in 2020 which seems so strange now and some of the writing is not my best work. if you have read this previously on my wattpad, it will be slightly different as I am improving the overall writing style of it. hope you enjoy :)

SEASON ONE

— the one where bea henderson falls into a strange world that will change her life, probably for the worst, as well as falling for someone from her past she knows she can't have

SEASON TWO

— the one where bea henderson finally feels like she has a place in the world and the rug is pulled out from underneath her almost as fast as it was put there, ruining her senior year

SEASON THREE

— the one where bea henderson has the summer of her dreams after all of the crazy antics of the past two years, that is until she reaises there is a secret plot going on in the mall

SEASON FOUR

— the one where bea henderson becomes a real adult, even if that is put to a stop as soon as it starts due to a new evil turning up in hawkins and splitting the gang up for good

SEASON FIVE

— the one which is yet to be announced by netflix

#summer nights; steve harrington #mj writes #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x oc #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington x henderson!reader #joe keery #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things

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taegimood · 4 months

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— bestfriend!ot5’s reaction to you offering to help with their boner ♡

pairing: ot5 x fem!reader (separate) rating: nsfw, mdni wc: almost 3k oops 😭 warnings: some smut (oral obviously, m receiving), suggestiveness, perviness, pet names (babe, sweetheart, pretty girl), tiniest but brief bit of angst in tyun’s, some alcohol in jun’s, beomgyu being an annoying brat lmao

a/n - this took me forever to start (and to finish.. all in one sitting rip my eyeballs) but i loved writing this omg who wants a pt 2 follow-up 🫢

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yeonjun: this is the moment he’s been waiting for, y’all

it’s just like any other tipsy late-night shit-talk sesh on yeonjun’s living room floor, until it’s not. you’ve been lazily sitting against the foot of his couch facing each other while joking about beomgyu’s latest failure to get laid when somehow the conversation turns to your own personal sex lives. it’s not like you’ve never talked about that stuff with jun before; you’re best friends, after all. but something about tonight feels different. maybe it’s because you’ve been drinking, maybe it’s because the dim lighting of his living room is giving it a strangely sensual vibe, or maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you- facing you with his chin in his hand as his elbow rests up on the couch cushion, eyes more lidded than usual and sculpted collarbone peeking out from the sweater that at some point had slipped down his shoulder- but when the topic turns to your experiences with oral and he’s in the middle of complaining about how his last fling always gave him the worst head, what comes out of your mouth as you suddenly interrupt him is a shock to the both of you.

“i could do better.”

yeonjun’s eyebrows shoot up. the words had died on his lips. your own eyes are wide as you freeze, before fidgeting nervously, attempting damage control. “i mean.. from what i’ve been told. just saying.” you swallow hard as you inwardly kick yourself, avoiding his eyes and his silence as you bring the bottle of soju you’d been sharing to your lips in an attempt to feign casualty.

“is that an offer?”

it’s your turn to be speechless, nearly choking as you set the bottle down a little too hard, turning quickly to stare at him in shock; oh, he’s not joking. he watches you expectantly, a level expression on his face; though if you were to blink, you’d miss the smirk that his lips were threatening to inch up into. when your gaze flickers down to see the tent in his sweatpants that he hasn’t even bothered trying to cover, you swallow hard. the tiny crush you’ve always harbored for your best friend suddenly seems not so unreciprocated after all. you collect yourself. you’ve gotta be cool about this.

“well… do you want it to be?”

your best friend’s hands wrapped in your hair and his shameless moans filling the room as he pumps his cock in and out of your throat isn’t exactly how you imagined the night to go, but here you are! you can already tell from the lewd promises and filthy praises that he’s groaning out as you swallow around him — your legs will definitely be sore in the morning. <3

soobin: soobin.exe has stopped working

he didn’t mean for you to see, he really didn’t. you weren’t supposed to be home for another 15 minutes; what else was he supposed to do when it’s the first time all week that his hermit of a roommate has finally left their shared apartment and he hasn’t been able to comfortably get himself off since last weekend?

your convenience store run ended in disappointment as the tuna gimbap roll you were craving turned up empty on the shelves. with a grumble you had just grabbed the nearest container of ramen and a snack for soobin before trekking back to your apartment sooner than hoped for (by either party..), not in the mood to sit there and eat as you’d originally planned; but unbeknownst to you, soobin hadn’t heard you arrive back home, and also unbeknownst to you, he was stuck in a very… compromising position.

“soob, they didn’t have the- oh, fuck.”

rounding the corner into the living room to see your best friend seated on the couch with his sweatpants shoved down around his hips and his head thrown back as his hand fists up and down his very hard - very big cock - was definitely not on your daily bingo card. (or your lifetime one either, to be quite frank.) at the sound of your voice he’s acting faster than you’ve ever seen him move, a pillow shoved over his lap and his large figure smushed back into the couch cushions so quick that you question whether you even saw his cock at all, or if it was just your mind playing tricks on you. you decide that it wasn’t the latter, however, at the sight of his bright red face and quick, heavy breaths- a deer in headlights as his mouth opens and closes for a few moments, trying to find the words to speak.

you’re in the same boat — what are you supposed to say? hey, sorry that i caught you trying to get yourself off in our shared space that i also own which you’re very much aware of? and by the way your cock is the most beautiful thing i’ve ever seen and i want it in my-

wait, what? you don’t even have time to process the sudden warmth between your thighs as soobin finally finds his words. well, kind of. “i-i’m so sorry, i swear i didn’t- i was just trying to- i thought you’d still be a while, i- it’s been so long since i-“ he cut himself off at the last part, an even deeper blush coming over his cheeks at his accidental admission. wonderful, now she’s gonna think i’m some sort of incel. but the last thing that either of you ever expects is happening as you step forward carefully, approaching his shocked form on the couch before stopping to maintain some distance.

“soob.. do you want help?”

let’s just say that his best friend slotted between his thighs as she bobs her head up and down his fat cock with eager moans and a mix of spit and pre-cum lewdly dribbling down her chin wasn’t exactly on soobin’s bingo card, either. but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t pay you back for it right after. <3

beomgyu: *laughs in your face* 👁️👄👁️ switch-up

um, did he hear that right?? it was an innocent instance of you utterly roasting each other into the grave with bullying remarks, just another tuesday for the pair of you- you’re just sitting on your bed in your usual criss-cross legged gossip-time position when beomgyu apparently decides that he’s bored laughing at something soobin did and chooses you as the better candidate to laugh at instead. the plushie of yours that he’d had resting in his lap is now a method of defense as you attempt to thwap him over the head with your own plushie, yelling at him to “take it back!” as he cackles mercilessly after claiming “at least soobin can get bitches if he stops being shy enough, you’re just an all-around lost cause.”

“you don’t even know what you’re talking about!!!” you whine as you finally manage to knock him onto his back, going in for the kill as your leg swings over one of his, your plushie smushing down into his face as his now-muffled giggles still ring out annoying as ever. “i get bitches too!” you defend yourself, although even your own words immediately cause you to cringe; damn, you really do sound like a loser, huh? but your momentary lapse of attention has beomgyu knocking your plushie away, laughing even louder as he responds “that is EXACTLY what someone who can’t get bitches would say.” you groan and smack his chest, rolling your eyes as he cradles himself dramatically. “you’re literally wrong. i’ve dated before! like once. and there was that other guy from the smoothie place last year.. we, like, hung out a few times.” but you’re mumbling now, pathetic to your own ears as beomgyu’s shit-eating grin grows with each word.

“you’re kinda proving my point, here, babe.” you shiver at the pet name, however condescending his tone may be. god, how is he still so attractive even when you want to strangle the fuck out of him? “you’re so cocky,” you complain with another roll of your eyes, an attempt to both distract yourself from beomgyu and distract beomgyu from the humiliating topic. he sits up to lean back on his hands as it’s clear you’re finished with your little murder attempt. “yeah, cuz of my monster cock.. that can get bitches.”

that’s it. the sudden urge to prove yourself to him overtakes you as you snap back, “i bet your ‘monster cock’ has never even seen head as good as what i can give.” another laugh— until he realizes you’re serious. the smile falls right off of his face. you don’t miss the way his fists clench around the blanket he’s leaning back on; or the slight strain in his voice as he answers, voice suddenly low and almost breathless- “yeah?”

you were right; beomgyu’s cock has never gotten head as good as what you’re giving him right now as your throat bottoms out with a filthy gag, no hesitation when you lift off with a pop before sucking on him hard enough to send his head reeling. you know what.. maybe beomgyu wouldn’t mind being proved wrong more often after all. but of course, he has to prove himself to you now, too. <3

taehyun: “if… you want to” he definitely wants to

taehyun was stressed. that was clear to anybody; the recent storm closing the businesses down for the week, including the local gym, and his own job that he of course relied on to pay rent. you had been over at his apartment when the weather took a turn for the worse; so now here you were, snowed in with no where to go, forced to work from taehyun’s computer, eat his food, and wear his clothes. (the latter of which neither of you would admit to being turned on by. …….yet.) taehyun was doing his best to work out from home with what little equipment he had, although he wasn’t able to do much, which frustrated him to no end — not as much because he was a gym rat, but more because it was his primary stress reliever. so today it doesn’t help, of course, that his pretty best friend is currently sat at his desk in one of his baggy sweatshirts and a pair of sweatpants that she had to roll 6 times to fit her little legs.

he didn’t mean to snap at you. when you accidentally knocked his extra monitor off the desk and onto the floor, cracking the screen, it was just because you turned around too fast— you were excited to see him :(— but it’s the last straw of the day for taehyun. he can’t work out properly, his job isn’t paying him during the off-time, he’s had a constant boner from you hanging around in his clothes all week, and now- now he’ll need to go get his stupid monitor fixed once the weather clears up. “shit, tae, i’m so sorry-“

“god, why are you so fucking clumsy, y/n?”

the silence causes instant realization as his eyes snap up to meet your wide, now-watery ones. “i’m.. i’m sorry..” you whisper, and immediately he wants to punch himself. “fuck,” he groans as he shakes his head, coming to kneel down in front of the chair you were still sitting in. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to snap at you like that. you’re not clumsy. i know it was an accident, please don’t cry.. i’ll pay for the monitor. it wasn’t your fault.” he’s murmuring while he soothes his hand up and down your arm. you’re shaking your head as you wipe at your eyes. “no, no, it’s okay; i know you didn’t mean to snap. i’m still sorry though. let me help pay for it…. i know you’ve been stressed, tyunnie.” you say the last part quieter, gentler as you meet his eyes. he hates that his cock twitches in his pants at something so innocent; but what you say next makes him feel much better about his own perverted thoughts.

you’re nervous about your next words. you really hope you’ve been reading the room right this last week. “let me help you..?”

his eyes widen, before he quickly recovers in an attempt to keep a level expression. “help.. me?” do you mean what he thinks you mean??? “the weather still sucks. there’s not much you can do, sweetheart.” he chuckles, testing the waters with a pet name as he studies your face carefully for a reaction. his eyes flicker down and quickly back up when your thighs squeeze together marginally in response. a-ha. “no, tyun… let me help you here.” you whisper with a soft, testing touch to the band of his sweatpants. oh, so you definitely mean what he thinks you mean.

who really needs the gym or your own closet after all, when you look so pretty on your knees for him with his cock down your throat as he calls you his pretty girl and promises to fuck you so good later just like you deserve? not the two of you, apparently. <3

huening kai: *spits out his drink* coughing fit

kai wasn’t kidding when he told you that he might be too busy to hang out if you came over, although this wasn’t exactly what you’d had in mind. when you headed over to his apartment you figured he was caught up studying for some big exam or something of the like; what you didn’t think you’d find was him yelling into his headset at beomgyu as his fingers flew over the buttons of his controller, leaning forward in his seat with crazy eyes and 3 open cans of energy drinks next to the screen. you sigh. “kai, really? this is what you meant by ‘too busy’..?” he jumps slightly at the sudden sound of your voice in his room, but doesn’t turn around. “y/n! yeah, sorry- i’m just in the middle of- FUCKING MOVE, BEOMGYU! of a tournament right now, been trying to rank up for hours- BEOMGYU!!!”

you wince at the intermittent screaming, plopping down on his bed to watch as you hear gyu’s protests of self-defense piercing through your best friend’s headset. “i think you’ll need a hearing aid after this..” you mumble, receiving no response as expected. however, you get bored after scrolling through your phone for a while, sulking shamelessly at the lack of attention you were receiving — although you were warned that if you came over he might not have any to give. you sigh, but you understand; these tournaments are important to hyuka, even if you couldn’t care less about them yourself. don’t get me wrong, you love gaming too, especially with your friends— especially with kai — but you weren’t exactly as obsessed as they were when it came to being the biggest legend in this group of - you squint - 100 players that this world has ever seen.

selfishly, you had almost even hoped for more from this evening… you’ve been trying to drop hints lately at your feelings for kai, although your level of success was yet to be determined. this would be the first instance all week that you’d have some alone time together; despite his claim to busyness, you still figured you’d try your luck by coming over. you eye the 3 energy drinks and his bouncing legs with a chuckle. what are my options here? hmm.. you’d worn some particularly short shorts tonight, knowing he’d definitely notice the plushness of your thighs.. experimentally, you stand up and approach his desk, standing next to it so he’d be able to see you if he shifted his eyes to the right. “hyuka, want me to get you some water? i don’t think you need any more of these.” you fiddle with one of the cans on his desk. he hums distractedly in response; you can tell he hadn’t heard what you said. “hyuka..” this time you reach out to card your fingers through his hair, effectively causing his fixed stare to snap briefly over to you in surprise; ‘briefly’ turning into a momentary distraction as his gaze catches onto your shorts, flitting back and forth between the screen and your soft thighs. “h-huh?”

“some water?” you repeat innocently. “o-oh, uh, yeah..”

when you come back, to say you’re shocked is an understatement as the bulge in his shorts has seemingly popped up out of no where, and the bright pink blush on his cheeks tells you he knows it, too. you don’t realize you’re standing there staring at it with the glass of water still in your hand until kai quickly mutes his mic, eyes still glued to the screen as he groans “i’m so sorry y/n, please don’t think i’m gross, i- i had no time to grab a pillow, we’re in the middle of a battle and my score is-“ wordlessly, you’re sinking to your knees and situating yourself beneath the desk. his bouncing legs freeze. “what- fuck, w-what are you-“

“can i help you? you can keep playing your game,” you ask sweetly. the sight of your innocent eyes blinking up at him nearly has him cumming in his shorts then and there as he breathes out, “fuck- are you sure?”

you definitely show him how sure you are as you worship his cock with your throat, all sloppy and wet, making sure his mic stays muted so beomgyu can’t hear the way you’re making him whine and moan as he bucks his hips up into your mouth the best he can. now just wait until his tournament is over and he has you all to himself. <3

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riaraa · 4 months

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Chapter 3 of my Michèle Magnan/Joseph Descamps story No Angels is live on AO3!

chapter 1 | chapter 2 | my ao3

Now, he really wants to kiss her. To touch her and taste her brazenly. Instead, he clears his throat and shoves his hands in his pocket so he doesn’t crash their mouths together in public.

It’ll all be worth the wait. There is no greater satisfaction than delayed gratification.

“See you next week?” He asks instead.

She nods before spinning away and walking quickly down the street. As she turns the corner and is out of his sight, he feels the urge to go after her—he hates to see her go.

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cozy-fantasy-corner · 2 months

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Band of Idiots Pt. 4: Coney Island

Pairing: Stucky x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, angst, pining, language, Steve being an angsty cat, mentions of violence, alcohol, illness, death, and fondue-ing

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: Steve, Y/n, and Bucky are as thick as thieves. They spend a day at Coney Island together. Feelings are discovered and lies are told.

Author’s Note: It’s been ages since I’ve updated this fic. My apologies. Life got crazy. I graduated high school, moved out of state for college, and then got super sick. But I’m back and better than ever. My inbox and dms are always open!

(not my gif. credit to the owner)

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Brooklyn summers could be unbearable. The molten heat pounding on the asphalt of a concrete jungle was enough to make any seasoned New Yorker feel faint. The air looked like a blur and felt like it was baking the city alive. The sun a constant, unrelenting oven.

July of 1934 was no different. In fact, it was somehow worse.

Just two weeks ago, Stevie had his fourteenth birthday. And boy was he rearing to go. The torturous temperatures had Stevie acting like an alley cat. He was always yowling about something and picking fights with any and everyone.

Three days this week he’d come home while Miss Sarah was at work cut up and bleeding. I’d be an amazing nurse with the amount of times I’ve given that boy stitches and set his nose.

With Bucky’s new job down at the docks, he couldn’t save Steve so easily from all of his fights like he used to. Poor Buck is so worried about our boy. The thought of him biting off more than he can chew is enough to cause a knot in all of our stomachs. We wouldn’t know what to do without him.

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Today, Bucky had the day off of work and he’d been saving for weeks to take us to Coney Island to blow off some steam. For him, that was spending all his money to impress dames. For Stevie, it was drawing while next to me on a bench or the beach. As for me, I loved to just sit and observe all of the people: the sights, the smells, the sounds.

The train ride to the amusement park was crowded and boiling with body heat. It smelled like stale sweat and old people in the worst way. The screams of children and the loud chatter from other patrons were enough to give me a headache, even with my bad ear. My back was killing me from standing for so long without a break, forcing me to brace myself on Steve and Bucky’s shoulders. Of course, Mister Meat-Head over here was flexin’ his suddenly very toned shoulder under my grip which caused me to blush. Thank God my face was already red from overheating, or he’d have poked fun at me about it.

My shitty lungs were being squeezed by the warm, wet air, and I wheezed slightly. My wheezing was met with Steve’s and a concerned glare from Bucky. I moved my hand to my bag, fumbling for my peppermint oil. My fingers met the cold glass and pried it open near our noses. A deep inhale eased the pressure in my chest.

“You alright, Kiddo?”

“She’s peachy, Buck. We’re on a hot train with a buncha loud, smelly assholes and we both got shit lungs. Wattaya think, ya jerk?” Steve snarked back, radiating thick annoyance. My mouth fell open in shock.

Bucky threw up his hand defensively, a mildly hurt look on his face. Steve was never this cross, even on his worst days. Something was wrong, had been for weeks. Getting into fights, coming home later, skipping meals, being snippy, even to me. Now it was getting worse. I hoped that it wouldn’t ruin our day out, but part of me knew that things would only go downhill from there. And all I could do was brace myself for impact.

I pulled my shoulders closer to my neck and inched towards Buck a little bit. My eyes squeezed themselves shut and I tried to breathe in, hoping for calm. All I got was B.O. and a frown from Steve. He knows I only do that when I’m nervous, and he was the thing making me nervous.

Buck seemed so set on enjoying the day that he glazed over everything and plastered his trademark Bucky Barnes grin on his sweaty face. I almost wanted to pinch his arm just to snap him out of it. No one should smile that much or look that good doing it. Especially not on a train in the summer heat. Honest to God, it was annoying.

Between Mister Sunshine and Mister Scrooge, the day was bound to be interesting to say the least.

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Bucky had stopped to grab me some pop while Steve stormed off, a bit too eager to be rid of us for my taste. A minute piece of my heart crumbled away. Never, in all the years that I had known Steven Grant Rogers, had he voluntarily put distance between us. I couldn’t figure a rhyme or reason, all I could feel in that moment was hurt.

I ambled along the dock, book in hand. The salt-tinged air lapped at my frizzy locks and splotchy skin like a cooling balm. It felt like I could fully exhale finally. Deep breaths were a blessing.

Very little time passed when Buck had bounced up beside me with his angelic grin. His baby fat had melted away in recent months, giving him a devilish yet heavenly appearance. That stupid, perfect grin caught me off guard. I was in awe that my safety net, my friend could possibly be this beautiful. He had always been handsome, but not once in my life had I seen someone, anyone, look so perfect. I wasn’t aware that my feelings for him could grow, but by-golly they did.

Just staring at him wouldn’t do, so I elbowed him in the ribs. His playful pout made my chest squeeze. It wasn’t in the usual painful way like my attacks. It was something new, unfamiliar. He chuckled and pulled me under his arm as we continued down the dock. I felt so small and safe at his side. Tiny jolts of electricity seemed to pass from his skin to mine with every step.

Nestled into Bucky’s side, we meandered towards the rides. A good handful of summers had passed since we’d been able to come here, but we had long outgrown the attractions we were used to. We bickered back and forth about which adventure to choose. I was thankfully able to convince him to take me on the ferris wheel at some point today, but I knew I’d have to let him have his fun first. The way his eyes lit up talking about the Cyclone told me that I wouldn’t have any choice but to go with him. God, I hate roller coasters.

That Godforsaken ride was the bane of my existence, but my boys loved it to death. I always ended up with my head tucked into someone’s chest as we whipped ‘round and ‘round. On especially good days, like today, I was able to hold my lunch down.

Something about this time felt odd. Bucky kept looking at me with a goofy grin. This smile wasn’t his normal endearing, toothy grin; there was something more to it that I couldn’t quite place. That look had my heart pounding in my chest, not from fear, but excitement maybe.

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Many more strange glances were exchanged over the next couple of hours, Steve’s attitude problem mostly forgotten. I couldn’t help but worry that something was wrong with Buck. Over the last 7 years, he had looked at me a lot of ways: worried, annoyed, caring. Today was a whole fresh set that I couldn’t quite name. It made me uneasy, yet giddy at the same time. A tiny, delusional part of me thought that maybe, just maybe the older boy loved me like I loved him. That would be impossible. He loves me like a sister.

The rumble of Bucky’s voice shook me from my thoughts.

“How ‘bout that ferris wheel now? I think I’ve tortured you enough for one day.” he said with a chuckle. I nodded eagerly.

As I went to start walking towards my favorite ride, I felt a hand in mine. Bucky’s. My breath caught in my throat, but I wouldn’t allow myself to freeze up. He couldn’t know how that tiny gesture affected me. Instead, I smiled up at him, squeezing his massive hand as we moved.

Such a simple motion brought all of the thoughts I had shoved to the side crashing forward. My mind was in such a state that I didn’t even realize that we were at the front of the line, about to enter our car. Bucky moved to help me up with his kind smile and I sheepishly accepted.

Damn him. Damn his beautiful smile. Damn his gentlemanly ways.

After we settled beside one another, he took my hand in his again. His calloused thumb smoothed over the back of my velvet soft hand. It was almost like he was trying to tell me something. Lord, I need calm down.

As we reached the top, Buck peeled me away from his side and turned look at me. He had an energy about him like he wanted to say something. His brow was furrowed, his eyes serious. His hands rubbed themselves down his thighs nervously. I couldn’t help but feel a little scared. Bucky is the calm one, the happy one. There has never been something he couldn’t turn into a joke. His brow only set itself this way when he was uncomfortable.

He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out.

I gulped.

This had to be bad, right? But it couldn’t be. Nothing bad could ever come from such beautiful lips. Nothing.

A sudden warmth on my lips jerked me out of my worry. My eyes blew wide in surprise. The warmth was Bucky, more specifically, Bucky’s lips. Everything faded away, even the shock, as I melted into the soft feeling of him against my mouth. His work-hardened hands came up to cup my cheeks while I sat there limp in his arms. We had all kissed on another over the years, light pecks on the cheeks and forehead. This one was different.

Bucky pulled back for air and I sighed softly. Our foreheads met, eyes closed. My body was still limp, but my head spun a million miles a minute. He feels the same way. I’m not crazy. What does this mean? What about Steve?

Steve!

We jumped apart when a sharp, familiar cough pierced through the haze. My startled eyes met Steve’s angry ones. Dread filled my stomach as I clamored away from Buck and onto the platform of the ferris wheel. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

------

Steve grabbed my arm roughly and dragged me towards a building nearby. Buck ran after us, yelling for us to stop. I was filled with panic and guilt. Steve looked like he was going to kill someone, well Bucky specifically.

“What the FUCK was that, Y/N?” Steve growled, fist closing more tightly around my bicep.

Before I could respond, Bucky was towering over both of us looking just as confused as I was. He paused for a second, taking in my shaking figure. His eyes hardened with rage. No one was allowed to scare me, not even Steve. He grabbed his shoulder harshly and spun him around.

“You wanna let her go, Punk?” Buck hissed. Steve bristled and clenched his jaw.

In true Steve fashion, he decided to forgo using his words, leaping straight to using his fists. His fist connected with Bucky’s jaw and I screamed. Bucky shot me a worried glance before pinning Steve to the wall as gently as possible. They stared one another down. All of our chests were heaving.

Steve looked up at our friend with tears brimming his baby blue eyes, “How could you, pal? You know better”.

Bucky’s face softened instantly and my panic grew. Steve has feelings for me?

Buck muttered an apology and let Stevie go. I pushed myself between them, tears rolling down my flushed cheeks. Their gazes on me were piercing, my skin heating under their eyes. I grabbed Bucky’s hand and turned to Steve. He grabbed my free hand and squeezed softly, eyes full of tears and remorse. I put my head on his chest and hugged him tightly.

“Stevie, what’s goin’ on, huh?” I whispered pulling back slightly.

He just croaked, his words seeming to escape him. Buck squeeze my hand, whispering his goodbyes. As the sun dipped low, casting long shadows across the alley, a heavy silence enveloped us. Steve's gaze was distant, lost in the swirl of emotions that had consumed him. I stood there, my heart heavy with the weight of unspoken truths and tangled feelings.

"I... I don't know where to begin," Steve finally murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes searched mine, a mixture of pain and longing flickering within them.

I reached out, gently touching his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath my fingertips. "It's okay, Steve. Whatever it is, we can figure it out together," I said softly, offering him a small, reassuring smile. Of course we could, I love him more than life itself.

He nodded, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. "I... I've been trying to deny it, but... seeing you with Bucky, it just..." His voice trailed off, his expression haunted.

I took a step closer, closing the gap between us. "Steve, whatever you're feeling, it's okay. You don't have to hold it all in," I whispered, my heart aching for him. I didn’t mean to hurt him. We had promised as kids never to harm the other. That promise lay shattered at our feet, and it was all my stupid fucking fault.

Tears welled up in his eyes, reflecting the fading light of the setting sun. "I'm sorry, Y/N. I'm so sorry," he choked out, his voice thick with emotion.

I wrapped my arms around him, holding him close as he buried his face in the crook of my neck. We stood there, clinging to each other in the dwindling light, the weight of our unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. I shushed him softly like Ms. Sarah would, hoping, praying that I could ease his pain with imitation of his mother’s love.

In that moment, amidst the chaos of tangled feelings and fractured relationships, the crushing realization that I had potentially destroyed the most meaningful bond in my life washed over me. One kiss and our worlds had crashed apart.

Steve and I remained locked in our embrace, the warmth of each other's frail presence a balm to our troubled souls. The world seemed to fade away around us, leaving only the echo of our steady heartbeats and the whisper of our shared breaths. Clinging to him seemed to be the only thing keeping the ground from vanishing beneath us. He would never let me fall.

With a gentle touch, I tilted Steve's chin up, meeting his gaze with a tenderness born of years of friendship and unspoken understanding. "I need you to say it." I whisper, my voice cracking under the weight of years of shared memories and unspoken emotions.

Steve's eyes searched mine, his gaze filled with a vulnerability that tore at my heart. "I love Bucky. More than you will ever know, Minnie." he admitted, his voice raw with emotion. Something inside of me fractured.

He loved him? I felt betrayed. Steve had known for years how I felt, and he had kept this to himself. To what, protect me? Tinges of frustration bubbled up inside of me. He had lied to me, let me confide in him in the earliest hours of the morning, given me advice. None of it was in earnest.

My anger fizzled out when I saw the tears falling from his pleading eyes. There wasn’t a way in the world I could stay mad at my Stevie, however betrayed I felt.

I brushed away a stray tear that clung to his cheek, my thumb tracing a gentle path across his skin. "We'll figure it out together, Steve. Whatever comes our way, we'll face it together. All three of us," I promised, the conviction in my words unwavering. He flinched at my mention of all of us. His eyes begged me to keep his feeling for Buck between him and myself. I nodded knowingly, unwilling to betray him.

In that moment, amidst the fading light of a Brooklyn sunset, I knew that this God-forsaken mess was far from over. But as long as we had each other, I was certain that we could weather any storm that lay ahead. And with that knowledge warming my heart, I held Steve a little tighter, silently vowing to never let go.

#Band of Idiots Part 4 Coney Island #stucky x reader #mcu #steven grant rogers #james buchanan barnes #stevie #bucky #hurt/comfort #feelings #young love #confessions #mlm #MJ writes

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