#not that even a third of them make it but still. it's v behind
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A soulmate AU: Steve Harrington x fem!reader [3.7K]
THE TIMELINE
"There was something 'bout you that now I can't remember,
It's the same damn thing that made my heart surrender.
And I miss you on a train, I miss you in the morning,
I never know what to think about.
I think about you."
- About You By The 1975
V. HAWKINS, INDIANA: 1988
Two years had passed since the last gate had closed and despite the aftermath of the “earthquakes,” Vecna had yet to make any sort of reappearance.
Max’s bones healed, eventually, and she regained most of her sight, relying on thick lensed glasses when she grew tired or the words in her books turned blurry. Nancy went to college, Jonathan tried it for a year, Hopper took El on a month-long camping trip to see something other than the town repairing itself and Lucas went to therapy.
Soon, each kid followed suit, attending sessions that eventually helped them sleep a little better because even though they couldn’t tell the person on the other side of the coffee table about monsters and the world under their feet, there had been enough death and suffering to fill the hour with regardless.
Dustin told Steve he should go too and Robin agreed. After Eddie’s funeral, the one where they all stood with Wayne, a guy from the garage Eddie worked at on weekends and the remaining Hellfire members beside a small gravestone, they had another one.
A second ceremony near the woods behind Eddie’s trailer, close to where he died, to where Dustin had found him bleeding and proud. The kids cried and Joyce held on tight to Will while Jonathan hugged Nancy and Dustin punched a tree trunk. It felt better than the first one, easier somehow, when they didn’t have to lie and hide the guilt they had at knowing each and every one of them felt a little shame in having a hand in someone’s else’s death.
But it was closure.
The town healed, roads were repaired, houses rebuilt, new flowers planted in the park in memory of those who had been lost in the accident - the natural disaster that made headlines, the one that no one could have predicted.
Steve helped Dustin clean Eddie’s grave when the spray paint covered the dead boy’s name. Robin stopped crying when she looked in the mirror each morning. Jonathan left his room.
The kids got better. They smiled more, went to the new arcade on opening day, shared slushies and rode their bikes around town again. Joyce visited Wayne when she could, took him pies and meatloaf and eventually got him out of his armchair and into a coffee shop for a full hour. Hopper got his job back, had a ceremony that preceded the funeral he had years before and Robin managed to get her and Steve a sweet gig at the record store that replaced Family Video.
It felt fresh. New. Clean.
So why was Steve still dreaming about gates?
For the third night in a row, he woke up gasping. A yell stuck in his throat that tasted like metal, like blood, and he was drenched. Shirtless, his sheets stuck to his chest, the weight of them tangled around his legs in a sickly familiar way, vines tugging at his ankles. His room was dark, the house empty, too quiet. Quiet enough that his breath ripped from his lungs in harsh pants, his head pounding from the exertion of running in his dream, back in a place that he hadn’t seen in almost twenty one months.
At first, he dreamt of death.
Of Eddie and how they found him lifeless and in Dustin’s arms. How Max was barely conscious in the attic of the Creel House, her body broken in ways that no doctor could understand. He dreamt of how he had pulled Lucas away from her, the boy sobbing and yelling, fighting with more strength than he knew he had as Steve tried to restrain him just enough for the paramedics to get Max into the ambulance.
Then the dreams turned empty. He dreamt of losing everyone, Robin, Dustin, Hop. El was gone, Will too, Mike nowhere to be found. Nancy’s house was empty, Joyce and Jonathan didn’t exist and Steve sat alone in a town that turned grey, crumbling to dust until the vines came back and the clouds turned red.
He ran miles every night, searching for his friends, his family. Woke up to shaking breaths and sore legs like he’d really sprinted across a town that was no longer home and each morning when the sun rose, he sat with a coffee and his bare legs dipped in the pool in his backyard. He stared at the water until the ripples blurred and wondered how long it would take for Barb to come haunt him too, if she’d reappear in his dreams despite the years that had gone by, if she’d come crawling back out of his pool like she used to, dripping wet and with no eyes.
But Barb never came and he stopped dreaming of the kids, stopped hearing Lucas’ screams, stopped seeing Max in a hospital bed with blood coming from her eyes and eventually, one night, he dreamt of a gate that he’d never seen before.
It didn’t even really look like a gate.
Not the ones Steve knew. It wasn’t framed by dead vines, it didn’t pulsate, it didn’t have a red glow coming from its innards. This one didn’t look like rotting flesh, like a wound in the earth that couldn’t be healed. This one wasn’t at the bottom of a lake, lined with wet moss and cracked rocks, it wasn’t in the Munson trailer nor in the middle of the woods.
This one opened on a blank wall in Steve’s bedroom, replacing the shelves where his old basketball trophies sat, where he usually left his pile of clothes before falling into bed. In the dream, it started as a crack, a crumbling of plaster and blue plaid wallpaper and Steve watched it open, a yawning thing that split the room and bathed it in light. It was too bright at first, like blinking into a summer sun. And once the white-hot of it cleared from Steve’s eyes, he saw blue skies and he could smell the ocean.
There were trees he’d never seen before in real life, something out of a movie, tall and green and narrow as they swayed in a breeze he couldn’t really feel from his spot on his bedroom carpet. The buildings were a pinky-peach colour, like clay, with orange slate tiles and there were foundations and statues carved into the walls, water trickling from the mouths of gods and vases that stone faced women held in their marble arms.
It was like looking at a painting, a canvas between his bed and his old desk, framed with olive branches and large, red fruits that protruded from the gates mouth.
Pomegranates.
Steve could smell them, a sweetness that mixed with the ocean air, a kind of freshness that you couldn’t find between the fields and farms that surrounded Hawkins. In the dream, he wanted to move closer but found that he couldn’t, his eyes wide and his bare feet rooted to the spot as he stared at the scene. It felt like a memory the more he looked, the buildings becoming familiar, a baby blue door that looked like somewhere he’d once owned the keys to and the cobbled streets became a well walked way home.
Then, as if he weren’t supposed to really see it, he spotted something move in an upstairs window. Two houses from the front of the gate, with rusted shutters and white linen curtains, he saw a girl stand between them.
A pretty girl, with eyes he knew he’d seen before, in a white dress that he was sure he remembered the feeling of.
The sight of her made Steve’s heart hammer, the dream making him dizzy, the realisation that he knew that girl making the line between unconsciousness and reality a little blurry. He didn’t know her name, or where he knew her from. He didn’t even know where he was looking or why the gate was there.
But he stared and stared until the girls eyes met his and before he could lift his hand, or even try to speak, there was a crack that seemingly came from the sky - the one above Hawkins or the one inside the gate, he didn’t know - but something flashed, the gate went dark and the rip in his bedroom wall stitched itself back up.
He woke up feeling like he’d remembered and forgotten something all at once. Like a book he’d read back in middle school, a photo he’d once misplaced, a song he hadn’t heard in years but still remebered some of the words too.
He knew her. He knew her.
Steve thought about the girl so much, so often, that it didn’t take him long to think of her, to refer to her, as you. You were someone he’d once known, from a memory or another dream, he wasn't sure. It was the same feeling as watching a movie and seeing a pretty actress on screen, in a different outfit with different hair but knowing her face and wondering what show he’d seen her in before.
Except with this, there was an aching want that buried itself in his chest at the sight of you, an awful feeling that grew larger each night. And every time his wall cracked open again, it seemed like his ribs did too. A crushing feeling, a yawning expanse inside his body that made room for the way his heart seemed to grow and grow at the sight of you.
Yearning, that’s what he thought it was. A slow, burning build of it.
The second night, he dreamt of you in a garden. A sprawling, green lawn with a pond so green-blue it made his eyes hurt. There was an awning beside it, a pergola of sorts made of white stone and it had ivy growing between the pillars, covering the roof and reaching down to trail its flowers in the water below. You were closer than before, than you were in the window, and Steve could see the way your lashes hit your cheeks as you looked down, stitching something that you held in your lap.
There was a wicker basket beside you, a loaf of fresh bread wrapped in a cloth and he could still smell pomegranates, sweet and tart. There was a space beside you on the blanket, enough room for two but no one else came.
You were always alone.
Steve tried to talk to you, to reach out and see if this gate worked like the others, if he could walk through into this other world, this other dimension, but it didn’t work.
Not yet, anyway.
You seemed to notice him more on the fifth night, as he watched you walk along the edge of a lake. Your hair was shorter now and your clothes had changed. They look more modern, more like his, the cabins behind you reminiscent of a summer camp, a holiday lodge or something. He could hear music, a song he swore he heard on the radio not too long ago and that night, you watched him back.
It seemed like you were waiting for someone. And when Steve saw your face light up with a smile, his heart stumbled. You raised your arm, reaching out a hand to the edge of the gate, off to the side as if someone else was in Steve’s walls. He saw another hand reach for yours, larger, definitely male, with a freckle where the thumb joined the palm.
The jealousy he felt was unmatched, a burning thing that scorched his chest and his throat, hot needles at the back of his mouth. Before the man came into view, the crack in his wall trembled and the gate stitched itself closed once more, leaving plaster dust and flakes of paint on his carpet.
Apart from the small mess, no one would have ever guessed another world opened up inside of Steve Harrington’s bedroom each night.
It took him a week and half to notice his hand had a freckle in the same spot. A small beauty mark he’d never really paid attention to before, painted in the space that joined his thumb to his hand. He tried not to read too much into it, tried not to hold onto the hope that maybe it meant something - because none of this made sense, not really.
They were just dreams. Strange things, brain scrambling things. But it was a welcome reprieve from death and darkness and vines that held onto him too tight. He no longer woke up in a cold sweat, he no longer wished for morning to come, no matter how tired he felt when he opened his eyes.
Steve wondered if anyone else was experiencing these kinds of dreams. If the rest of the party were getting glimpses of other worlds, other timelines. He wasn’t sure what they were, too scared to ask, too afraid to make everyone else worry. The thought that these dreams could be a trick crossed his mind more than once, a new tactic from Vecna, an infiltration of his sleep that was meant to lull him into some kind of false sense of security.
Safety - an unknown feeling.
But everyone else spent their days talking about school and their new bosses, the fair that was coming to town to celebrate the town hall finally being rebuilt. No one mentioned Vecna or dreams or gates or girls they knew from somewhere they couldn’t place.
So Steve accepted the fact that whatever these dreams were - whatever they meant - they were just for him. Which meant that you were his too.
Weeks went by with Steve viewing you from the split in his wall, sometimes hearing music, sometimes hearing your muffled voice. Never real words, never loud enough to hear and it didn’t seem like you could hear him either. But Steve watched, enraptured, following you around different parts of the world, new countries and scenes that he could never really place but, oh my god, each one felt like home with you in it.
Then one night, he saw himself.
He felt the surge of panic flood him even in his sleep, his body jolting against his bed as he saw the familiar face, staring back at him, nonplussed. He looked a little different, maybe older. His hair was shorter at the back, cropped closer to the nape of his neck but the biggest difference was how happy he looked.
This Steve, the one in his dream, inside this gate - this Steve from another time, another life - he looked lighter. He didn’t have purple smudges under his eyes, no deep lines settling across his forehead from frowning so much. His clothes were different too, looser, less fitting, the colours more muted. He wore a pair of jeans that looked much more comfortable than his tight Levi’s, a soft burgundy sweater that had the sleeves rolled up.
Steve didn’t recognise where this dream took place, but he knew it wasn’t Hawkins. America, yeah, the street signs and licence plates on the cars in the street giving that detail away, but he wasn’t too sure where. The buildings were bigger, shinier, more glass than brick but the skies were still blue and it looked peaceful, warm.
Safe.
Dream Steve strolled down the sidewalk with his hands in his pockets, looking back over his shoulder every now and then as if to make sure the real Steve was following him. He walked past storefronts and stopped to pet a dog, a golden retriever who was waiting for his owner outside of a bakery. When he came to a bookstore, Steve could see a large building in the distance, a huge billboard atop it that looked like it was advertising a new movie, or a show maybe. It didn’t have much details on it, no actors nor dates to tell what year this was supposed to be.
Certainly not 1988.
It only had lettering across it, big and bold and red against a pristine white background: “ANOTHER LIFE.”
The bell to the bookstore jingled and then Steve saw you. As pretty as you had been in every other gate, every other world, every other lifetime. Like a figurine inside a snow globe, like something from a fairytale. Steve had never seen you this close before.
He watched your smile, the way it widened at the sight of his counterpart, this other version of him. You were so pretty that his breath got caught in his lungs, his sleeping body kicking out in shock when you lunged at the dream version of him, throwing your arms around his shoulders in greeting.
Steve watched the two figures embrace on the street, he watched how this luckier man got to bring his hand to your cheek and hold to there to kiss, how his lips - Steve’s own lips - met your own and parted them, mouths melting together in something that was so much more than a quick hello.
Steve didn’t have it in him to feel jealous then. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to. He watched the hand that held your jaw, the thumb that caressed your cheekbone as you grinned into him, your own hands clutching his waist now. There was a freckle, the same as the one he had on his own hand, in the matching spot on yours. This Steve took that hand and kissed that very mark, smacking kisses across your palm and up your wrist until you were laughing, head thrown back, eyes bright.
Steve hadn’t seen anything so happy.
He woke up before the dream finished, before the gate closed. Steve woke up with tears stinging at the corners of his eyes, his vision blurry in the navy gloom of his bedroom. It wasn’t yet morning. There was no gate on his bedroom fall, no new city between the plaid striped wallpaper.
He thought it could’ve been Chicago, maybe New York. Perhaps Philadelphia.
He wondered if he left and went looking for that bookstore, that street, that billboard, he’d find you too. If he was supposed to, if you were real, if this life was all he was supposed to get.
Something told him otherwise, that open crack inside his chest that made him ache for hours after he awoke. He never forgot about you during the day, each life he’d watched you live, how you had grown your hair out and then cut it, how you seemed to change your clothing depending on where you were, from old petticoats to jeans and shirts with logos on them he’d never seen before.
Steve felt like he’d lived a thousand lives with you.
He wasn’t sure what he had to do to get you in this one.
After two weeks of dreaming of this life with you, one that he was so sure would happen, he spoke to Joyce. He waited until the kids dragged Hopper out into the yard to help them with some sort of rocket they wanted to make and he found her in the kitchen. It was the closest kind of feeling he had to home - bar from the sight of you, but he wasn’t really sure if that counted when he was asleep.
So he tried to sound casual when he leaned over the Byers kitchen counter, elbows avoiding the jelly stains that Mike had left after making a sandwich, and asked, “hey, uh, do you believe in soulmates?”
Joyce blinked at him, flour and butter between her fingers as she tried to turn the page in her recipe book back to the instructions for apple pie. The book flopped shut when she let go, her hands reaching for a rag instead. Her eyes never left Steve’s.
“Uh, well. I guess so,” she paused, head tilted to the side as she watched the younger man, how his cheeks turned pink and his gaze fell to the floor. “I haven’t thought about it all that much. Why’d you ask?”
Steve didn’t know what to say then. So he floundered, flushed in the face and nose scrunched as he ran his fingers through his hair too harshly, hoping that no one else walked in. What was he supposed to say? That he was dreaming of gates in his bedroom walls? But it was okay? ‘Cause these ones didn’t have monsters or creatures set out to kill him, no, these gates held something that he thought he’d once had, that they held something he was so sure he was supposed ot have again?
Maybe, just not in this life.
Maybe, this time, something was broken. Wires were crossed, cut, unravelled. Maybe the upside down messed up a timeline, maybe it ripped apart whatever plan it had originally laid out for Steve Harrington.
He didn’t know. But he knew it sounded crazy, even in his head.
So he shrugged and said, “no reason.”
And then that night, after Joyce gave him funny looks over the dinner she served him and the rest of his friends, the kitchen table full, he went home and lay on his bed, hardly bothering to pull the sheets over his bare chest.
He counted his breaths, hoped for sleep and wished for you.
Like always, his room grew darker, his lids heavier and the crack in his bedroom wall crumbled and split until the dust settled and he saw your face. You were alone this time, pretty as ever and in the same looking city he’d last seen himself in. The skies were blue behind you, the buildings still tall and shiny looking, all glass window panes and metal framework. If he concentrated enough, he could smell summer.
Hot tarmac and sunscreen, fresh fruit from one of the stores behind you, tart lemons and freshly ground coffee.
You were looking right at him and even in his sleep, Steve smiled. Your eyes were pretty, too pretty, the colour bright and your gaze excited as you gazed at him. Like you’d been waiting. You held out a hand, coaxing, kind, soft, patient. And for the first time, when Steve reached out too, his hand slipped through the gate.
He was right, about the season, about it being summer. The air inside this world was warm on his skin, like the sun was on him despite being sprawled out in the blue gloom of his dark bedroom. It felt like a July morning, right before the heat hit.
He was almost touching your fingers when he woke up alone again.
#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington fic#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington oneshot#steve harrington au
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absolutely wild to me that i'm currently posting ts2 pics from way back in june (i didn't play in july & barely played in august and then year 3 summer was a slog to get through) and am roughly 2500 pics behind dfjsfdjsfd
#mayhap i should up my queue to 3 posts a day?#scared that that will bite me in the ass later on though#not that even a third of them make it but still. it's v behind
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A quick, sloppy little comic about Magritte
[Image Description: It's a vertical comic strip of 14 panels arranged one under the other. The style is realistic, done with sketchy lines in a dark burgundy. It is not colored or shaded and there is no background. The comic features the interactions of a couple, Magritte (also called Margie) and Rafael (also called Raf). Magritte is a young woman, she is wearing a baggy armhole tank top with a tight fitting black top underneath, shorts and boots. She has a messy bun and a small messenger bag slung over her left shoulder. Rafael is her partner, wearing baggy pants, sneakers, fingerless gloves, V-neck t-shirt and an open button-up jacket with a hoodie and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His hair has short side with long top bangs and a short goatee.
(First panel): There's only Magritte visible from the waist up. Off screen, Raf says to someone else: “Magritte has our tickets.” Magritte is excited, looking straight forward. Her left hand in on her bag's strap, her right hand rummaging inside her bag. Magritte says: "Yeah! Even made sure to put them in my wallet so that I wouldn't- uh..."
(Second panel): She is beginning to look concerned, now with her face turned to her back, both left hand holding the lip to open the bag wider and her right hand still rummaging inside. Magritte says: "wouldn't forget.... Hang on, it's not on it's usual pocket. Haha." The last is a nervous laughter.
(Third panel): Magritte is kneeling on the ground. Rafael is standing to the side and behind her, only his feet visible. Magritte looks frantic, searching inside her bag. Her right arm is forearm deep digging in her bag. Magritte says: "It's definitely here-! It's the one thing I never forget 'cus I never take it out of my bag!" Rafael says, firmly: "Margie, when you took it out to put the tickets in, did you put the wallet back in the bag?" The letters are bolded, with the word "back" underlined for emphasis. Magritte says: "Give me some credit, there's no way I'm that stupid." The last three words are underlined for emphasis.
(Fourth panel): The scene has changed and now Magritte and Rafael are in a car. We see them from the passenger's side. Rafael is driving, looking straight ahead at the road. Magritte is hunched forward, hugging herself with the left hand. Her right hand is holding her head. She is looking out the passenger window, avoiding Raf.
(Fifth panel): Rafael turns slightly to look at Magritte.
(Sixth panel): The point of view is now a side profile view from the drivers side. Rafael has his left arm leaning on the open window, his right hand on the wheel. Magritte is hunched over facing the passenger window. Rafael says: "I'm not mad at you, if that's what you're worried about." Magritte says: "I can literally feel your disappointment."
(Seventh panel): Back to the passengers side, Rafael is looking at the road. Magritte is frustrated, no longer leaning her head against her right hand and instead her hand is palm upwards. Rafael says: "Well, yes. It is a disappointing situation, but-" Magritte interrupts: "You'd think I'd be able to do the one thing I was asked to do-! That I'd at least learn from the last billion times I forgot shit. Rafael says, quieter: “that's not where I was going with this...”
(Eighth panel): Magritte has her right hand holding her face with the palm on her cheek, left hand placing the tips of her fingers on her left temple and eye brows. She is frustrated and angry. Magritte says: "It's not like I've got anything more important rattling around in my brain. But, for some reason, if it's not my music, or like.... food or something, then it's just not a priority. I can't make myself care enough to make it a priority!"
(Ninth panel): She now has both hands in front of her, elbows bent, finger extended in a vague hand gesture as if there was something in front of her. Magritte says: "I'm an adult in my 20s and I still manage my responsibilities like a child. I'd be more dependable if I could just stop and think for a second, but I'd probably forget to even breathe if it weren't for the..."
(Tenth panel): Her frustrated expression turned to confusion. Her hands are still in the air in the same position as before. Magritte says:"... why are we parked?" Her noticing this stopped her rant.
(Eleventh panel): Magritte straightens up and faces the window entirely, left hand crossed over her body to lean on the car door. Rafael, off screen: "Margie." Magritte says: "Oh." Magritte's inner thoughts are written around her. "He stopped the car to scold me. No, not ‘scold’. Don't be a child about this. He's disappointed and just needs to make sure you understand so you can do better next ti-"
(Twelfth panel): Magritte is still looking out the window, but now with a shocked expression. Rafael reached with his right hand, and its now resting gently on her upper back. Rafael interrupts her inner monologue with "I need you to stop repeating the shit your parents and teachers and such yelled at you growing up. They were wrong, and nothing you just said makes sense."
(Thirteenth panel): The perspective switches back to the driver's side profile. Rafael says: "A poor memory isn't synonymous with poor priorities. Nor does it speak to a lack of maturity. The priority was there, we just have to build a better habit of checking things before we leave the apartment. Both of us. It's gonna take time. You afford everyone else a ton of patience, all the time. Can you please afford some for yourself? The situation sucks, we were both looking forward to this. But it's not the end of the world. We didn't forget things on purpose. So let's take it easy and try to end the day on a good note. Alright?" Magritte says: "Okay... c-can we um...."
(Fourteenth panel): Magritte has turned to face Rafael and her eyes are filled with tears and they're running down her cheeks. Rafael looks startled, lifting his arm off Magritte's back. Magritte says: "Can we get some ice cream on the way back?" Rafael says: "O-of course!" End of description.]
This description was written and provided by Hiwi.
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License to Kill
Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Reader
Summary: Marital bliss becomes a bloody massacre within hours of your wedding. Bucky has run the gamut of organized crime from gunrunning to public extortion, but an attempt on your life is a whole different ballgame. A honeymoon-turned-manhunt has Bucky out for blood.
Warnings: 18+. Unprotected p-in-v. Semi-public sex. Beefy, mob boss Bucky really wants to give you a baby. Praise kink. Size kink. Facefucking. Sex on a private jet. Attempted murder. Arms trafficking. Guerrilla warfare.
Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4
Any postnuptial banquet was bound to be the talk of Santorini when a groom arrived beaten half to death.
At least that was what you’d told yourself, what had plagued your mind for hours before the start of brunch, and what Bucky presently refused to acknowledge with so much as a bat of his eye or a word spoken in between.
“You worry too much,” he said as he sheathed himself inside you for the third time that morning.
Bucky seized your throat in one hand and tilted your chin to make sure you were capable of eye contact while he fucked you in front of the mirror. It didn’t seem to bother him at all that the face in his own reflection was bruised, bloodied, and sewn up like a patchwork quilt behind you.
Hazards of the job, he’d said.
Three masked assailants breaking into your villa the first night of honeymooning? Customary. Being yanked out of bed and made to kneel as your husband took the beating of a lifetime just minutes after consummating your marriage? More common than you would think.
Bucky hadn’t even blinked when he got pistol whipped by a gold-plated Beretta. Didn’t flinch when he was held to a wall and pummeled like a freestanding punch bag.
Almost smiled when he took a hard right hook to the nose and felt a torrent of blood flood out of his nostrils.
If anyone were to be accused of behaving too calmly in a home invasion, it would be Bucky Barnes. It seemed as though he’d seen this all before and had no qualms about getting the shit kicked out of him every now and then. Why he hadn’t so much as lifted a finger to fight back was still beyond your comprehension, though.
At length, he tightened his grip on your neck and tried to smile, his upper lip slashed in two and bruised a grim, violet hue.
“Who’s my girl?” he murmured an inch from your ear.
You whined when he delivered a particularly hard thrust, both of your hands flying to the mirror to steady yourself as he pounded you from behind.
“I-I am,” you whimpered.
The stretch was still something you were getting used to, but now Bucky knew just how to spread you open without making it hurt. He’d glide a thick finger between your folds, slide it down to your clit, and leave it there as long as you’d let him, rubbing quick circles while you bucked and moaned under his touch. And, in spite of all his cuts and bruises, your husband made sure to kiss your shoulder every now and then to let you know he still loved you—even if he was fucking you like he didn’t.
Bucky trailed his lips behind your ear and watched you writhe in time with every stroke he gave. Pressed his face close to yours, watched a desperate, fucked-out expression take over your features, and smiled to himself knowing that no one but him got to see you like this.
“Who likes getting stuffed full of this cock?” he taunted.
“I do.”
“Who loves making daddy feel this good?”
“I do.”
He never thought the sound of your vows could be repeated out loud in such an obscene way—his sweet bride bent in half with a thick, throbbing cock wedged between her legs—but he loved it nonetheless.
Bucky was rutting his hips at a breakneck pace and holding your head to the mirror like he’d never let go. Your climax was quickly coming close into view, and you felt your toes curl in the hardwood floor beneath them.
Suddenly, the chirp of a ringtone diverted your attention.
Bucky brought his phone to his ear as he continued to pound you mercilessly.
“Yeah, Steve?”
The mob boss’s business never took a break, it seemed.
“So what?”
“Yeah, no, I heard you the first time.”
“Well, I’m plowing my wife right now, can it wait?”
Your cheeks warmed with embarrassment at Bucky’s blunt choice of words. You saw his brow pinch behind you, his thrusts getting faster and sloppier, and in spite of the distraction, you sensed he was getting close too.
You yourself were right on the brink. Your gaze met Bucky’s in the mirror with a soft, pleading look, and before you knew it, your husband was bidding an abrupt farewell to his friend and chucking his phone to the side.
“Ready to cum for me, honey?”
You whimpered and nodded.
“Alright then,” Bucky said with a near-expectant look, weaving the fingers of one hand into your hair and pulling it back, tight, “Cum all over daddy’s cock.”
With a shriek you feared might carry throughout the whole banquet hall, you finally reached your peak and released around Bucky’s length, tears springing to your eyes as you closed them tight and moaned his name.
And, ever the cheeky fuck, Bucky leaned right in and kissed the sides of your face to collect all the moisture he could—‘Shit, honey, you taste as good as you look’—while he smirked. Would’ve grinned even bigger if he wasn’t so overcome with pleasure; but, as it was, he couldn’t keep from blowing his load just seconds after the last spasms of your orgasm. Bucky leaned over your torso and squeezed your body tight to his, fucking his cum deep inside you as far as it could possibly go.
For a few, dizzying moments, the man’s mind wandered to more primal thoughts of making it stick, knocking you up, and Bucky had to clench his jaw hard to suppress the groans that were threatening to spill through his teeth. Every time he fucked you, it was like something just clicked; he couldn’t rid the thought of giving you a baby.
But no, for now, the two of you were still on wedding time; before you could jet off to your real honeymoon destination—someplace in the Caribbean, if Bucky remembered correctly—your mother had insisted that you host one post-wedding event that day: a brunch.
Naturally, that meant you were obliged to serve a four-course meal on the terrace of the Canaves Oia Hotel.
The mother of the bride had been one hell of a staunch advocate for keeping this wedding party going as long as possible, and who was Bucky to tell her no? He reasoned he would have plenty of time to get you pregnant after all the wedding festivities had ended, so he didn’t mind.
At present, you tugged your panties and your dress back into place with a wince.
“I think you displaced my cervix, James.”
Bucky couldn’t deny he felt the smallest twinge of pride seeing you walk a little funny to collect the rest of your belongings and attempt to freshen up. It also gave him the perfect excuse to scoop you back up in his arms and pretend to be apologetic about your present dilemma.
“Did I really?” he asked as you giggled and tried to swat him away, “I’m awfully sorry, Mrs. Barnes.”
“Like hell you are.”
With Bucky still draped over your body, proffering his apologies again and again as he assailed your face with tiny kisses, you’d barely made it two feet toward the door before you collapsed against a table and almost toppled a centerpiece. The pair of you would be expected outside any minute now, where the rest of your post-wedding party was likely trickling in and wondering where the hell the bride and groom had gone, but Bucky seemed adamant on keeping you to himself a little while longer.
That was until the back exit swung on its hinges and a familiar, frazzled groomsman stumbled in.
“Can you horndogs hurry the hell up?!”
So Sam had heard you after all.
You just might’ve blushed if you weren’t being pushed out the door a second later, the hurried, chiding tone of your husband’s friend ringing low in your ears.
“Your old man’s ready to hit the roof,” he mumbled to Bucky, “Won’t start drinking until you two show face.”
“Probably still thinks my bride escaped in the middle of the night,” Bucky mused, flitting a look to you.
The man behind rolled his eyes and continued to usher you both outside. Sam Wilson knew exactly what had happened last night; he’d been the one to bring in the cavalry to save you both from imminent death, after all.
As you had come to find out, Sam wasn’t just a friend of your husband’s but also a close associate of sorts—the kind that would wait in the wings and do whatever it took to keep Bucky safe. When the wait staff at the villa hadn’t been able to reach you for room service delivery last night, reporting some ‘strange sounds’ inside, Mr. Wilson had sprung into action. Called the rest of your husband’s entourage and was up to your room in minutes, where they’d dealt a swift, and final, blow to your attackers. You hadn’t asked many questions after—just thanked him. Profusely.
“You look like hell,” the man observed with a sidelong glance in his friend’s direction.
“Really? I feel great,” Bucky replied.
The three of you weaved through a crowd of partygoers—every single one of whom, without exception, stopped and stared at your husband’s mangled face as he passed—and you started to chew the inside of your cheek. People were gawking, talking amongst themselves as they wondered aloud what the hell could’ve happened to the groom overnight. You felt their stares turn to you in a mixture of pity and reproach, and you wanted to hide.
“Ja-ames!” a sing-song voice trilled across the way.
You, Bucky, and Sam all stopped in your tracks to regard the duo that was making their swift approach over.
Bucky’s mom and dad.
As the older couple drew near, you half-expected to see them take on the same wan, horror-stricken look worn by all those around you, but to your surprise, they didn’t.
In fact, they didn’t bat an eyelid. Seeing their son’s face all gnarled and bloody barely even registered.
“Good, you’re here! The photographers just arrived.” Bucky’s mother swept you into her arms for a brief embrace before shooting her son a frown. Your husband, in turn, offered her an apologetic peck on the cheek.
“Sorry, ma. We got caught up,” he said.
“Sure looks like it.”
That came from the elder Mr. Barnes, who had stopped to give his son a quick once-over. He looked amused.
“Get in a fight with a grizzly last night?” he quipped.
“Three, actually,” Sam answered for Bucky, who was already grinning from ear-to-ear—or as much as his facial lacerations would allow him.
You saw father and son exchange a brief, knowing look, before it was extinguished just as fast as it had come. Clearly, some sort of understanding had passed between them, and the old patriarch seemed pleased. Proud, even. You couldn’t begin to imagine why.
“The bruising shouldn’t be too hard to edit out of the wedding pictures,” Bucky’s mother turned to you as she started to lead the group away, speaking in a matter-of-fact tone, “It’s those damn lesions on his face that always give us trouble.”
She spoke so coolly about the trauma done to her son it damn near chilled you to the bone. You never thought the wife of a mobster would be oblivious to all the violence, but to talk as though this were just another day in the life as far as brutal beatings went was a little unnerving.
You strolled along and silently wondered what the fuck was wrong with this family. Then you realized, slowly, that this was your family now. Your stomach twisted.
When you got to the garden where the photographers were stationed, you saw your parents waiting, enrapt.
And, in a matter of seconds, you watched their expressions morph from exuberance to confusion to outright trepidation. Your father was quick to look away, but your mother clearly couldn’t be bothered to stop ogling Bucky’s gruesome appearance. She forced a tight-lipped smile at the very last second and stretched her arms out to you as the five of you approached.
“You’re glowing, my dear.”
She hugged you and, over your shoulder, tried to mask a discomfited look.
Your mother and father exchanged pleasantries with the rest of the group but seemed loath to linger on Bucky for more than a minute. Like they couldn’t quite tell whether the honeymoon beatdown was fair game for discussion.
“Places, people!”
The photographers were lined up like a flock of paparazzi. Each standing, crouching, squatting with their cameras in their hands, trying to get just the right angle.
The person in charge quickly busied herself with directing and adjusting every one of your positions before the pictures were taken. Telling Bucky’s father to straighten his tie, your mother to brighten her smile, the bride to tilt her shoulders just a little bit more, and Bucky, would you please stop groping your wife?
That last command had come from his mother, actually. Bucky had been palming your ass above your dress, and his mom couldn’t stand the thought of one camera capturing such crude behavior.
“My hand slipped,” Bucky retorted, much to the amusement of a few photographers.
You and his mother gave him identical admonitory looks, but it was you who was close enough to say something.
Just when you opened your mouth to speak, though, an odd sense stopped you on a dime.
There was a warmth. In your panties. Then a slow and silent oozing sensation. You squeezed your thighs tight together and, instinctively, lowered your hand to your stomach, as if that would have any chance of stopping it.
A smirk tugged at Bucky’s lips just as the lead photographer told you all to smile and hold it.
“My cum dripping out already?” he whispered, low as he’d ever spoken but still too loud for you to bear. His parents were literally standing right there.
“Shut. Up.” You replied through gritted, smiling teeth.
“Chin to me, Mrs. Barnes,” the lady in charge called out.
You did as you were told, and Bucky’s hand on your side pressed the flesh ever so slightly.
A series of shuttering sounds, then another directive.
“Think it’ll stay in your panties?” Bucky managed delicately under his breath.
You didn’t respond. At length, his seed was seeping out of your underwear. You bared an even brighter smile for the cameras and tried not to flinch when he squeezed you again.
“Feel it sliding down your thighs?”
“Eyes forward, Mr. Barnes. Head up, and—here, please.”
The man could barely peel his gaze, much less his hands, from your body. He stroked your hip with his thumb. Then, without warning, that same hand slid down to your rear and pushed into the fabric. You sucked in a breath.
“Bucky.”
“What?”
“Behave,” you hissed, and from the corner of your eye you could’ve sworn you saw your mother turn her head.
Unfortunately for you, your husband would do no such thing. He just moved his hand even lower down your back and brushed the space around that spot with the tips of his fingers. You felt a shiver pass over you, along with a whole legion of goosebumps spreading fast across the skin.
If you weren’t on camera and surrounded by family, you probably would’ve liked to smack him upside the head.
As the cameras continued to fire away, Bucky’s touch trailed down to the outline of your panties through your dress and started rubbing small circles over the area.
“Now just the bride and groom!”
The rest of your family members stepped to the side, and it was only you and Bucky before the cameras now. Still smiling like bright, shiny dolls and communicating like ventriloquists, your lips barely moved as you spoke.
“How ‘bout I push it back in?”
“Barnes, I will kill you.”
“Now kiss!”
At the direction of the lead photographer, you kissed your husband and felt a mixture of lust, hate, and love swell up inside of you. When you pulled apart, it was the latter of these three that was searing hot in your veins.
“I love you,” Bucky murmured with a grin.
“I love you, too.”
The rest of the morning passed away in much the same fashion—being pulled from place to place, person to person, while your filthy-minded husband kept whispering in your ear all the depraved things he was planning to do to you once he got you alone. It was romantic, in a way; just terrible for your poor panties.
You reluctantly mingled and laughed with some of the most boring people you thought you’d ever met in your life—though perhaps you were a touch too horny to make a fair appraisal—and gradually, family and friends pulled you and Bucky further and further apart until you were just being carted around like show dogs and forced to hold the same conversation over and over again.
“You look stunning.”
“Buck’s a lucky guy, I’ll tell you that.”
“Are you planning on having kids any time soon?”
You just smiled, nodded, and didn’t have the guts to tell them that Bucky’s baby batter was baking inside you right now. That would’ve been a fun one to watch the reactions from your uptight, intrusive relatives, though.
And speaking of Bucky, where the fuck had he gone?
Just twenty minutes ago he’d sworn he would have you bent over one of the hotel balconies overlooking the Aegean Sea, and now he was nowhere to be found.
Your parents were currently preoccupied with their second helpings of spanakopita, your in-laws draining mojitos like water, and Sam, like Bucky, completely MIA. No one else had seen hide nor hair of your husband in a little while, and frankly, your legs were growing tired of looking.
You let out a small sigh of relief when you saw Bucky sitting a ways away on the terrace with Sam and Steve huddled on either side of him. They looked to be deep in discussion.
Steve, Stevie, Rogers, or, simply, your husband’s second in command, seemed strangely out of sorts as he clenched a fist and said something close to Bucky’s face.
You decided to let the three of them hash it out and to take a rain check on that balcony rendezvous for now.
At any rate, a pack of Pall Malls was calling your name.
You would fully concede this was a filthy habit you never should have started—like most fun things in life—but the reprieve of a nicotine buzz was too tempting to refuse. You grabbed your clutch and took off toward the far end of the lawn, set for a small alcove apart from the party.
You slipped the lighter and cigarettes from your bag as you walked. The scent of pure salt and sea foam greeted your senses as soon as you drew close to the spot—less than a stone’s throw away from the ocean.
Your hands had jammed the cancer stick in your mouth before your mind could make a single word of protest. You brought the lighter to life in your right palm and raised the flame to your cigarette until the end was lit.
Then you inhaled. Exhaled. Hoped no one would see you. You fanned the smoke from your face every so often.
You’d taken up residence on a bench just shy of the beach, and finally, you could stretch your legs and rest.
Maybe indulge in some disgusting thoughts about your husband while you were at it.
If you’d told yourself just twenty-four hours ago that your mind and body would be on the fritz craving Bucky’s touch, you wouldn’t have believed it. If someone had said sex, and cumming around someone you loved, was a worthwhile experience, you probably would’ve told them they were full of shit. But here you were, splayed out on a bench by the shoreline thinking of nothing but the way your husband’s cock felt inside you. Feeling his seed dried on your thigh and aching for a fourth helping.
You felt pathetic. Maybe you were.
In any case, you didn’t really care.
You brought the near-spent cigarette up to your lips for the last couple puffs. When you’d plucked it back out, you heard someone clear their throat behind you.
Bucky! Your lust-addled brain all but squealed.
You turned much quicker than you meant and nearly jumped in your skin to see who was standing there.
A grinning, bright-eyed blond.
In a panic, you flicked your cigarette over your shoulder and forced a smile.
“Hi.”
“Howdy.”
Okay, John Wayne, what the fuck? The man sounded, and looked, like something straight out of a western film.
“No need to stop on my account,” he tipped his chin toward the cigarette on the ground, “I won’t snitch.”
His smile took on a shade of condescension, but the face seemed friendly enough. Then, to your surprise, he reached into his back pocket and retrieved something small and silver from it. He held it out to you.
“Courtesy of your husband,” he said.
You frowned. A flask?
“It’s not even noon,” you answered.
“Bucky wanted me to relay the message that your mom invited a boatload more folks, and it don’t seem they’re fixin’ to leave anytime soon. Said you might need this.”
Gingerly, you accepted the gift and unscrewed the cap. You almost gagged when you got a whiff of pure vodka.
“Fuckin’ A,” you coughed, “What’s this, nail polish remover?”
“Stolichnaya. Can’t talk shit until you’ve tried it.”
Your eyes were still watering from the pungent stench of 80 proof spirits when you saw the man’s outstretched arm again—this time, to shake your hand.
“Joey, by the way.”
You shook his hand and introduced yourself as well, blinking back a few tears.
“You’re a friend of my husband’s?” you asked.
“From the service, yeah. We go way back.”
You couldn’t help but raise both brows in question.
“The service,” you repeated.
“Russian Armed Forces,” Joey smiled.
And when the hell did Bucky plan on telling you he was a former foreign operative? You stared at the man before you in a medley of confusion and disbelief. Surely the thick Southern drawl had to mean he was joking.
“Sorry—I thought you knew,” he said sheepishly.
Your husband’s old comrade seemed genuinely contrite, blushing a shade of pink as he turned his gaze from you. You quickly regained your composure and flashed him a smile, insisting it was fine, just surprising to you is all.
“Perks of arranged marriage,” you said, “We’re wed for life and I don’t even know the guy’s job title.”
That earned a laugh from the tall, gaunt figure in front of you. His features visibly relaxed, and he wasn’t smiling so smugly anymore. He motioned toward the bench.
“You mind?”
“Not at all.”
You fished for a cigarette as Joey sat down beside you. When he’d taken a seat, you offered it to him, and he politely accepted.
With time, the two of you got to smoking and joking around with a little more ease. You didn’t normally get to see that happen—rarely seizing the opportunity to make friends of near-strangers—but this weekend had already presented a bevy of firsts. What harm could a quick smoke break with Bucky’s old friend possibly do?
You found the man to be quick-witted and charming, if not marred by the slightest stain of conceit under the surface. He was objectively handsome: all cool, clean features with an unblemished demeanor and a set of brown eyes so light they almost appeared the color of honey in the sun. The only imperfection to be detected was a skewed, razor-thin scar on his chin. You weren’t ashamed to admit he might’ve been your type maybe four or five years, and several degrees of naïveté, earlier. But you had Bucky now; not even the most sublime, finely-chiseled Adonis could set your sights off of him.
You continued to smoke and shoot the shit.
“So you’re a Puritan, then?” Joey said at length.
“Huh?” You leaned back to stretch.
“You haven’t touched that flask.”
You glanced down at the silver canteen between you. You picked it up.
“Haven’t been into straight liquor since college,” you shrugged.
“But it’s your wedding weekend,” Joey smirked, “Think it says somewhere in the rule book you’ve gotta be hammered the whole time.”
“Does it? I must’ve missed that one,” you hummed.
Rather than answer you verbally, Bucky’s old friend opted to snag the flask from your fingers and unscrew the top himself. Made an unusually bold move and took your chin in his other hand.
“Open.”
“No!”
You bared a tight smile to be polite, but inside, you were more than a little put off by his behavior. Maybe this was some stupid rite of passage into their ‘brotherhood.’ You had to assume he was just being friendly.
“C’mon. Quit bitchin’ and open up,” he chuckled, pinching your face even tighter.
That left an even more sour taste in your mouth. You jerked your head to the left and were just about to inform the man it’d cost him nothing to fuck off and stay off, when a voice broke out through the foliage behind you.
“Honey? Hon, you there?”
Immediate relief at hearing your husband’s voice.
You craned your neck to look around.
“I’m here, Bucky!” You waved an arm to try and get his attention, wherever he was.
It took him a second, but shortly, he appeared on the other side of some trees. He had a stern, if not slightly sallow, look on his face as he made his way over.
You turned back to Joey but found that he’d vanished. Your eyes scanned the beach, the lawn, even the bushes behind you and couldn’t find a trace of him anywhere. All that was left was the flask.
“Bucky, I just—”
“We need to go,” your husband cut in.
His narrowed, steely gaze sent a jolt of apprehension through you.
“Go wh—”
“Now, baby, please. I’ll tell you in the car.”
Your face dropped.
“We’re leaving?”
Shortly, Steve trotted over. Bleak as you’d ever seen him with his hands balled in fists at his sides. And a deep-set scowl.
“Whole fuckin’ swarm of ‘em now,” he pronounced.
Bucky didn’t wait to hear another word. He just grabbed your hand and joined his friend sprinting back up the lawn. You could barely keep apace with their steps and, still clinging to Bucky, almost tripped and stumbled.
“Get the fuck up,” Steve spat.
You tensed. For a second, your feet scarcely moved of their own accord as you trailed behind Bucky and felt a stabbing feeling in your gut. Bucky’s best man had surely been a little rough around the edges before, but never this needlessly cruel. What did you do?
Your husband delivered an uncharacteristically gruff shove to the man’s shoulder and made sure he felt it.
“Don’t you start this shit again,” he said, “Lay off.”
Steve ignored him entirely and took the lead around the hotel’s perimeter. You glanced to the throngs of partygoers still scattered along the veranda and saw similar looks of disquiet and alarm all around.
Just when a dozen different questions of what was going on, where were they taking you, and why the fuck did everyone look so afraid bubbled to the tip of your tongue, a thunderous sound brought you to a standstill.
At the opposite end of the plaza, a cluster of tents, tables, and catering stations all splintered apart in a single, headlong explosion. A bright red column of fire shot up toward the sky, and following its ascent rose a wave of shrill and horrified screams alongside it. A barrage of gunfire rained over the crowd, and before you could even spare a look toward its source, Bucky yanked you flat on the ground. Your hands and knees were shredded across pavement, had less than a second to register the pain, and were shortly made to snake along concrete and glass toward the garden down below.
You crawled, then crouched, then bounded down the lawn following Bucky and Steve like a bat out of hell. Another explosion sounded nearby—this time much closer, sending a shower of flames sailing through the air and all over—and whole droves of people just dropped. Facedown in the grass and covered in glass. Bucky clamped your hand in his own with a force that could’ve snapped it in two, but you didn’t blink. All of your senses were kicked into overdrive and focalized, unflinching, on the sight of more carnage than you could comprehend.
“Here!” Steve called presently.
He caught sight of a jet black sedan at the edge of the lawn and held a hand up to Bucky. A set of keys were promptly pelted into his grasp, and the three of you closed in on the car, quick, without another word.
Bucky tore the back door open and practically flung you inside. He primed himself to climb in right after, when a set of footsteps and a shout held him locked in place.
“Hangar’s clear.”
Sam, by the sound of it.
He jumped in shotgun while Steve seized the wheel. Bucky hadn’t gotten the back door so much as halfway shut before the engine roared to life and the car lurched ahead. Not thinking, you grabbed hold of a seatbelt, but Bucky was quick to pull you in and jerk you down.
You weren’t sure what you’d been expecting then, but it certainly wasn’t your husband’s weight crushing you from above as he pinned you to the floor of the car.
This wasn’t the seamless, smart exit that the heroes of the action-packed stories always had. Bucky didn’t hold you tight in his arms or cradle your head to his chest. He just draped the weight of his whole body over yours and begged you strenuously not to move or make a sound. By the looks of it, too, the car was tearing up the turf of the lawn and anything else that happened to cross its path; there was no rhyme or reason to Steve’s driving, it seemed, just frantic desperation and a will not to die.
Minutes, seconds, sights, and sounds—or what little of the world you could grasp from your cowered position—all bled together in a haze. Your pulse leapt and throbbed between your ears, and little more could be heard above that sound apart from the thrum of Bucky’s own heart, the thunder of gunfire, and the wail of sirens, coming low and faint and far too late to make much difference now.
You pressed your nose to the floor and got a dizzying whiff of nylon and bleach. Would’ve like to retch but gritted your teeth instead, lying in silence and wondering without humor if the splinters, the soot, or the blood would be hardest to wash out of your white satin dress.
The price of admission to board Bucky’s Boeing 787 came surprisingly cheap: just sit back and be ‘pregnant.’
You’d been flanked by medics as soon as you arrived at the hangar—a place tucked away just a few short miles from the hotel, where Bucky kept his aircraft for speedy escapes, apparently—and had been carried onto a jet. You didn’t squirm or protest, just hung limply in their arms and let them tend to you however they needed.
After all, you looked like fucking Carrie White on prom night: coated in blood and stiff as a board. Sitting with a thousand-yard stare and a frozen, muted expression as you tried, and failed, to process what had just happened.
You watched Bucky kneel down in front of you and hardly saw him at all. You sensed him stroke your hair but felt it from a place somewhere far outside your body. Bizarre was an understatement. All you could do was blink.
“It’s not— not her blood, is it?” your husband stammered, gesturing toward your dress.
“Some of it,” one nurse answered quietly.
Aw, hell. Bucky squatted on the floor and slotted himself between your knees, trying to get as close as possible so he could make you say something, even just see him. One of the attendants raised a warning look and placed a hand on his shoulder, which he shrugged off in a second.
“She’s not looking at me,” Bucky’s lip visibly trembled as he drew you closer, “Honey, I’m here— I’m right h—”
“She’s in shock.” Another voice came flatly.
Sure, shock works. In truth, your mind was floating somewhere even higher than the 43,000 feet the plane had ascended, and your brain had gone as soft as a clump of cotton candy in the rain. You couldn’t speak, but you could think in bits and pieces. You blinked again.
“She looks like death warmed over.”
Thank you, Steve.
Off to the side in a plush, leather seat of his own, the man nursed a scotch on the rocks and frowned. Bucky didn’t have the strength to throw a punch or a pillow at his head and instead said only to shut the fuck up, man.
Your husband turned to the nurses again.
“She’s pregnant.”
I beg your finest pardon? You blinked a bit harder.
“No, she’s not, Buck,” Sam said from down the aisle.
“Well, she could be,” Bucky chided, “We’ve been going at it like rabbits since the—”
“Fuck’s sake,” Steve slapped a palm over his forehead. If you weren’t currently balls-deep in a state of mental disarray you probably would’ve done the same.
Bucky had made sure to tell all medical personnel aboard the plane that you were—or very well could be—carrying his child, so would you please take all precautionary measures possible? She’s my wife. You suspected if the doctors and nurses weren’t all on Bucky’s payroll they probably would’ve rolled their eyes and reminded him that all you needed were stitches, dressings, and extra fluids. And no, Mr. Barnes, your wife probably isn’t pregnant, even if you think your sperm is ‘built different’ than most.
“She’ll be fine either way,” the medic on your left said, stifling a chuckle. Wondering if the man had ever taken a sex ed class in his years of prudish, private education.
Bucky wasn’t convinced. Against all physicians’ wishes, he climbed up beside you in the seat and pulled you into his lap with both arms wrapped around your waist.
By turns, the world was coming back into focus for you. You met Bucky’s gaze for the first time, and the man looked overjoyed.
“See? See? She’s back.” Bucky squeezed your hip—and immediately released it when you winced.
“Mind the bandages, Mr. Barnes.”
Your caregivers pro tempore shot your husband a couple wry looks as they packed their supplies and started to leave, getting the sense that their boss wasn’t going to stop badgering them, or you, anytime soon. That worked just fine for Bucky, because then he would get to hold you any way that he liked, as long as you’d let him.
Steve, on the other hand, didn’t seem quite as thrilled.
Sam watched the medics’ departure with a wary look.
“She probably needs to rest, Bucky,” the latter said, careful with his words.
Bucky’s eyes never strayed from yours.
“She’s okay, Sam. She’s good.” Perhaps speaking more to himself than anyone else. Steve shifted in his seat.
In your periphery, Mr. Wilson was approaching with a glass in his hand. You turned your head, and Bucky accepted the cup of water for you.
“Feelin’ alright?” Sam asked.
You tried to nod, but your husband was already cradling your head like a baby, urging you to take your first sip.
A spate of water splashed down the front of your dress. You shot Bucky a look as he hastily tried to dry it.
“She’s not a child, Barnes,” Steve muttered.
“Should probably keep that elevated,” Sam cut in, nodding toward your swollen ankle, “We’ll get some ice.”
Sam tilted his head again, this time to motion to Steve. His friend pretended not to see him, and then Bucky was back on his feet, keen as ever,
“I’ll go.”
He kissed the top of your head and assured you he’d be right back. He’d just started off toward the door, when Sam hesitated. He flitted a quick look between you and Steve and looked like he wanted to say something, but Bucky was already ushering him out of the room.
When you turned to Steve, you understood why.
The man had you pinned with a stare that could’ve killed you ten times over, fisting his drink in a white-knuckled grip.
You watched him right back. Tried hard not to blink.
“Something wrong?”
You weren’t sure how you’d even mustered the strength to speak. Steve just brought it out of you, you figured.
“You tell me.” Tone dripping with disdain.
You raked your gaze over the man for a second, finding him dressed head-to-toe in his three piece suit—muddied with blood here and there, but still no worse for wear than you’d seen him an hour or two ago. It was that frown you couldn’t shake.
What had you done to piss him off so much? Shit in his cornflakes? Step on his toe? Had he seen you with Joey and jumped to the worst possible conclusion? You sincerely couldn’t make sense of the man’s indignation, so you wanted to ask him directly; before you could, though, Steve was interjecting, at length,
“We should’ve left you to die with the rest of your family.”
Your jaw slackened a bit.
“What?”
“You, your mother, your two-timing shitstain of a father. Every one of you should’ve stayed there to rot.”
Never mind the fact that he’d just wished you dead to your face—what did he mean about your parents?
“But they’re coming with us. Bucky said,” you managed.
“He did?” Steve grinned humorlessly, “He lied, doll. Your folks are probably bound and gagged at the bottom of the ocean right now.”
That sent the first real wave of fear pulsing through you. You slowly rose to your feet but, feeling yourself restrained by the makeshift IV line stuck in your skin, you stopped. You plucked the needle out of your arm.
“What are you talking about?”
You drew closer to Steve, who only sat back and sipped his scotch with amusement.
“What? That wasn’t part of the plan?” he quirked a brow, “Didn’t think anyone would dare lay a finger on your precious, self-righteous fucking family—”
You hardly even noticed you’d swatted Steve’s drink out of his hand until the glass went shattering on the floor. You blinked and raised a shaky, bruised finger about an inch from his face.
“The fuck did you just say to me?” Your jaw was clenched so tight you had to speak through your teeth.
Steve was beaming.
The door to the room flew open, and Bucky and Sam strolled in with their ice packs and pillows. They stopped when they saw the glass on the floor and your figure looming over Steve.
“You picked a real spitfire, Buck,” the blond called out, his hands raised in surrender as he smiled up at you.
Bucky seemed more surprised that you were able to stand, much less take that menacing stance over his friend, and he quickly tried to guide you back to your seat. You wouldn’t budge.
“What the fuck are you talking about?! Where are my parents?” You tried to shake your husband off as Steve’s grin grew even bigger.
“They’re fine, honey. Sit down, please,” Bucky mumbled.
“No! He said they were dead!” you shot back, eyes never leaving the smug, smirking face that seemed to be enthralled by the spectacle in front of him.
“Why don’t you tell her, Buck? Girl deserves to know.”
“Shut the fuck up, Rogers,” Sam uttered quietly.
“Tell me what?”
“It’s nothing, your parents are fine,” Bucky seemed pensive now, gaze scanning the ceiling for a second as he tried to collect his thoughts. You shoved his hands off.
“Don’t you fucking lie to me, James,” you said, diverting your attention to glare up at him, “What’s going on?”
“Either she’s a world-class actress or she really doesn’t have the first clue about this. Enlighten her.” Steve seemed a little more serene as he unscrewed a bottle of Talisker and reached for a second glass. You would’ve liked to knock back one or two—or ten—yourself.
You turned on your heels to face Bucky. At the moment, he seemed torn between imparting a death black stare on Steve and a placating, apologetic one to you. The tips of his ears were tinged pink.
“Baby—” He reached for you, but you pulled back.
“No.”
You wouldn’t ask him again. Your husband was wounded by the sight of your recoil—and perhaps by some painful truths he’d be compelled to share as well—and he wrung his hands. Started to chew the inside of his cheek.
Sam snagged the scotch and made a heavy pour.
“Why’d you marry him?” Steve said suddenly.
Bucky’s face dropped; you raised a brow in question. Before your husband could stop you, you answered,
“Because my dad was in debt.”
“For what?”
You paused.
“Real estate. Gambling. Fuck if I know.”
Steve nodded. Ignored Bucky’s sharp, reproachful gaze.
“And how much money did he owe?” he asked.
“Steve,” Sam warned.
“Four, five million—more than he could ever repay.”
This time, it was Steve to raise both brows as he mulled over your response. He almost looked surprised.
“You’re forced to marry a man just to settle a debt and you don’t even know the price that tight little body’s paying?” he scoffed.
His words hadn’t hung in the air for much longer than a second before Bucky decked him, shoving him square in the chest and sending him stumbling back a couple steps. A splash of whiskey was quick to join the bloodstains adorning Steve’s tux, and the pile of broken glass on the floor grew even bigger. The man hardly flinched when Bucky shoved his head to the end table.
“Say it again.” Your husband sounded dispassionate as ever. Like this was something he was used to doing.
“She should’ve known!” Steve snapped anyway.
You shared a brief look with Sam but found his expression inscrutable. He kicked a few shards of glass with the toe of his shoe.
“I wasn’t exactly in a place to negotiate,” you grumbled, “They were going to kill my father if we didn’t settle it, so I wasn’t all that interested in knowing how much money my A1 cunt was gonna cost Bucky. Personally.”
If he could go low, you would go lower. Fuck him.
You saw Steve grin through a freshly busted lip and straighten himself back into a seated position. He wiped the blood with the pad of his thumb while Bucky seemed to contemplate swinging again. The look in your eye cautioned him against it.
“Fair enough,” Steve conceded. He stopped to consider his words—ones that wouldn’t prompt Bucky to punch him directly in the throat—and looked to you, curious,
“Why would the mob kill him over a few million dollars?”
You shrugged.
“He’s a real estate broker. They probably knew he couldn’t fork over that kind of cash.”
Something akin to a stifled chuckle and a cough sounded from Sam, while Steve outright broke out laughing. Even Bucky’s expression softened a little as he rubbed his knuckles and paced closer to you.
“What?” you spat, “Did I say something funny?”
Sam shook his head slowly, starting, “I don’t think—”
“Your daddy’s a fucking gunrunner, sugar,” Steve wheezed, “Head of a multinational arms trafficking syndicate—motherfucker is not selling houses.”
Your insides churned with a mixture of disbelief and revulsion, but you couldn’t let them see that. When Bucky reached for your hand, you yanked it back again.
“And how the fuck would you know?” you said to Steve.
“We work with him. Used to work for him, at one point,” Sam answered.
“And the man is horseshit at business”—Steve paused to see if Bucky had shot him a warning look but found your husband far too concerned with capturing your attention—“He was $90 million in the hole when Bucky came to the rescue.”
“James?” You finally turned to him.
“And your daddy didn’t even owe the money to Bucky, he owed it to HYDRA,” Steve sneered.
“James,” you pressed again.
You couldn’t understand why your husband refused to speak—going as deadpan and radio silent as the night before. He stood there and watched you with a rigid, inflexible gaze.
“HYDRA as in— the Russian mob?” you asked him.
“No, the Girl Scouts,” Steve huffed, “Yes, the mob.”
“Schröder’s boys. Your dad’s been in business with them for years—owed them a lot of money,” Sam added.
“And your dad and Bucky’s dad have been friends even longer. So Bucky figured he’d do yours a favor and pay the debt himself.” Steve seemed eager to tell this story.
All the while, the hue of Bucky’s cheeks grew even deeper—like he didn’t want this coming to light. He sensed you wouldn’t stand down until you’d heard the whole ugly truth, though, so he held your gaze and watched you grow more repulsed by the second.
“Then why’d he need me? Just another bartering chip?” Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth, “A pawn?”
“A peace offering,” Bucky said quietly.
Steve and Sam finally clammed up long enough to let him speak, but your husband seemed taciturn as ever.
“Your father didn’t owe me anything. I would’ve paid his debt and left it at that, but he insisted I— that we marry. He wanted an alliance no subsequent financial incentive could disrupt. He would take the money I gave him, pay HYDRA, and bow out of any future dealings with them. Our marriage was supposed to guarantee that.”
Bucky spoke slow, like every word was a labored breath. Hardly the same could be said for his friends.
“That was until your dipshit weapons dealer daddy decided he’d have his cake and eat it too. Struck an even sweeter deal with HYDRA and played in our faces,” Steve said.
“At the direction of Mr. Schröder, your father tried to intercept a shipment bound for one of Bucky’s warehouses in Brooklyn,” Sam continued, “Only problem is he fucked up the execution and cost Schröder a dozen men and tens of millions of dollars in artillery and blow.”
“So Schröder paid him a visit today,” Bucky muttered.
Without realizing it, you found yourself sinking into the nearest seat and bringing a hand to lay flat on your stomach. You felt sick. More than woozy, truthfully. Your head was spinning and your stomach was twisting something terrible, as if you’d just ingested cyanide.
Fuck, did you need a drink.
You couldn’t look at Bucky or Steve or Sam any longer.
You reached for your clutch and pulled out Joey’s flask.
And, bloodlusting mobsters and outlaws be damned, the Russians knew how to make the hell out of some vodka. A single sniff of the stuff told you this was exactly what you would need to cope with your current situation.
“So you think I had something to do with the new HYDRA deal?” you asked, “You honestly th—FUCK!”
Bucky lunged for the flask in your hand before you could take a single pull. He snatched it away in the blink of an eye and shot you a look.
“Liquor? For our baby?” he barked.
You audibly groaned and were just about to tell him that his understanding of human reproduction was a crock of shit when you stopped. You saw his expression change.
“Where did you get this?” Bucky asked, suddenly pale.
“You, dumbass!”
“Me?”
Bucky was presently passing the flask around to his friends, who were eyeing a spot on the bottom of the container with shared looks of alarm.
“Your friend gave it to me earlier saying that you wanted me to have it,” you said.
All three men looked up at once.
“What friend?” Sam asked.
“Joey,” you answered, “Bucky’s friend from the army.”
If it were possible for your husband to get any paler his skin might’ve turned the color of cottage cheese. His eyes were wide with fear.
Then he was hurrying to your side. Taking your hand.
“What friend from the army? What’d he look like?”
You were still scanning Bucky’s face, trying to make sense of the apprehension etched into his features, when you managed,
“I-I dunno. Blond. Light brown eyes.”
“Tall fella?” Steve asked.
“Very.”
“Have a German accent?” Sam pressed.
“No, a real thick Southern accent,” you shook your head. It didn’t occur to you then that it could’ve been fake.
You were about to turn your attention back to Bucky, brow still knit in confusion, when a vague memory crossed your mind. You looked up at Sam and Steve.
“He had a—” You tapped your chin lightly, “—a little scar right here.”
You would’ve thought you’d just announced you had a bomb strapped to your ass the way the three men reacted. Each wore identical looks of disbelief and muted horror, exchanging looks between themselves as if they’d just discovered the Atlantic Ocean—and found the Loch Ness Monster lurking somewhere underneath.
Bucky looked the worst out of all of them. His face had drained of all expression and color as he stared at you.
“Joey?” he intoned feebly.
“Yes,” you answered—feeling ineffectual, even dense, for not catching on to what the rest of them had discovered.
Fortunately, Sam wouldn’t let you wallow in ignorance.
“Johann Schröder,” he supplied in a second, “The man you were talking to was Mr. Schröder, head of HYDRA.”
Steve held the flask in his grasp for you to see the bottom, where a skull with six tentacles was engraved. Then he tipped the canister into a glass he’d taken in his other hand and watched a frothy pink liquid spill out.
“Looks to be a serum of his,” Steve said, hollow as you’d ever heard him, “Kind of like…roofies.”
“You didn’t drink any of it, did you?” Sam asked.
“Nuh-uh. Bucky showed up right as he was trying to, uh— to pour it in my mouth.”
A beat of silence gripped the room.
Bucky looked like he might burst a blood vessel, or someone’s skull. Or both.
Still, he wouldn’t speak to you.
The inside of your head was throbbing.
You almost preferred the ruthless, irate glint in Steve’s eye when he’d suspected you of being a traitor the first time around; this cloyingly sympathetic gaze he was giving you now had to be the most maddening thing. He and Sam both looked on at you like you were a victim. Like you were something to be pitied, or coddled, or left to the capable hands of your husband—a motherfucker who couldn’t even speak so much as a syllable to you.
You felt a pressure build, then swell, then peak between your temples, and you wanted to wince but couldn’t stand the thought of looking weak in front of them.
Then your nose started to bleed.
That, at least, woke Bucky from his reverie as he fumbled around for a napkin and helped you to your feet. He looped an arm around your waist and led you off to the bathroom, his grip tightening on your frame with every step you took.
In two minutes flat, you were flooded with fifteen feet of toilet paper and tissues. Bucky cupped the back of your head in one of his broad, warm palms and kept it plastered there as he instructed you to hold it, honey, hang on, I can grab a few extra rolls right here and guided you toward a private area at the back of the plane.
You could scarcely see above the bunched up wads of Charmin Ultra Strong pressed close to your nose, but you trusted Bucky wouldn’t lead you astray. You felt the welcome touch of a bed underneath you, and then your husband was helping you settle in amongst the pillows and the blankets and the rose petals that had been scattered around before—not entirely appropriate now, but a nice touch nonetheless—and slipping your shoes off your feet. You felt his hand graze your ankle, and then he was saying he’d be right back with those ice packs.
You reached for his hand before he could leave.
“I don’t want it,” you said, your voice slightly muffled by the tissues, “Want you to talk to me, James.”
Bucky’s brow pinched inward. He kneeled down in front of you, where you were sitting on the edge of the bed.
“I am— I’m talking to you right now, honey, I—”
“You know what I mean.”
Bucky wiped his hand down his face and shook his head. Like he was trying to rid himself of a thought.
“I don’t want to talk about HYDRA. Or your father,” he said simply.
“Why not?”
“You’re not in the right place to hear it.”
You plucked the toilet paper away from your face long enough to give him a stern glare.
“We’re on a plane. Fleeing Greece. After you got curb-stomped in our honeymoon suite, our post-wedding brunch was bombed by the Russian mob, I was almost drugged by their leader, and my parents are probably as good as dead, if not being held for ransom, as we speak. Please tell me a better place to have this conversation.”
Bucky was left stumped for a second. Then he slowly rose back to his feet.
“Okay.”
Infuriating.
“Okay?” you snapped, “We could’ve died five times today and all you can say is okay?”
“Uh-huh.”
Fuck this guy. You wiped your nose and stood up too.
Bucky tried to nudge you back onto the bed, wary of the ever-growing number of bumps, bruises, and nosebleeds afflicting your body. He tensed when you nudged him right back.
“I need to see my family,” You stood firm, “As soon as we land wherever it is we’re going, I’m on the first flight back to New York—or wherever they are.”
You dabbed at your nose once more and looked up at him.
“No, you’re not,” Bucky returned.
“What? You’re gonna stop me?”
“Yes, I will.”
The worst part was he wasn’t even smug about it. Just calm and self-assured. You flung your tissues to the side and threw your hands up in exasperation, feeling the need to step away from him and start pacing the room. The man’s reticence was grating on your nerves.
“Why bother, Buck?” you snorted, “It’s not like I’m even your wife, really. I’m just a peace offering that you get to bend over and fuck every now and then, right?”
You turned to make your first circuit around the foot of the bed but were shortly met with the expanse of Bucky’s chest. You looked up to find him frowning.
“Don’t say that again,” he glowered down at you.
Unlike most times before, you didn’t flinch. When he reached for your wrists, you didn’t let him win.
“I’m not your wife,” you repeated, “We may be playing the most fucked up game of mob charades, but this is not a real marriage.”
You ignored Bucky’s evident desire to grab hold of something of yours and side-stepped easily, expanding the gap between you two as much as you could. It was almost amusing to see him not in control for once, and floundering to recover what semblance of it he could.
“You are my wife,” he insisted, frown growing deeper as you crept along the edge of the room, “Everything I do now is for you—it’s not a goddamn game to me.”
“You used me for some Machiavellian marriage ploy! That is the definition of a game, James!”
“I don’t even know what the fuck that means,” Bucky said, “But I love you.”
“You met me yesterday, motherfucker!”
You could feel another bloody nose rising in your bones. You turned around, swiped your lip with the back of your hand and were surprised to see nothing there. You waited for the bleeding to start back up again. When you turned, Bucky had closed the distance between you and was holding something in his hand.
Before you could protest, he was smoothing the thing over your face—apparently he’d grabbed a washcloth and dampened it—and laced his fingers through the hair at the back of your head. He held you firmly as he blotted the blood.
“Is it so hard to believe that I love you?” he asked quietly.
He was trying hard to placate you, but his actions were having just the opposite effect. You let him wipe the blood from your face but watched him begrudgingly.
“You want someone to control, Bucky,” you said, “Love is not a power play that you get to manipulate at will.”
Bucky blinked, trying to conjure up a response as he daubed the skin with a little more force. You weren’t finished.
“You look at me and see a victim. Someone you need to watch over— who can’t take care of themse—”
“That’s not true.”
“Really? That’s not what a ‘good little wife’ is to you?” you retorted.
At last, Bucky tossed the hand towel to the side and ran a hand through his hair. He stepped toward the dresser, shrugging off his suit jacket.
“That’s a— a bit I do when I’m horny. I don’t actually want you subservient to me,” he muttered as he looked around for a hanger. Finally, he just draped the coat over the back of a chair and sighed.
“So holding me hostage from my family is a bit, too?” you quizzed.
“To keep you safe from the people who tried to kill them. I’m sorry I don’t want to see you butchered because of me,” Bucky returned with just as much biting sarcasm.
“That’s rich coming from you.” You despised the indignation in your tone but couldn’t help it. These thoughts had been brewing inside your skull for hours. You watched Bucky struggle to undo his bow tie—just like the night before—and, again, your brain barely registered the action before you were reaching for the garment and tugging at the fabric to loosen it yourself.
“What are you talking about?” Bucky asked, brow furrowed.
“Last night,” you yanked harder than you meant to. The knot just got tighter, “And today. Tonight. You’re as still as the fucking grave and won’t say a word when something bad is happening. You just let it happen.”
You tried to pry your fingers through the tie but found it stiff as ever. You groaned inwardly.
“No, I don’t,” Bucky objected.
“You’re doing it right now! You wouldn’t tell me about HYDRA, or my father, or the guy who could’ve— hurt me. You didn’t say a word of that to me, and you expect me to believe we’re in this together? That you’re trying to keep me safe? You couldn’t even—” you paused to pull at that stupid tie your husband had tangled about four times over, finally feeling it give way a little—“couldn’t even pretend to give a fuck when those men broke in last night and almost killed us!”
Just as you freed the silk from its knot, Bucky seized your wrist. Shoved your hand off of his collar.
“I had to do that,” he snapped.
He threw his tie to the floor and started to unbutton the cuffs of his sleeves. The sight of his broad, veiny forearms were only visible to you for a second before he headed toward the closet, peeling off bits and pieces of his ensemble as he walked.
“You didn’t do anything, Bucky! You just sat there and got the shit beat out of you for no fucking reason! You didn’t even try to fight back.”
Bucky had just muscled his way out of the confines of his dress shirt, leaving him in a tight, plain white tee. He turned to you with what seemed like the most pointed look of disdain.
“You think I wanted to do that?!” he barked. Suddenly facing you head-on, skin flushed a shade just shy of crimson.
“You were too chickenshit. Didn’t wanna get your hands dirty, so you let Sam do it for you,” you seethed.
Your husband looked as though he wanted to put his fist through a wall and pummel it several times over. Seemed like he did, anyway. In truth, he didn’t move—just watched you with the most cruel, unflinching gaze as he clenched his jaw.
“I’m chickenshit?” he repeated.
“Yeah. Coward,” you spat.
“Too much of a coward to keep you safe?”
“Precisely.”
At long last, you saw Bucky smile. It was the tightest, most humorless grin that had ever crossed his lips, but it was a smile nonetheless. He raised a hand over your head and bracketed his arm against the wall so he was leaning over you. Not meant to intimidate per se, but the sight of that smirk was unnerving, to say the least.
“Did you hear what language they spoke?” he asked, voice unbearably low as he drew his face closer to yours.
“It sounded like—”
“Russian, that’s right,” Bucky cut in, “Do you know what they said to me when they pulled us to the floor?”
You swallowed and said nothing. Bucky’s breaths were fanning hot across your cheeks, sending waves of a strange sensation all throughout your body—you weren’t sure if you were meant to be aroused or scared shitless.
“They told me, ‘If you move, we’ll kill her,’” Bucky deadpanned as he began to trace the wallpaper beside your head with a single, bloodied finger, “‘If you fight, we’ll dismember her and set fire to every piece of her body in front of you.’ Or something to that effect.”
The repetition of their words seared your veins like a legion of flames. You could picture them saying it. Grabbing hold of Bucky’s head by the roots of his hair and beating him over and over and over, threatening your life if he made a single move to stop it.
“Bucky—” you started.
“I know they meant it, too. HYDRA operatives make good on their promises if they really set out to harm someone.”
Your husband’s grin had transformed into something more of a crooked, downcast grimace, just baring his teeth as he tried not to lose his composure. Guilt flooded his face.
“I know I should’ve told you then. And after. I should’ve told you about your father as soon as Steve’s informant told us. I just—” Bucky stopped to swallow; he couldn’t meet your gaze—“I didn’t want that hanging over your head. Not after everything that happened last night.”
It was like a blade had just twisted in your stomach. Your throat ached. You wanted to touch him but were almost too scared to ask. He looked so fragile.
“I am a coward. And controlling. Probably the most chickenshit, overbearing son of a bitch you could’ve been unfortunate enough to marry.” For a moment, Bucky’s gaze flickered to yours, and you saw a blooming red hue around the blues of his irises, “But that’s not how I’m supposed to love you—or going to love you.”
You weren’t sure how to reply; you tried raising a hand to his cheek, just to touch the skin, but decided against it.
“I’ve been a shit husband, fake or not. I’m sorry.”
Fake husband maybe, but the look on his face was intractably authentic. Palpable. He blinked as though trying to clear the warm and heady feelings from his expression—suddenly not wanting you to see the shades of his emotions painted there—and focused instead on a few stray strands of hair that had blown over your face. He got very invested in those, all of a sudden.
While your husband stroked the corners of your face and fixed his gaze away from yours, you felt the smallest prick of warmth spark within you. Bucky looked soft and serene and sincere in his apology, defenseless now as he grazed his knuckles over your cheek and said it again,
“I’m sorry, honey. I’m so sorry.”
He paired his apology with a rapid succession of little kisses pressed to your forehead, moving his hand to the nape of your neck to pull you closer to him.
You wanted to touch him, too. You almost felt as though you didn’t know how.
So you stood there and accepted his affections and tried to nod your head when he asked if you were alright, were you hurting any, baby? You leaned into the gentle pressure of his fingertips taking stock of every cut and bruise you’d sustained over the course of that day, watched Bucky’s brow furrow with each new discovery, and tried not to let his touch stray far down your body.
You wanted to be the one with your hands on him—now more than ever.
When Bucky’s hand trailed over your chin, you tilted your head just slightly to kiss it. Your husband didn’t think much of it, just smiling down as tender as he always did, when your lips really grazed over the skin. You pressed a kiss to his finger and wordlessly urged him to move it further. Now it was Bucky’s turn to be at a loss for what to do as you took the tip of his thumb between your lips and suckled it, gently.
“Honey,” he let out a sigh, half-encouragement and half-warning—what were you trying to do?
You glided your mouth down his finger so half of his thumb was enveloped inside. You sucked it again.
“You can’t…” Bucky maintained feebly, eyes briefly scouring all the cuts and bruises across your skin. He didn’t want to see you strain yourself any further.
But whatever pain this might cause was ancillary to you; you curled your tongue around the digit and moaned lightly.
The taste of one finger alone was enough to send you into a frenzy. That and the fact that he had been so open and honest and attentive to your needs made every bone in your body want to jump his. Something about a man taking accountability for his actions and communicating them in a way that didn’t intimidate or belittle you was refreshing. Sexy, almost. Admittedly, the bar for mob boss husbands was hovering somewhere deep in hell, but you admired Bucky’s efforts all the same.
You popped his thumb out of your mouth and smiled.
“You worry too much, Mr. Barnes.”
The echo of his words from earlier—the ones he’d said as he was railing you against a mirror—made Bucky’s cock twitch. His gaze trailed down to the sheen of saliva on your lip, and he almost folded on the spot. He swallowed.
“Don’t wanna hurt you, bunny,” he murmured as you sucked your bottom lip between your teeth and peered up at him.
“Hurt me how?”
You really hadn’t meant to sound like such a tease when you’d said it, but it was hard not to come across that way when you were watching him like that.
And sinking to your knees, with your eyes glued on his.
Bucky sucked in a breath as you kneeled between his feet and nudged the seam of his pants with your nose. He felt so big against your face, you almost couldn’t fathom how he’d fit inside of you the night before. You were amazed how quickly he’d gotten hard—as if the two of you weren’t just having a heart-to-heart a second ago—and you felt your own arousal pool in your panties.
“You know I don’t mind if it hurts. Love the way you stretch me out anyhow,” you continued, and tried not to smirk as you imagined a dozen filthy images from last night flash before Bucky’s mind.
You heard him stifle a groan when you ghosted your lips over the bulge in his pants and felt him swell even more. Your mouth watered at the sound, the sensation, the raw anticipation of what was to come and knowing that you got to dictate what happened. You undid the button and the zip of his pants and damn near drooled at the sight.
Even confined to his boxers, Bucky looked fucking huge.
Suddenly, you began to understand how needy he had been the night before when he’d first wedged his face between your legs and gotten a taste of you. You hadn’t so much as sampled an inch of his cock, and you were already aching to swallow him whole.
“You have no idea what you do to me,” Bucky grunted as he planted a hand on the wall in front of him. You kissed the outline of his clothed erection and earned a full-throated groan.
Well, that makes two of us, you wanted to say but were too busy palming him through his boxers to utter a word. Soaking in the sight of him with every sweet, soft groan he made and wanting to be the reason for even more.
“Can I take you in my mouth, daddy?” you asked softly.
Bucky flattened his palm against the wall and nodded. Beyond words as you worked him out of his boxers.
For one, fleeting moment, you almost wanted to walk back your big talk when his cock sprung out of the fabric. You really hadn’t seen his length at all last night—too busy having it stuffed inside your cunt to get a good look—but holy shit was it an intimidating sight. You weren’t sure if it was just the nerves of this being your first time giving head or if Bucky truly was that massive, but you felt your courage start to crumble before your eyes.
My husband is hung like a fucking horse and I’ve never fit anything bigger than a couple fingers in my mouth. This should go well.
Bucky was evidently so turned on that he didn’t notice the apprehension in your expression. After all, you were moving your lips down his cock and seizing the base of him with what looked like excitement.
Should I…lick it first?
It seemed you would have to learn all of this on the job. You stuck your tongue out and ran it up the length of his shaft.
When Bucky groaned in response, you sensed that that was okay. You pressed a few kisses on the underside of his member and scrambled to think of what else to do.
“Fuck, baby,” your husband let out the most guttural sound as you squeezed his length in your hand. Then, to your surprise, he seized a fistful of your hair between his fingers and rutted his hips, pushing the head of himself against your lips, “Take me in your mouth.”
You heard the Kill Bill sirens blare between your ears but said nothing. You could do this—you’d be fine.
Your lips wrapped around the head of his cock, and Bucky gripped your hair even tighter. Let out a deep, satisfied moan like this was exactly what he needed. You liked that noise and wanted to take him even further.
What you didn’t expect was four more inches shoved inside your mouth before you could stop to take a breath.
The whole girth of his cock made a sharp intrusion, causing your cheeks to stretch and hollow out around him. The head of his member barely grazed the back of your throat, and still, you gagged. And not only gagged but choked, as though someone had just tried to scrub your tonsils with a fine-bristle toothbrush. Unfortunately for you, Bucky’s dick did not taste like spearmint.
He pulled his cock out as quickly as he’d pushed it in.
“Sorry. Shit, sorry.” Bucky blinked twice to get out of that blissed-out headspace and shot you a sheepish look.
The man had rarely been obliged to slow down or take five when his old, ever-changing flavors of the night sucked him off before—most blew him without trouble. But you, kneeling there batting your lashes through a few more tears than expected, seemed uncertain. Even half of his shaft made for a tight fit in your mouth, Bucky thought with some guilty feelings of arousal. He watched you wipe your chin with the back of your hand and frown.
“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, baby,” Bucky said, stroking the top of your head.
Suddenly, the frown was turned in his direction.
You raised a brow.
“Why? That all you got, Barnes?”
Bucky couldn’t help but chuckle—and grunt, a little—when you grabbed the base of his cock and brought it down to your swollen pout. His hand instinctively moved back to the wall.
“Honey, are you s—”
He stopped the second you rubbed him up and down and pressed a kiss on the most sensitive skin.
“My mouth isn’t made of paper mâché. You can fuck it a little harder than that,” you said, running your touch down his length while holding his gaze. You looked eager.
Before Bucky could respond, you took the tip of his cock between your lips. Flattened your tongue and glided your mouth down as far as it could go before your cheeks started to hurt—then bobbed your head even further. One of your husband’s hands made a fist in your hair while the other scraped the wall, and you could tell it was taking some serious effort not to rut his hips out of habit.
Be gentle, be gentle, your dick barely fits in her mouth—
“—fucking hell you feel good,” he groaned.
Bucky took one look and could have cum on the spot.
It was one thing to feel you licking and sucking and stretching to accommodate his length, and another thing entirely to see you knelt in front of him with the world’s sweetest gaze, mouth stuffed full of his cock and eyes all but rolling back at the overwhelming sensation. You’d nearly made it all the way to the short tufts of hair on his lower abdomen—and looked so pretty doing it.
Bucky fucking loved it. And you. And fucking you, your face, any place he could fit himself, quite frankly. He stared down at you struggling to take his cock and felt a strange new wave of desire pulsing through his body.
“You like that, doll? Like when daddy fucks that slutty little mouth of yours?”
“Barely fits but you take it so well, bunny.”
“My good little wife and her pretty fucking mouth—likes sucking daddy’s cock however deep he needs it, huh?”
You liked it more than the air in your lungs, to be honest. Only problem was you couldn’t quite speak your mind with your mouth full of Bucky, so you had only to nod. Your husband groaned when you hummed along his length and bobbed your head to answer ‘yes.’ He saw you try not to gag and decided to thrust a little deeper.
He watched his cock drag back and forth along your tongue and took hold of your hair like a vice, fucking your face until your chin and cheeks were drenched with spit. Every now and then he’d pull his cock out just long enough to ask how bad you wanted him in your mouth, how desperate you were to taste him again, and every time you’d answer a little more sweetly and incoherently than before, eyes glazed with desire and mouth open for more.
You were amazed you’d lasted as long as you had—how quickly you’d devolved into this pliable, doe-eyed cocksleeve for Bucky and how keenly you desired to please him even more. It felt pornographic and lewd and somehow still loving as he plowed in and out of your mouth and sang your praises like no man had before.
Above you, Bucky was aching for release but adamant that he wouldn’t cum down your throat—not yet, at least.
His mind was alight with those pesky, primal thoughts again, and every time he watched you swallow him whole, he just wanted to fuck his cum someplace else.
Bucky wasn’t sure if he was smitten or simply dominated by carnal desire; all he knew was that he wanted to give you his babies.
Lots and lots of babies.
A hundred or more, if he had it his way.
Again, you barely had a chance to take a fresh breath before Bucky threw you onto the bed. You’d just tried to steady yourself in a semi-seated position when the man shoved you back in the pillows and slotted himself between your legs, pupils blown wide with hunger.
In a blink, you were flipped onto your stomach with your ass yanked high in the air. Back made to arch, toes about to curl, you closed your eyes and sank your teeth into the sheets, moments away from begging your husband to fuck you right then and there, but Bucky had other plans. He seized the hair at the crown of your head and jerked your head to face forward.
The first thing to greet you was your own reflection—in a floor-to-ceiling mirror at the foot of the bed—followed by Bucky’s broad form steadying behind you. You watched him wet his lips, furrow his brow, and use one careful hand to guide the head of his cock to your entrance. Completely piqued with arousal as you were, weeping beads of desire from that place between your legs, you almost wanted to buck your hips and fuck him yourself.
You refrained.
Bucky pressed the tip of himself to your clit and met your gaze in the mirror when you let out a whimper.
“You didn’t mean it, did you?” he asked, tone suddenly dropped to that of a stoic.
“Mean what?”
It took an unbelievable amount of willpower to fight the moan in your throat when Bucky dragged his cock down the seam of your cunt and rubbed every hot, throbbing inch of himself in the slickness between your folds. You were quick to take the sheets in your hands and squeeze as tight as you could—you wouldn’t let him win that easy.
“When you said you weren’t my wife. Did you mean it?” Bucky was coating himself now, rolling his hips back and forth while you seized the white linens for dear life.
“No. I didn’t,” you said through your teeth. Your eyelids fluttered with the feel of him circling your sensitive hole.
“Do you want to be my wife?” Bucky had to have known it was an asinine question, but he asked it all the same.
“Yes.”
“You do?”
“I do. I do. Now will you just fuck me already?”
In response, and as if to make a mockery of your request, Bucky just pressed the head of his cock inside you and watched you close in the mirror—daring your hips to move back another inch.
“What else do you want to be, doll?”
To say your mind was an empty slate bare of anything but the desire to be fucked was an understatement. You fumbled to find words.
“Your wife, your girl— that’s it, Bucky.”
Your husband nudged his cock a little deeper.
“A good girl?” he hummed.
“Yes, daddy,” you cried and clenched around him.
Bucky stayed where he was and stretched your wet, aching hole with just his tip, making the world’s most shallow thrusts as he flattened his hand on your back and made sure it stayed arched while he teased you.
At this point, you didn’t care what the man saw or heard. You fought with your hips and whined into the sheets.
“Bucky!”
“Wanna be my obedient little cockslut?” he asked.
“Uh-huh.”
“My bunny?”
“Yes, James.” Your cheeks were enflamed, almost hot to the touch.
Bucky suddenly drove himself inside you all the way to the hilt. He squeezed your hip in one hand and with the other slipped a finger between your folds to rub vicious, tight circles against your clit as you bucked and moaned beneath his touch.
“How about a momma?” he pressed, almost too low to be heard, “Wanna be that, too?”
His hips fell into a quick and easy rhythm against your ass, stretching you wide and filling you up almost seamlessly. Your mind was too consumed with pleasure and him to think much else, but barely, you managed,
“W-what?”
Bucky delivered a thrust that knocked the breath from your chest, leaning down to rub your clit even harder.
“Do you want to be a mommy? Have me fill you up and put my baby inside you?”
Oh, fuck. Fucking—what the fuck? Your toes curled as a new jolt of pleasure shot through you, and your gaze locked with Bucky’s in the mirror. He knew exactly what he was doing.
“No— James, we’re not, shit—” you stopped to take a breath as he fucked you rough from behind, smirking the whole time, “We’re not ready for that.”
“Look pretty…ready to me,” Bucky stifled a groan when you squeezed around him and made obscene little noises sliding up and down his cock. He watched the way your pretty, wet pussy stretched and swallowed him down to the base and imagined it dripping with his cum. He snapped his hips against your ass even faster.
It wasn’t clear just who was more overcome with desire—both of you blissed out and fuckdrunk as you’d ever been—and then Bucky flipped you onto your back.
He wanted to see your face as he fucked you slow this time, lips hovering mere inches from your own as he dragged his cock gently in and out of you.
“James,” you breathed, digging your heels in his back with a wordless plea to speed up, baby, please.
In truth, you just knew what would happen if Bucky had the advantage of slow and soft sex with a mouth lowered close to your ear. How he’d shower you with kisses and bring you right to the edge, rolling his hips against your body with strings of sweet praises flowing fast off his tongue.
“Just one, honey,” he mumbled, lips grazing the edge of your jaw, “One baby and I promise we’ll be done.”
Yeah fucking right, you wanted to return with a roll of your eyes but felt your insides churn as he grazed that spot.
“Can you do that for me, doll?” he eased his dick back and forth and snaked a hand between your bodies until his palm was laying flat on your stomach, “Fit my baby in there?”
You couldn’t deny the feelings of pleasure were heightened to no end when he rubbed the heel of his palm into your tummy and continued to rut into you. That feeling of fullness, the delicate nudge against your most sensitive place, paired with the warmth of Bucky’s hand on your lower abdomen, was as close to euphoric as you’d ever felt before orgasm, and it wasn’t hard to tell from the way your body responded. Bucky worked his touch even deeper and watched you writhe beneath him.
“My sweet girl,” he cooed, rubbing that spot, “You’d look so pretty all swole up down here, don’t you think?”
Fucking hell, this guy was good. You squeezed your eyes shut and tried to shake your head.
“Someone…tried to kill us…twice in the last twenty four hours,” you managed between labored breaths. Trying not to whimper when the head of Bucky’s cock kissed your cervix and you felt him bottom out inside you.
Balls deep and enamored with the expression on your face, Bucky laid a kiss on your forehead and smiled.
“I’ll take Schröder’s life with my own two hands if it means keeping you—” he paused to press his palm even firmer on your stomach, “—and our child safe, honey.”
You wanted to believe him. You sincerely hoped your husband could make good on his promise—even if it meant delivering an agonizing, bloody death to a man you barely knew—but you sensed deep down that there were no guarantees in the world Bucky Barnes inhabited. From what little you’d seen in the last day and a half, it had become clear as ever that there were no certainties; no promise of tomorrow, much less a probability that things would pan out exactly as you planned. Add to that a living, breathing child between you two, and the prospects for a safe, secure, and peaceful future were small. Infinitesimally so, in the grand scheme of things.
“No, Bucky,” you finally opened your eyes to find his tender gaze watching over you. Still moving his hips gently, still blanketing your body with his own, “That’s entirely just— just irresponsible. You know it would be.”
“Making a child together?” Bucky seemed wounded saying the words.
And, in spite of the serious turn your conversation had taken, you could see and feel with the growing pace of your breaths that both of you were close. You wanted more than anything to repair that muted, injured look in his eyes, but then Bucky was blinking it away, to the best of his abilities, and lowering his head back down to yours to impart a soft barrage of kisses along your skin. He resumed before you could even think to speak again.
“Okay. No, you’re right. It’s your choice, my love,” he murmured against your cheek, getting back into the more deliberate rhythm of his thrusts before. He stayed there holding his body and his lips as close to yours as possible, and when you felt tempted to say something again, you found the sound drowned by a cresting wave of pleasure.
Your legs tightened around Bucky’s sides, and your head fell back on the bed. You felt Bucky’s drop right beside you, turned just slightly to graze his lips against your ear.
“Gonna cum for me, doll?”
You nodded.
“So close, Bucky,” you breathed, a tremor passing over your thighs as they squeezed him even tighter.
You felt your husband’s hand move from your belly to a place just below it—taking care to bring the pad of his thumb to that wet, aching bundle of nerves—and started drawing circles. Your back arched from the bed, into him, and the coil of pleasure in your lower half swelled.
“Good girl,” Bucky growled, “Good fuckin’ girl, taking me so well.”
The praises and gentle circuits of his thumb continued as he fucked you harder into the bed and panted against your skin. Increasing the speed of his thrusts before catching your mouth in a sloppy kiss, body sinking into yours.
“Gonna make a mess of this cock, huh? Show daddy just how much you love it?”
You whined in response, feeling your muscles start to ache from how hard your legs were wrapped around him. Bucky invaded your mouth with his tongue, kissing and licking and craving your taste as he fucked you stupid—and begged for your release.
“Cum for daddy, honey, I know you got it. Let daddy feel it, baby, please.”
A couple more snaps of his hips and you gave him just that: a hot, cascading ripple of bliss spreading all throughout your body, sending your mind in spirals and every muscle under your command a tense, throbbing mess. You swallowed a scream and took a bite of Bucky’s shoulder instead, causing the man above you to grin and fuck you harder.
“That’s my girl,” he mumbled with an audible hint of pride.
The smile only started to waver when his own release was coming close. Suddenly, his grip was moving to your hip and pinning you down to the bed, brows pinching in and breaths starting to hitch.
“Honey— honey,” he said, voice strained, “Baby, you— you gotta let go of your— ah, fuck.”
Still riding out the highs of your orgasm, you hardly even noticed how tight you were holding him with your legs, and shortly, this raised issues for Bucky, who was trying like hell to heed your wishes and not cum inside you.
“Baby, let go, I gotta—”
He probably could’ve fought to shake you off a little harder, been a bit more adamant about his efforts, but you looked so comfortable and lithe and sweet beneath his frame, so blissed out and happy to be taking his strokes, Bucky almost had to pinch himself to rouse his lust-addled brain to action and remind himself that this was how babies are made, man, get the fuck off of her.
Bucky let out a long, strangled groan as the ropes of cum left his body before he could think, or move, fast enough.
He hastily pushed your legs away and pulled out, but not before painting your walls with a good portion of his load. His hand fell to his cock and started jerking the rest of it out over your stomach, body washing with pleasure.
Vaguely, thoughts of babies and ballgames and neat white picket fences crossed his mind, but those views were fleeting; he remembered what you’d told him and forced himself back to earth, dropping a quick, apologetic kiss to the side of your face.
“I’m sorry. Should’ve pulled out quicker,” Bucky panted against your neck.
You stroked his bicep and shook your head.
“You’re fine. I kinda had you down like a boa constrictor for a second,” you breathed and shared a weary laugh.
Before you knew it, Bucky was sliding off the bed and shuffling toward the bathroom in search of a towel. You prodded the warm, gooey mess on your belly with your finger and raised an eyebrow. Curious, and only slightly worried.
Bucky had been hitting it raw for a day now—surely one more half-load of his wouldn’t get you pregnant, right?
Fortunately, you didn’t have much longer to ponder that thought because a trill of a ringtone sounded from the nightstand.
A phone call? At 45,000 feet?
“Just the intercom,” Bucky called out, “Probably Steve about to start complaining that we fuck too loud.”
Huh. You stared at the trimline-looking telephone on the table and let it ring. Then the sound stopped.
“You think they could hear us?” you asked.
Bucky had just wet a washcloth under the sink and was rifling through the cabinets for something else.
“Hope so,” he said with a shrug, “You know I’d never miss a chance to let ‘em know I took a trip to poundtown—”
“Please never say that again,” you groaned, closing your eyes in sudden fear of what Steve and Sam may or may not have just been made privy to outside of the room.
You were just about to speak up again—perhaps to tell your husband there would be an indefinite travel ban to poundtown if he didn’t hurry the fuck up with that towel—when the intercom’s jarring peal started up once more.
Fuck this. Ignoring the sticky-sweet puddle of love still painted on your stomach, you sat up and crawled over to the phone and ripped it off the hook.
“Barnes residence,” you announced without ceremony. Then, imagining how smug Steve was probably looking on the other end of that line, you decided to be crass and add, “Bucky Barnes is very busy laying pipe on his wife right now, but if you could leave your name and number, he’ll be sure to call you back as soon as possible!”
You heard the caller burst out laughing, and you smiled to yourself. Pleased to have made an otherwise moody and brooding Steve Rogers crack at one of your jokes, you were just about to hang up when the caller cut in.
Bucky was returning with your towel in hand, lips curled in the faintest of smirks at hearing your crude declaration, when he stopped at the foot of the bed.
He saw the smile fall from your face, and his did, too.
From the other end of the line, a soft and familiar Southern drawl crawled out of the phone’s receiver.
“Sure thing, doll. Tell him it’s Joey Schröder calling.”
Taglist: @vicmc624, @she-could-never, @mcira, @kentokaze, @identity2212, @unaxv, @buchi91, @ordelixx, @stinkerbelle007, @opibarnes, @wilsons-striped-ties, @desigirlxx, @pono-pura-vida, @geminiflanagansblog, @fandomsfeminismandme, @buggy14, @sky-full-0f-fl0wers, @buckysdoll1520, @armystay89, @minimarvelingmarvel, @kunakizen, @ghostiebby06, @blackhawkfanatic, @dameron-grant-spector, @sushiseoks, @deansapplepie, @mrsjoequinn, @lunaroserites, @first-edition, @kaybaby2494, @jaggedsi, @excusememrbarnes, @daisychainsoflove, @mostlymarvelgirl, @diannana, @shawnberry, @yujyujj, @urmomsalex, @mrs-bucky-barnes-73, @athenabarnes, @christinabae, @wintrsoldrluvr, @bethbunnyy, @i-heart-smut
(If I missed anyone or tagged improperly, please let me know! This is my first rodeo taglist)
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#marvel#mcu#mob bucky barnes#marvel smut#marvel x reader#james buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes
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|| Party Girl ||
Summary: You secretly go to a party mid exam season and your friend forgets to exclude Ari, your responsible senior boyfriend, from their social media stories. To make things worse, said party is at his rival, Ransom Drysdale's house, who unbeknownst to you, ends up posting a picture of you two together.
Pairing: Daddy/Cg!Ari Levinson | Little!You.
Disclaimer: I (unfortunately) do not own Ari Levinson. This is a mature story so browse at your own discretion. Minors do not interact.
Warning(s): Smut with plot (c'mon it's me), spanking (ass and pussy), punishment, protective!Ari, possessive!Ari, Daddy kink, ddlg vibes, orgasm denial, rough p-in-v, cock warming, slight angst because we are being responsible for once, mean Ari, dacryphilia, humiliation, begging, doggy style, hair pulling, choking, slapping, dumbification, unprotected but reader is on birth control, creampie, degradation, maybe slight fear kink.
Note: First independent Ari fic go boommm~ Also omg I'd forgotten how good ddlg can be lmfao the warnings literally increased a shit ton from the teaser. Lots of love to everyone who was so nice to the teaser. Feedback is much appreciated 🩷
MASTERLIST
"Mmm, Dadduuuuu~" the remnants of the painkillers that you had hurriedly chugged down were still bitter on your tongue as you returned to your boyfriend in the living room. Sliding over the couch from behind, you crawled into Ari's lap and nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck. The stiffness of his form went unnoticed by you due to your much unfortunate hungover state. Him not turning the tv on to watch some sports should have been the second sign that your fate for the day had been sealed before you had even woken up. The first was him showing up to your apartment unannounced and cooking you breakfast. Not that you knew it yet, it was to prepare you for what was coming. You foolishly took it for granted and thought he had come over to study together as he sometimes did on Sunday mornings.
"Slept well, baby?" You purred into his soft hair to signal agreement as one of your hands reached to snake around his dark brown locks.
"Yes, Dada~" you gave the third sign yourself. It was habit for you to get super clingy whenever you were sick… or hungover. "Followed bedtime rules~" as you smiled and craned your neck to bat your lashes up at him after lying through your teeth with shameless confidence, you sighed to yourself.
God.
You really, really, really loved and appreciated your boyfriend but right now you wished more than anything that he rather have some other plans today.
Because it was 8 in the morning on a Sunday!
Since you had snuck out, you had to pretend that you had gone to sleep at your bedtime; which was 10pm. But the truth was that you had stumbled into this very apartment with your roommates at 4 in the morning drunk off your rocker! All you wanted right now was to crawl into your bed and sleep the whole day away.
"Oh, is that so?" You were too tired to notice the mock in his faux amusement.
"Of course, Daddy!" You tightened your other arm around his broad shoulders in as convincing a way as you could muster. "Good babies follow Daddy's rules, right?" Shame nipped at your cheeks so you kissed his cheek to hide the blush that was spreading across them.
You felt bad but if Ari found out, your butt would feel worse.
Besides, what he did not know could not hurt him.
… Right?
Ari nodded, leaning his heavy body to one side in order to fish his phone out of his pocket before he unlocked it, softly squishing and pulling your ass with his free hand. "Do you have a twin, baby?"
Your eyebrows furrowed and you snorted at the randomness. "What?" When he did not respond and kept swiping away on his phone you added, feeling just a little uneasy now. He only behaved like this when something was wrong. "Of course not, Daddy."
"Then this is just the craziest little thing, isn't it?" He turned to look at you and the intensity in his sky blue eyes made you gulp.
"What is, Daddy?" You had checked your app settings three times to make sure he was excluded so it couldn't be that.
… Right?!
"Come here" the pretentiousness in his enthusiasm was clear as he 'excitedly' pulled you closer. Ari was not like that. He was the chill, laid-back kind of guy and you were the frivolous, fussy and noisy one. "Look at what I saw on Dee's story last night!" As he showed you a screen recording of one of the many stories your friend had posted last night, your blood ran cold. "Doesn't this girl standing between her and Steve look just like you?" You gulped as he pointed at a carefree you having the time of your life doing silly TikTok dances with your friends as your titties bounced in the skimpy outfit that you wore to the party.
Oh, he did not appreciate you wearing those kinds of clothes in public settings.
Especially if he was absent at said settings.
"But of course, it's just a lookalike" Ari nodded sarcastically in a fake reassuring manner, every word laced in mock. "Because… wait, when was this? Oh, yes" he checked the time it had been posted. "This was way past my baby's bedtime who was in bed after studying for her upcoming exam the entire day!" Since it was a screen recording -you could always count on criminology major Ari for precaution-, the next story played and there you stood happily doing another dance with… fuck.
You were dead, done, dusted, deceased.
Or at least, your ass was.
Your urge to kick Dee increased with the passing second.
"And of course, the party was at Drysdale's house" the blood under your face was bubbling. "So there's no way that's my baby because she would never betray me like that, right?" Ransom was Ari's arch nemesis.
The major fellows continuously rivaled each other in grades and their respective sports. While your boyfriend was the football captain, Ransom was that of the basketball team and there was even a rumor that they had initially competed for the title your boyfriend now held all throughout their freshman year. Since Ransom refused to be subordinate to Ari, he had left shortly after losing to him and had joined the team he captained now.
But Ransom had always been so nice to you it didn't feel right being mean to him!
Or yes, perhaps he was a tad bit too nice.
You were naive and Ari was overprotective.
Another story rolled on. Dee had the camera in selfie mode as she pressed her cheeks against Steve's -her boyfriend-, who was nuzzling against her and laughing at you along with her. You were having a chug off with– you wanted to facepalm with all the strength you had.
Fucking hell, you did not even remember meeting Ransom let alone having a beer race with the guy! And now there was footage of the event you had blanked out in your unhappy Daddy's phone!
Why had he even hung out with your group for that long?!
"This girl is gonna get in soooo much trouble!" Steve tipsily pointed at you as you drunkenly cheered and waved in the camera upon being shown, grabbing another bottle from your boyfriend's rival but only sipping at it now. In your defense, you did not remember the Ransom bits because you couldn't care less for the guy and you were probably too drunk by the time he found your group.
"Shhhh, it's a secret, guys…" Dee pretended to whisper into the camera. "Ari doesn't know she's here, we excluded him from our stories!" The football captain was a renowned campus topper so it didn't need any more explanation than that.
How said captain managed to keep up with all of his obligations, was a popular mystery.
"And she's gonna be one sorry little girl when he finds out" Steve spoke like the loyal friend that he was to Ari, both his substitute captain and childhood best friend. His girlfriend laughed and switched to back-camera again to show you. "He's not gonna be happy, you know?" The blonde man was heard speaking to you as though you were a child and you were glaring at him exactly like one.
"I am a big girl!" You scowled as you shot back, cheeks puffed and arms crossed. "And if he's gonna be unhappy then that's just too bad!" Dee had told you that her boyfriend shared the same old fashioned thoughts as your Daddy regarding certain things. "Because I don't CARE! He's not here and I am!" You giggled into the camera as you stumbled closer, your nose colliding with the lens as your whole group laughed with you. Then, as though you hadn't damned yourself enough, you grabbed the camera and looked into it. "Sorry not sorry, Daddy! If you mind so much… come and stop me? Oh, what's that?!" You winced and cringed at the girl in the video -you- as she put her hand behind her ear to 'listen' better. "You can't?! Because you don't even know?! Oh–" the phone was snatched from you with a cackle and the story ended abruptly along with the music and laughter.
How the hell did you not remember any of that?!
Your face was hot in embarrassment.
And what the hell would you even do that for?!
"Huh" Ari snorted as he cocked his head to the side. "Did you hear that, baby? They were talking about me" you looked anywhere but at the smug man, praying for your ass and wellbeing. "But since there's only one me and I only have one baby…" You gulped as you gingerly detached yourself from him and tried to move away only to fail. Daddy had a near death grip on your butt.
His suspicions from yesterday had just been confirmed. Ari could read you like a book and he had noticed something was off about your behavior yesterday. To which you had denied by brushing his questions off and assuring him that everything was fine.
Only…
Your heart was hammering against its cage in panic. Clearing your throat after nervously chuckling a little, you tried to politely twist free from his rough hands. "Y- You're right, Daddy… that's n- not me" now why would you say that?! As Ari raised an amused eyebrow at your sheer audacity, you went to stand.
"Is that so, little girl?" And then you dared to nod, only digging your grave deeper.
"Yeaah… Oh! I think my phone's-" you tried to make a run for it but one heavy arm wrapped around your form to make you stay put.
"Oh, yes" much to your horror, Ari took your phone out from his other pocket now. "Your phone, how could I forget?" Unlocking the screen showing a picture of you two cuddled up on a camping trip, Ari tapped on your Snapchat app. "I am so proud of you for following all your rules and studying hard yesterday, baby" he said as he tapped through your many stories from last night before swiping to story settings to find him crossed out. "I really treasure the trust we have built in this relationship" that made you lower your head, his disappointed voice enough for your throat to tighten. Now he tapped on your Instagram and went to a pending tag request. "And the mutual respect is just off the charts" your eyes stung and bottom lip wobbled when he pressed at said request.
Ransom had tagged you in a selfie he had posted with you, the both of you posing with your drinks. The caption read 'Saturday night shenanigans' and there were comments from his friends about– of fucking course.
No wonder he had clung to your group like a leech after spotting you amongst them last night!
He had used you to one up Ari.
You opened your mouth to speak and raked your tired mind for excuses. But none came. When you slowly looked up at your pissed off boyfriend, you sniffled in defense and gulped down the huge bile that had formed in your throat. His anger was justified. What was he to make of all this?
You would have reacted in a much worse manner had you been in his place.
Hell, you actually had ghosted him for a whole week early on in your relationship once because some cheerleader was getting too handsy with him.
That was before Ari had taught you how to communicate.
Jeez, he knew everything, didn't he?
Why couldn't you just shut up and obey your Daddy without question because he clearly knew best?!
"I… s- so sorry, Daddy…" His face was stern; features hard and eyes a dull disappointed blue instead of the usual intelligent bright coral. You tried to say more but shame strangled you and your bottom lip wobbled again. "Sorry…" Turning around in his arms and placing yourself flat against his lap, you couldn't help but pout. You wanted to say more, you really did. But no words came.
Ransom's stupid post had closed all paths to easy redemption.
He was so dead!
You just knew Daddy was not going to let him get away this time.
"Are you?" The arm that faced your back laid down along its length, his elbow firmly digging between your shoulder blades to nail you in place. "Or are you only saying it because you got caught and are in trouble now?" A hiss left you when he squeezed your ass and caught an old bruise in his grip.
"N- No, Daddy!" You whined. "R- Really do m–" your words were sucked out of your throat in a gasp when Ari gave a particularly hard pull to one of your cheeks, causing your pucker to painfully stretch sideways in the process.
"I am sorry, what was that?" You pouted.
He got so mean during punishments!
Yet, you could feel your special parts bubble up to life. "R- Really do mean that I am s- sorry, Daddy!"
The older only hummed. "Good" before his calloused fingers disconnected with your ass cheek only to come down on it with a heavy smack a few moments after. "You should be." A loud grunt left you as one of your feet kicked up defensively.
"Oh!"
Ari hummed as he drew his hand back and then brought it down again, your cheeks jiggling in the process. "Yes, oh" the sarcasm was making your cheeks burn even hotter. But as his hand worked on your poor little butt that was sure to have started blushing even in its still clothed state -which were some panties that you wore under one of your boyfriend's huge shirts-, you realized that things were yet to get worse.
Much worse.
"Lying" five smacks followed that and you jumped with each one. "Sneaking out" each of your cheeks received a spank before your naturally wet panties -Ari was to fully blame here, his existence alone triggered you- were peeled off with a click of his tongue before six repetitive strikes were administered to your now blushing and much nude butt. "Staying up past curfew!"
"Sorry, Daddy!" You could do nothing but helplessly grip his leg and lay ass up at his mercy.
"Oh, already, little girl?" Ari's calloused palm was relentless as it continued to collide with your fleshy cushions after being pulled back up in air to produce as much force as possible. "But I have barely even started with you yet" you kicked your legs to help and fight the pain of his harsh slaps, your spoiled little butt jiggling feverishly with each hit.
"Oh, nooooo!" You couldn't help but sink your teeth down into the hard muscle of his lap when a particularly hard thump fell directly atop your pucker and made you feel as though it had shattered the rim.
Ari was a really strong guy after all.
"Oh, yes" your boyfriend taunted as he paused his hits to harshly squeeze one of your cheeks before pulling it away from the center and creating space between your legs. "You disobey Daddy, lie to him and break his rules to go to a party that–" your lips formed into an 'O' shape as you arched your back and nearly mewled in response when he cupped his free hand against the curve of your blushing ass, fingers tapping against your moist core. "Ransom fucking Drysdale is hosting," your tingling pussy was now beginning to warm up due to his incessant pats. "And then as if that's not enough, you party with him and fucking post about it–"
"Ouchie, Daddy!" You cried out when he pulled his hand out from between your ass cheeks only to resume the spanking. "Please!" You were sure that your whines and pleads were going to wake the girls up.
… Not that it would be the first time that they would overhear you getting absolutely railed or punished to fuck and back.
"Oh, and let's not forget hiding your silly little social media star adventures from your Daddy!" Your eyes were starting to tear up from how badly your poor ass was throbbing.
"Swear I am sorry, Daddy!" Ari clicked his tongue when you tried to get away, placing a firm hand on the small of your back to keep you trapped and meek. It continued like that for a couple minutes and it was only when you were afraid his next hit would draw blood did he stop.
Only…
"Dirty little girl" Ari grunted as he moved down and onto your soaking pussy now. "Making a mess all over the fuckin' place while she's being punished, tsk" your bottom lip wobbled as you blinked away stars that the heavy slap had caused. "Is your silly little brain too stupid to understand that this is not playtime, huh little girl?" The tenderness in his mocking words made you the wrong kind of warm and before you knew you it, tears were streaming down your face due to how exposed and sensitive you felt.
"... N- No, Daddy" you sniffled and he snorted. "N- Not playtime…" Your mouth quivered.
"Ah, great. The good old academy award performance!" Your features scrunched and you sobbed out loud at that, trembling when Ari slapped your core again. "How could we leave that out!"
"R- Really do mean it, D- Dada!" Your boyfriend tutted before connecting another strike to your vulnerable folds.
"Is that why you're leaking like a dumb little slut?" Your eyes clenched shut as you anticipated yet another spank but were surprised when one of his fingers pressed into your leaking slit instead. "Because you're so sorry?" Your body tensed and fingers tightened around his leg regardless of the suddenness, whilst his invaded and explored your narrow passage of flesh.
"Daddy…" Your head fell limp as you hissed, clenching around his finger as it slowly pumped in and out of you.
"Do you think you deserve to feel good after you humiliated your Daddy like that, little girl?" Your frantic breaths got heavier and more labored as his finger gained momentum. "Making all those asinine big girl speeches and daring your Daddy to participate in your kiddy little games like he has the time?" You could only shake your head as you sucked on your thumb since it had snuck its way into your mouth out of habit, willing your hips closer to your relief.
But Ari knew your greed too well.
And his thick digit was pulled out of you with a loud and devastating plop to which you reacted with a sharp turn of your head, gaping up at him with your teary eyes with shock painfully evident on your face.
The male shook his head with a sigh. "You really thought I was gonna let you off the hook just like that?"
"B- But…"
"But, what?" The edge of his words along with the intimidating raise of an eyebrow killed all your protests in your throat.
"N- Nothing, Da–" You hicupped. "D- Daddy."
"Hm, that's what I thought" Ari nodded sarcastically as he kept his eyes on you but continued to torture your pussy with the lightest of rubs and prods for a short frustrating while. "Get your backpack" you whimpered at his tone which was still as harsh as ever.
He was still very much upset.
"Y- Yes, Daddy" lifting your body off his and onto your feet, you couldn't help but lower your head in shame as you waddled away while biting your lip to hold back your sniffles.
Grabbing the carelessly discarded backpack from a corner of your room, you rubbed your stinging eyes as you walked back to your giant of a man, your shoulders trembling into a shake as you tried to breathe and were forced into a hiccup instead.
Ari didn't take it from you when you held it out to him, as not per usual. "Take out a practice notebook and a pencil" oh, fucking shit. Your eyes welled up with tears again when he refused to acknowledge your puppy dog eyes, instead crossing his huge arms over his broad chest and raising an eyebrow at you, "well?"
You opened your mouth to try and plead your case but his unimpressed expression made you close your mouth momentarily before finally uttering out a quiet, "Y- Yes, Daddy."
You were not graced with a good girl today. Instead, your boyfriend rested his back against the couch and watched you squirm under his dark, intense gaze while carrying out the order. As your hands shakily fiddled with the zippers of the bag, you contemplated whether to whine and pout your way into getting him to melt. But then a bitter flashback of the image Ransom had posted heated your cheeks and you couldn't help but lower your head in complete defeat.
When you had finally fished out the items he had asked for in the most awkward and downright pathetic manner -as you dropped multiple things a couple times before fulfilling the seemingly basic task-, you nervously shifted your weight onto one foot, silently holding the items out to him again.
Usually, he made the makeshift quiz paper himself.
But.
Ari was not in the mood to pamper you in any way. Well, that's what you got for vehemently lying to him all day yesterday when he was being so loving and sweet. He had even offered to come over and go to sleep together all cuddled up. To which you had made some half-assed lame excuse.
Your boyfriend's next orders were to open a new page and jot down a question which basically asked for a summary of all the academic tasks he had planned for you yesterday. You gulped to yourself as you pondered whether to confess or pretend to solve the contents that you didn't even bother to look over let alone study.
In your humble opinion, only geeks studied during the weekends.
But one look at Ari's face and you knew your only option was the latter. Because you could not take disappointing him yet again so soon.
Though deep down you knew it was inevitable after what you had done.
So, off you went pretending to write into the page while trying to hide it from him, desperately raking your mind for any information similar to the keywords. Except you forgot that you could never win against your boyfriend who was now reaching for your elbow. Your whine turned into a grunt when your throbbing butt cheeks were not only lowered to make you sit on his lap so he could look at what you were doing, but the material of his clothes grazed against your sensitive skin. And then his fat tip prodded against your swollen pussy.
You weren't allowed any time to adjust -not that you needed any, courtesy of his cruel punishment- before you were lowered all the way down on his angry red leaking cock. Despite your attempts to be as quiet as possible to keep his annoyance in check as much as could be managed at this point, you cried out at the intrusion.
Your boyfriend was way too big for you not to.
The skin of your impaler was hot and rigid, erect in long and thick cable-like patterns in certain places, the top grazing against your most sensitive part and causing the formation of neon stars in your vision while the even thicker base violated your intimate part like it was meant to be treated that way. Your heartbeat was in your ears.
"Well?" Ari's taunt was nearly breathless. "What are you waiting for?" Right. His beard tickled your arm as his cheek pressed against it to have a better look at your nonexistent work. "Go ahead."
You had gotten so carried away by the much needed penetration, that you had momentarily forgotten about the object of your doom that stared up at your hot face blankly from its position in your hands. Though as you went to begin your little game of pretend for just until you could ride his dick -or just rub against it- into relieving the ache between your legs, your boyfriend's heavy arms wrapped around your waist and restricted any and all movement, his warm chest pressing into your back.
Your mouth fell open when you felt Ari press your stomach inwards against his cock, its ridge pressing up into you with the full intent of now intruding you even deeper. His throaty chuckle spent vibrations up your pussy and spine alike from where he connected with you.
"You seriously didn't think it was gonna be that easy, did you, little girl?" Your lips wobbled into a pout as you whined softly, feeling sweat break out on your skin as you struggled to write, then erase, scribble a meaningless half sentence and then rub it clean with the eraser once more.
When you didn't respond and instead took your frustration out on the poor paper that was yet to see something substantial, Ari threw his head back and gave a loud laugh. The action caused formation of another series of cruel reverberations that were still not the required friction but enough to edge you on and you cried out in exasperation, crossing a word out this time because your patience had had it with the eraser though the force you used to do so caused the nib to break.
"Huh, you did think it was gonna be that easy!" You resisted the urge to fling the notebook across the room, instead half turning to whimper at him in a pleading manner.
"P- Please, Daddy…" His blue eyes ignored your glassy ones and instead traveled to the notebook in your hand.
"Hm, let's see what we have here so far…" Unwrapping one arm to hold the bunch of binded papers that was dangling from your hands at this point, Ari hummed. "Nothing, how surprising" you didn't think it possible for him to sound any more disappointed than he had already done but here you were.
"Daddy, I am sorry!" Your frustrated whine was loud enough for him to finally look at you and that with a challenging twinkle in his eye. "I- I mean…" Biting your lip, you couldn't help but lower your head, unable to hold his gaze in these kinds of situations. Ari Levinson was an intimidating man, boyfriend or not. "I- I am sorry that I broke almost all the rules–"
"Almost?" You bit your tongue and tried to reach for his hand but were denied the pleasure.
"Sorry, sir…" Taking a deep breath to calm yourself and try to clear your clouded head, you continued. "I am sorry that I b- broke all my rules yesterday" his silence and lack of movement signaled that your offense required more rectification than this. "I am sorry for not being honest and l- lying about everything that I did wrong and– ah~" a sensual whine forced itself out of your throat when his cock suddenly twitched between your walls.
"Go on" maybe he was liking this. Perhaps this was the way.
It had to be.
You had fucked up enough for a month and redemption was a vital need.
"A- And…" Your heart rate picked up even more. "I am s- sorry for not listening to you about Ra-" your heart jumped when his body tensed and you had to recompose yourself before continuing. "... About R- Ransom. You were r- right and I should have trusted your word because Daddy always means well…" You could make out his growing smirk from your peripheral.
"Oh, is that so?" You whined.
"I am sorry, please! I get it! I will never question your word ever again, I promise!" Because that was what this was about, the extra cruelty anyways. "J- Just please…" Your opening was so sore.
It was crazy how good he was at holding himself back.
You were too impatient for edging.
"Please, what?"
"Please use me, Daddy…" You dared to peak up at him through your lashes. "N- Need you so bad…"
"But big girls don't need Daddies" you could scream out at this point.
"I am not big, Daddy! I promise!" Your voice finally broke and tears came flowing down in frustration, his arm still not allowing your hips any movement. "I… D- Daddy's dumb little baby… dunno anything…" Leaning closer to him, you were glad to finally be allowed his hand when you reached out for it yet again. "N- Need him t- to think for me… and take c- care of me…"
Ari sighed and stayed quiet for a few moments before speaking, hopefully contemplating whether you had suffered enough or not.
Preferably the former.
And then. "Because you can't do it on your own?" You shook your head eagerly. "Because you're such a silly little baby that your useless mind needs Daddy to make all the decisions?" Oh, yes.
"Y- Yes, Daddy. B- Baby is too stupid to know w- what's good for her" your pussy clenched around him at your own words, causing his eyes to darken.
Ari nodded in agreement. "That's right. Nothing without your old man, are you?" Oh, God. You clenched again at his words and hummed in agreement, unable to form any words this time around and ducking your head down to press your lips to his neck submissively. "You need me, don't you, little girl? To make even the simplest of decisions for you" the notebook and pencil were taken from you before being discarded on the couch. "Tell you when you need to eat, sleep, wake up, go potty, study…" He moved effortlessly with you still clamped on his cock, moving you both down against the coffee table, you on your hands and knees as he straddled you from behind. "Who to speak to, who to stay away from, where to go" your eyes fluttered close as you felt him move inside you, humming along his words. "What to do at what time…" With one firm hand on your hip, Ari gathered your hair into the free one. "When to breathe…" He whispered once he had pulled you closer by your hair, holding your throat with his free hand.
You gulped and clenched around him again, eyes rolling up momentarily. "P- Please, Daddy~" you squeaked out helplessly.
"What do you want, baby?" The male still refused to move. "Use your words for Daddy."
"N- Need you, Daddy" you tried to rock yourself against him but the attempt was in vain. "Please, Daddy. Need you so bad!"
"And how do you need me, baby?" You groaned when he curved your body with the grip he had on your hair even more, causing your body to jut outwards and his dick to change position.
"Every way, Daddy!" You were on the verge of breaking out into sobs again. "Please, Daddy! Please, use me!" You reached behind to tap and feel for his arm, your fingers curling around it when you found it. "Any way you want, Daddy! Please, please, use me! Need you so bad…" As you squeezed his wrist you realized that anything would do at this point.
You just needed him to fuck into you regardless of the position.
You would cum wet or dry all the same.
"Any way I want, huh?" His hand let go of your throat to reach for your tits as his chest draped over your sweaty back. You could only nod out with a whine, nether regions in extreme need of relief. "What about… dirty little baby slut getting fucked like the little cockwore that she is for her Daddy?" Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when he finally moved his hips, causing you to whimper out loud, arms trembling as the upper half of your body threatened to give out against the cold floor. "Being reminded of her little place?" You groaned aloud in agreement, moving your head back until it was pressing into the crook of his neck, back arching when he twisted one of your nipples.
"Yes, please~" you breathlessly whimpered, feeling your knees shake when a loud plop sound resonated against the wooden floorboards behind you as Ari's thrusts gained some speed, your hot slick hanging and thumping out of your weeping pussy and onto the ground.
"How she can't even– shut up" your head lolled to the side when your boyfriend tugged at your scalp with the grip he had on your hair to turn your face sideways. "Shut the fuck up. Not one word. You have had more than enough undeserved speaking privileges for a few weeks. Now Daddy will speak and you will only listen like the dumb little slut that you are" you pursed your lips tightly shut to hold yourself back from accidentally disobeying him. A harsh slap was addressed to your neglected boob. "Is that clear?" You jumped and gasped, the movement causing his tip to pound against your sensitive bundle of nerves. "Nod if you understand" you cried out in response to how your nipple was pulled.
Fighting the urge to verbally respond, you hurriedly nodded and bit your lip in anticipation.
"Tsk, would you look at this stupid little baby…" Ari's voice was gravelly as he tutted at you, increasing the pace of his thrusts to his typical slut pounding rhythm now from the previous one which was more of a smooth, velvety intrusion that was sometimes for torture and sometimes to get you to adjust. "Can't even fuckin' breathe without my permission" his hand followed his words and enclosed around the shape of your neck again. "But tries to act all big and independent in front of her silly little friends, tsk" the sound of skin slapping against skin was getting louder by the second, your delayed orgasm quickly rebuilding itself through the pressure and haze Ari's denials had caused your insides.
"S- Sorry, Daddy!" Your knees were literally squeaking against the floorboards at this point and you just knew that you were gonna be very sore everywhere tomorrow.
"I told you to shut up" his rhythm changed to long and hard penalizing jabs as he pulled your collapsing body back up by your hair and sat up on his knees, now fucking up your tight cavern. "Stupid little baby slut" Ari's grip on your throat disappeared for a few seconds to land a slap on your wet cheeks. You hadn't even noticed that you had started crying from the intensity of it all. "Can't even carry out basic tasks" now your other cheek was made to share the same heat as your body bounced all the way to his ridge only to come gliding all the way down and onto his heavy ballsack with loud squelches. Though it was all happening so fast you could barely keep up or comprehend it.
"Stop with that mouth breathing" your nails dug into the skin of the arm he was using to suspend your head upwards, the other set pressing into the palm he wrapped around your throat now. "Disobedient little whores like you don't deserve that" and then he finally squeezed, restricting you of what little way of coping you had been clinging on to deal with this prostate shattering pounding. "Think you deserve to breathe after what you've done?" His words were nearly venomous.
Though this much cruel final loss of autonomy caused the hundreds of knots that had formed in your abdomen to finally explode and your loins boiled over. Your tense body fell limp against his and color drained out of your face, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you clenched around his cock and milked it subconsciously.
Ari was breathless himself as he clicked his tongue in disapproval. "Did I say you could cum?" He let go of your throat when you began to lose consciousness and forced you back to the present. "Tsk, only you would dare to cum when you weren't even allowed to speak" but then how were you supposed to ask? That was just it.
This was why you did not piss Ari Levinson off.
Now he moved your upper half onto the floor and laid your head against it so your cheek pressed against the cold wooden boards as you numbly blinked out the stars in your vision, feet cold and mind too fucked out to process anything. Your ears were ringing so you could barely make out any of his insults and heart was thumping with such heaviness in quick intervals that you could feel it against the skin of your chest. Although only faintly.
Ari widened your thighs and lifted them off the floor to position himself even better against you. So you were nothing but an actual fuck doll for him to use. But before he began the ultimate battering of your hot and wet walls that had relaxed by now, Ari moved one of his legs out and reached for your head with his foot to both lock you in place as well as to reach you the deepest he could.
A shiver escaped you when you felt his heavy foot place against the side of your head and push your cheek deeper into the ground. Then one of his hands gathered both your arms into it and bundled them on your lower back. Last was his free hand which smacked both your cheeks before he grabbed a handful of one your hips.
And then the pummelling began. Your body slid, slipped, collapsed, nearly gave out and faded into unconsciousness multiple times as Ari fucked you so hard that both the sound and smell of raw flesh colliding filled the entire room until nothing else remained.
It was all so much that your mind gave up trying to comprehend it. The only thing you could decipher now was Daddy; inside, outside, under and above. And though Ari had fucked you probably beyond dumbness at this point, you felt your body -that was working independent of your mind now- curve when your pussy clenched again and you got wetter, hitting another orgasm when your boyfriend's hot seed exploded into your cavern and overflowed the narrow space.
"Look at you, baby." Ari panted as he pounded his orgasm out into you, his animalistic thrusts causing little droplets of both your cum to fly everywhere. "You look so perfect in your slutty little habitat. So completely fucked out under Daddy's foot, barely conscious yet inviting all the same." It took him a few moments to slow down and finally stop.
Though when he finally did, he reached for his phone and turned his camera on to record pulling his monstrous girth out of your battered pussy, snorting at the sight of your pucker winking at him defensively as your pussy dripped of his seed, the abused hole gaping open submissively.
"Tsk, tsk. What a slutty little baby I have here" Ari tutted as he watched you through the camera, squeezing your bruised ass before landing a harsh slap on it and causing both the cheeks to jiggle as well as some of his cum to plop down onto the floor. "Making all this mess on the floor like a dumb little slut who has no control over her body…" Now he moved the lens towards you and zoomed in on your face, pushing your face into frame with his foot. "Do you have any control over your body, baby?" When you just blinked up at the camera, he snorted. "You may use your words now, come on."
"... N- No, Daddy…" You croaked out softly.
"Who does?"
"Y- You do, s- sir…" Ari's smile was finally one of pure satisfaction.
"That's fuckin' right" another smack was addressed to your ass. "And you better fuckin' remember that next time you want to be a sneaky little disobedient lying brat" you could only nod submissively as you stared into the camera, feeling him move away before he pulled you up by your hair and sat you on your knees to face the camera properly.
"I- I will, Daddy. Th- Thank you." You wanted to look down and not at the camera but you did not want to take any chances.
You were so close.
"Hm," Ari caressed your cheek with the back of his hand before softly moving your hair out of your face. "Maybe I should post this on the campus forum, huh? Since you like being a little social media star so much, huh baby?" Your boyfriend cupped the side of your face now and wiped away your drying tears with the pads of his thumbs. "Would you like that? Everyone seeing how good you can be for Daddy?"
There was only one answer to that question. "W- Whatever you think is best, Daddy" your voice was hoarse as you looked up at him from the camera now, moving your face sideways to kiss the hand that was caressing you.
"There's my girl" a condescending pat was given to your cheek before Ari cut the video off and stood to his feet to fix up himself before putting his phone away. "You're coming with me. I've had enough of this silly cat and mouse chase." The edge of his tone made you whimper.
"Yes, Daddy."
Ari hummed before bending down to hold his arms out for you. "Now come here" your bottom lip wobbled as you used whatever little strength you had left and flung yourself in his direction with grabby hands that he easily caught and lifted you like the baby you were with little to no effort.
"I am s- so sorry, Daddy" you wrapped your limbs around him and whimpered into his soft hair gratefully, resting your tired head on his broad shoulder. "Really am."
"I know, baby. You took your punishment well, I am proud of you." His ticklish kiss was tender against your sweaty temple as he slung your now packed bag over his other shoulder and made his way to your room to pack your other things. "Rest that pretty little head now, Daddy's got you." Before he pushed one of your pacis in your mouth: a shiny yellow one shaped like a duck, and tucked your favorite candy doll under the arm you held out for it with a barely audible whine.
The party girl was gone and only the little girl remained, enveloped in her Daddy's loving hold as she drifted off to sleep.
Tag List 🩷; @goodkittyspost @loklaufeysonssgodess @emerald-writes @milknhonies @teen-wolfsydia @identity2212 @i-heart-anne-b00nchoy @hazycottagedreams @lokislady82 (can't tag you lovelies :()
#ari levinson#ari levinson smut#ari levinson x y/n#ari levinson imagine#ari levinson x reader#ari levinson x female reader#ari levison x reader#ari levinson x you#ari levinson x black!reader#chris evans#chris evans characters#chris evans character fanfiction#chris evans character x reader#chris evans smut#ari levinson one shot#chris evans fanfiction#chris evans imagines#chris evans x smut#chris evans x you#chris evans x female reader#chris evans x reader#chris evans x y/n#ari levinson angst#chris evans imagine
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i’m with the band.
pairing(s): lando norris x singer!reader
warnings: v slightly angsty? but happy ending.
summary: pop band CHANGE! has just released their anticipated third album; however, fans notice that the songs seem to tell an unsavory story….
author's note: i didn’t know whether u wanted me to do a happy song or sad but i like drama. i refer to y/n’s bandmates by their roles. so guitarist, bassist and drummer so you can add their names in! also this album is loosely based on SAWAYAMA and 5sos’s album youngblood. listen to them both if u haven’t!! incredible albums. if you can name all these songs that have been mentioned then MWAH!!! 😍
liked by harrystyles, landonorris and 3,388,728 others.
changeband: thank you so much to the best, coolest and awesomest fans in the fucking planet. shoutout to everyone who showed up to our listening party in philly last week! you were metal as hell and we loved meeting everyone of you. no more fomo for the rest of you all now that our newest album is now out! please stream and buy and recommend to your friends and family and colleagues and even that annoying neighbour that everyone hates. we love you and we love this album!! here are some behind the scenes pics of us making and brainstorming this baby!
user1: this album is sooo good!
user2: ooh y/n got her masters in cuntology with a concentration in motherlogical studies from the university of servington… that NOTE in dynasty??? oh goddddd.
-> user4: DYNAAAASSSSTTTTYYYY 🗣️🔊
user3: the casual photo dump like they haven’t released the album of the CENTURY?
user8: you guys have come such a far way from working minimum wage and having to pool money for a recording booth omg. i’m so proud of you guys 🥺
*liked by changeband.*
user5: the way guitarist is eating this album. whoever greenlit her guitar solos i want to kiss them on the mouth.
user28: bad friend is my fav! both the acoustic vers and the normal vers!! PUT UR HANDS UP IF UR NOT GOOD AT THIS STUFF!!!! 😍😍
liked by messyass1, messyass2 and 278,727 others.
ham1ltonshaderoom: girl band CHANGE! have released their new album ‘babylon’ and it has sent twitter in flames after the first tweet (pictured above) went viral. especially after the songs ‘lie to me’ and ‘want u back’ both contain lyrics that have sent fans of the power couple lando norris and y/n l/n spiralling. what do you all think of the drama ham1ltons?
user1: i do think it’s slightly suspicious… not necessarily a break up confirmation but it’s interesting. especially as she didn’t even bother to confirm or deny whether or not they’re still together on jimmy fallon….
user2: why do we speculate into these celebs lives? if they broke up, who cares and if they’re together… who cares?
hater1: who gives a fuck. she can’t even sing.
-> user3: you clearly gaf if you’re commenting under y/n related posts???
loveislanduk: don’t worry y/n! if need be, you can always find a new man on the island!
-> user98: messy asf 😭
user6: is tkl supposed to be y/n talking about how lando was super adored and that although he could have any girl, she’d be the only one who really loved him?
-> user4: tokyo love hotel is a homage to drummer’s japanese heritage not a lando worship song?? also it’s a metaphor for their heritages as three of them are women of colour who grew up in the west and saw their cultures exoticised.
-> user6: ‘yeah your fascination is my world’. that could be interpreted as her saying ‘your obsession is my boyfriend’.
-> user4: girl yeah but that’d be a lazy one would it not? lando ain’t that special 😭 i think that it’s reductionist to make everything she writes about a man and not her.
user44: calling the album babylon after the bible story? maybe they started with the idea of creating this amazing relationship and then grew apart? they stopped speaking each other’s language?
-> user56: maybe you need to put this energy into analysing your resume and figuring out why you’re still unemployed….
user65: idc if she broke up with that troll because that’d mean drummery/n will thrive!!
-> user9: um… u mean guitaristy/n??
-> user34: both wrong. bassisty/n is the best version!!!
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CHANGE’S INTERVIEW W/ JIMMY FALLON (transcript)
JIMMY FALLON: welcome, everyone! we have a special treat for you tonight. please give it up for the current leaders of the world charts, the incredible band CHANGE!"
(audience applause as the girls take their seats)
FALLON: alright, alright! now, there have been some rumours swirling around about your latest album and its connection to some personal matters. especially in regards to y/n. care to shed some light on that?
Y/N: well, jimmy, first of all, thank you for having us. i’m aware that there have been some rumours, but you know how it is. people love to speculate. our music is definitely personal, and yeah, it does reflect some of what's been going on in my life but i want to set the record straight. the songs on our album are inspired by a variety of our experiences, including relationships, but they're not always directly about any specific individuals. sometimes i’m inspired by other forms of media or my loved ones’ experiences. that’s the joy of making art, it can be whatever you want.
DRUMMER: yeah, and y/n is such a talented songwriter. she has this incredible ability to channel her emotions into our music and make you feel whatever she wants.
BASSIST: exactly. we're just here to make music that connects with people, and if our songs happen to resonate with someone going through a breakup? then we've done our job.
FALLON: is it true that you’re performing two songs for us tonight? can you confirm which ones?
GUITARIST: yes! we’re performing ‘want u back’ and ‘frankenstein’. both of our newest singles from babylon.
FALLON: well, you heard them, folks! get ready for an amazing performance from CHANGE!
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liked by bassist, guitarist and 1,272,973 others.
yourusername: we’re fine y’all perfectly fine please don’t call paw patrol.
user1: OH THANK GOD.
landonorris: she’s lying. i’m in my lemonade era…🍋
-> user23: you wish you could be that iconic. you’re in your dogwater era.
-> landonorris: UNPROVOKED???
user3: we needed this confirmation.
user8: PARENTS AREN’T DIVORCED WE WON 🙌
landonorris: now can you release the bonus tracks please please please 🙏🏼 ‼️😩
-> bassist: no :)
-> guitarist: yes :)
-> drummer: one of them is lying… guess who and i’ll send the whole album plus excluded tracks.
-> landonorris: … um 😅 guitarist?
-> drummer: WRONG ‼️ but i’m scared you’re gonna complain to y/n so i’ll send them over to you 🙄
user27: at least we’re back to having lando being CHANGE!’s biggest fans. what did he think of ‘exile’?
-> yourusername: he cried so hard he threw up.
-> user27: real shit.
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taglist: @cuteskz @molten-m122 @dangeroustacoalienbiscuit @booksandflowrs @mxdi0 @k1arsworld @alexmarie29 @luckyladycreator2 @23victoria (let me know via ask if you’d like to be removed).
wanna get tagged in any future works? sign up for my taglist!
#jayde’s works ☆#formula one x reader#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 smau#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris imagine#lando x reader#lando norris#ln4 x y/n#ln4 imagine#ln4 fic#ln4 x reader#ln4#f1 texts#f1 fanfic#formula one imagine#formula one smau
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Can u do g!p doctor minji x reader fucking in her office making her cockdrunk and they do it many times?
I know you're busy rn so don't worry just take your time🥹 thank you I advance!! ♡
You can’t miss a Doctors appointment!
Pairings: G!p Minji x fem reader!
Warnings: BREEDING, unprotected sex (don’t be silly wrap your Willy), not proofread, p in v, mention of pregnancy, overstimulation, creampie, big dick, a little bit of manipulation, pantie stealing and just Filthy smut!!
Jwans Note: I’m not really satisfied with how this turned out but hope you enjoy!!😔🥲
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Meet Minji, a newly graduated doctor who had just landed her dream job at one of the world's most prestigious hospitals. Her hard work and dedication had paid off, and her parents couldn't have been prouder. They beamed with pride whenever they spoke of their daughter's remarkable achievements, and her success became the talk of the neighborhood. Her family had always known that Minji was destined for greatness, and now, she had proved them right. With her exceptional skills and a heart full of compassion, she was ready to take on the world and make a positive impact on the lives of others.
She basically was every medical students goal, they all wanted to be like her one day.
It was no surprise that the hospital gave her a private office. Soon, patients started pouring in and the day was filled with treating and helping them.
But there was this one patient that stuck to the back of her mind and didn’t seem to leave. You came to her office one day for a yearly check, and your results were above great but from the first time she laid her eyes on you, she knew she had to have you.
She made little “changes” to your file, perhaps a little sabotage so you could visit her office more often. It was all with a good intention, she thought.
You were waiting outside in her waiting room. This is the third time you have been here, for an unknown reason. She told you that she has to make more checks and she needed to make sure that everything is alright, but you still don’t understand what she wants? Every time you asked her is there something bothering your health, she didn’t give a straight answer, just shrugging it off and mumbling incoherent stuff.
“Miss y/n, come inside!” The secretary behind the counter told you. You quickly took your stuff and left for Minjis office.
Once she saw you enter her office she flashed you her signature warm smile, that seemed to leave every patient with heart eyes.
That happened to you when you first came to her office but as the time passed, those heart eyes slowly started fading.
You placed your coat on the hanger and sat down on the chair in front of her desk, the last thing you wanted to seem was rude so you returned a smile, a nervous one.
“Hi miss y/n! How have you been?” She questioned seeming really interested.
“I have been well myself, so is there something bothering my health?” you chuckled nervously, raising an brow afterwards.
She stood up and guided you to the examination bed, making you lay on it. Your breathing was unreasonably heavy and low. Your hands on your sides, while she was wearing her gloves.
“If that’s okay with you, could you take your clothes off?” She looked at you from the corner of her eyes before turning fully to look down at you.
You gulped nervously never have a doctor asked you anything like this but at the end of the day she is a doctor she must know what she is doing…😮💨🫣
You slid down your jeans before pulling your shirt over your head, handing it to her. She looked at you like she still was waiting for something, and that’s when you realized what she indicated.
Without much thought you just decided to make her life easier and just take your panties off, and so you did. She had her hand out to you when you took off your panties while a smirk across her face, you gave it to her even tho a crimson colored layer was over your cheeks. You didn’t miss how she stuffed your panties in her pocket.
At first everything was so normal, doing normal doctor check ups, and the doctor stuff that everyone have been through.
But not long after her hands started roaming around your form, her hands slowly reaching and nearing your core and you couldn’t help but let out a whimper when her fingers touched your embarrassingly wet pussy.
What could you do? You couldn’t deny that doctor Minji was hot, insanely hot! And you couldn’t deny how every night after meeting her, your fingers couldn’t satisfy you anymore. She wasn’t the only one desperate and hungry for you, you were for her too!
She smirked at the sound leaving your lips her finger pad teasing your walls reasoning for more breathy whimpers to fall past your lips. You were soaking her fingers and the examination bed already having a wet patch on it.
She undressed her white coat and slid her slacks down, exposing her deprived cock. Looking at the erection it seemed heavy and her red-ish tip leaking white salty substance.
You rubbed your thighs together at the sight a whine making it way out of your lips. She climbed on the examination bed and aligned her cock with your velvety walls. Before completely pushing in, her cock stretching your hymen, making you feel like at any moment you’d bleed. But the feeling was pleasurable nonetheless.
The waiting of months finally have paid off and she finally got to bury her cock deep in you. The bed rocking back and forth due to her ruthless thrust, making you feel that her cock was in your womb, hitting spots you didn’t know existed.
You were holding her shoulders for dear life, your nails sinking deep into her flesh, your knuckles turning white due to your grip.
Her Head buried into the crook of your neck, giving kitty licks onto your invisible Adam apple and sucking on the flesh, purple marks filling your, she could taste the chemical taste of your perfume and that only made her mind numb and intoxicated with the whole moment.
Both of you letting out the deepest sounds and whimpers, without warning her seed flew deep into you, straight onto your womb. The chances of you getting pregnant by her sent you over the edge, your own liquid pushing out her creamy substance.
“G’na get you pregnant baby, y-you could come Check in my office every day!” She whispered near your ear, shivers running down your spine.
She furrowed her brows, your own juices pushing her cum was making her annoyed, and without realizing it wasn’t long till her cock was again deep inside you. Your pussy tightening and clenching uncontrollably around her while overstimulation hitting you hard, a choked gasp came from you.
The pain and abuse of her cock making your eyes water. Tears sliding down your cheeks, it was replaced by mind blowing pleasure once again, your previous orgasm making the knot in your stomach snap, and fresh round of your juices tried to push her cock out but failed since the ramming of her cock was deep and rough, making your legs give up and your body laying limp.
She let out a growl before her balls shot new layer of cum into your abused hole, a satisfied sigh came from her.
She pulled out slowly trying not to overstimulate you more, and she saw how her cum gushed out. Her finger smeared her liquid before pushing it back in deeper. She kissed your puffy tear stained cheeks and caressed your closed lids softly.
She cleaned you up in the bathroom connected with her office and declined all of the appointments of the day.
#kim minji smut#minji smut#new jeans minji x reader#new jeans minji smut#minji new jeans#kim minji x fem reader#kim minji x female reader#kim minji x reader smut#kim minji x reader#minji x fem reader#minji x reader#minji x reader smut#new jeans smut#new jeans minji#kim minji fluff
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World Cup V
Hardersson x Daughter!Reader
Part of The Big Adventures Universe
Summary: Your first World Cup
Everyone dreams of scoring a goal in the World Cup final. Hell, everyone dreams of scoring in even the qualifying rounds for the World Cup.
But, to you, it was almost certainly going to be a dream.
You were goalkeeper. You didn't score goals. You stopped them.
It was your whole job.
Your first World Cup was an honour. You were still young but it had been timed perfectly. When you were first called up to join Sweden's team, it was as the third keeper.
The two keepers before you had retired just before the selection for the World Cup squad. Two new keepers for the squad (both older than you) had been selected but you were the number one - a combination of your talent, training and just how many more international caps you had over your counterparts.
Coach Emma had been wary about putting you as the first choice but your performances at Arsenal spoke for themselves. There wasn't much she could do. No one else seemed to quite fit the bill like you did.
It had been a hard won road with two rounds of penalties in the knockout stage that you refused to be cowed by.
It all came down to this.
Sweden vs England.
You recognised a few of the girls from playing in the WSL and you gave them each a tense smile as you run through warmups. You sit in your cubby during the last team talk where Emma speaks about the game plan and how much work this will be and how much everyone needs to give it their all. You put on Zećira's old World Cup gloves. You flex your hands before clenching.
You replace her's with your own and roll your shoulders.
You walk out to the cheers of the crowd and take your position.
England are out with a vengeance and you make a few daring saves in the first half but it's mainly Sweden who dominate possession.
You're deadlocked in nil-nil throughout the first half and then the second half.
You leak into nine minutes of injury when one of your midfielders is dispossessed. You can hear Coach Emma yelling something at your defenders but you don't look to see the disarray of your backline. An England kit comes streaking up your left wing. She shoots but you're not worried because you already know that she has a tendency to shoot wide.
You collect the ball for a goal kick and one of England's finest starts a run towards you, to put on the pressure.
You could think of nothing but making sure this forward didn't get anywhere near your box or your ball.
You booted it up the pitch.
To be honest, it was an accident.
It hadn't been you trying anything. All you could think about was making sure England didn't even have a chance to score a goal.
You assumed one of your forwards would pick it up - some of them had this uncanny ability to know what you would do before you did.
Either way, you watched the ball sail over everyone's head...
The keeper was about as far off her line as she could be.
It sailed over her head, bounced and rolled into the bottom right corner.
You freeze in shock.
You hadn't meant to do that.
The crowd behind you screamed and you didn't have time to think before you were completely dogpiled by your teammates.
"Get off!" You laugh, trying to shake them off.
"There's no chance now!" Someone says.
"Keep them away from my goal and then there will be no chance," You reply, still completely trapped.
"Which goals is yours again?" Someone else teases," Because I think you've staked a thorough claim on England's too."
Your cheeks flush red and you bat her away. "Shut up."
"Never!" Someone declares," I'm pretty sure our goalkeeper just won us the game! You're never hearing the end of this!"
"Go away," You laugh," Go on. We've still got a few more minutes to play. Keep them off my goal and I'll let you talk about it all you want."
And they do keep England off your goal.
You sink to your knees in shock as you're dogpiled again. Swedish is flowing easily into your ears but you can't understand any of it. You slowly get to your feet and walk strangely calmly over to the stands.
You pass Coach Emma on the way. She's smiling, clapping you on the back. You think she says something too but you're too busy listening to the roaring of blood in your ears.
You hop the barrier and move into Momma's arms.
She holds you nice and tight as you still stare in shock. You think you're crying but you're numb to most things.
Momma's talking but her words are just static in your ears as you're moved from her to Morsa to moster Frido and then finally to Zećira.
You come back into the present when you see her. Shakily, you remove your gloves and hold them out to her.
She smiles and takes them. "I'm so proud of you. Best keeper in the world."
More tears slip down your cheeks. Your voice breaks. "Thank you."
"So proud of you," Morsa says as she and Momma appear over your shoulders," Clearly you're just like your Momma. Scoring goals."
"Is was an accident," You say softly.
"And it was a perfect accident," Momma says," I couldn't have done it better myself."
You laugh a little wetly. "Well," You say," I must have picked it up from all those times you kicked at me in the garden."
"Champion of the world!" Moster Frido declares, clapping you on the back and planting a kiss on your head," World Champion! Best keeper in the world!"
"Well," Momma says," This keeper needs to head back down to receive her medal. Go on, off you go." She pushes you away lightly.
You hop the barrier again and line up with the others.
There's a sense of pride as you walk across the stage, receive your medal and kiss the trophy.
You feel a little shaky as the trophy is lifted and you celebrate, screaming out your victory for the whole world to see.
You jump around with your teammates, each of them strongarming you into taking a picture with you and the trophy.
By the time you manage to get away, you're jogging over to the England side. You strip your shirt and hold it up into the crowd.
A hand reaches down to take it.
You look up.
Leah stares down at you. She leans over the railing.
"I should be mad at you," She says," But that was the best goal I've seen in a while. I'm very proud of you. Are you sure I can't convince you to stay?"
You look down bashfully and confess," I think Arsenal's getting a bit too small for me."
Leah laughs. "Yeah, I reckon that too." She pulls your shirt over her head. "You'll come back and visit?"
You bump your fist against hers. "Well, North London is red."
She grins at you. "Go on, World Cup winner. Off you go. I'll see you around."
"Bye, Leah."
You jog towards the Sweden side of the crowd again, pumping up your fist as people scream your name.
You skid to a stop in front of Morsa. You drop your medal over her neck.
"For you," You say," For all the World Cup medals you gave me."
#woso x reader#hardersson x reader#pernille harder x reader#pernille harder#magdalena eriksson x reader#magdalena eriksson#woso community#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso#The Big Adventures Universe
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Ahhhh I need more hockey!harry 😍 I need a whole back story to how they met, when he started teasing her and for what reason and how they end up together. It’s soo good, I especially loved the jealous blurb, I need more! ❤️
ahhhhh thank you cutie!!! here's a blurb on how they met and got to where they are now
also tysm to cutie @harrysonlylover for this collage!!!! this v much represents their relationship <3
word count: 1.3k
content warnings: none!
masterlist | talk to me
hockey h x ballerina!yn masterlist
patreon
. . .
Things between Harry and Y/N weren’t always like this.
In fact, maybe in another world, they would’ve been friends. Even lovers, perhaps, but that may be pushing the envelope just a tad. They’re both third years, which means they started at the university at the same time. They attended all of those silly orientation meetings and events alongside one another (and few hundred others) that are designed to make incoming freshmen feel more comfortable, but in reality, just make things awkward and cringy.
(Harry remembers visibly recoiling when he was told to come up with a fun fact, and they weren’t allowed to say anything about their majors or primary sports.)
(He ended up going with the fact that he was born in London, which their orientation leader, Lisa, was far too interested in — an annoying amount, really. He thinks she tried getting with him at the bonfire that evening, but Harry was so exhausted he couldn’t even be bothered to pretend like he knew what she was getting at.)
But Y/N was in his orientation group, actually. Years later, he still remembers how strong her legs looked in her shorts and the way she tied her hair up with a velvet scrunchie (it was in the middle of July, and the heat was sweltering, sunrays pelting them straight into their backs and necks). He doesn’t recall what her fun fact was, but he does know that they were paired up for some dumb icebreaker activity. In an effort to get them better familiar with the campus, they had to do a scavenger hunt which, to Harry, felt like cruel and unusual punishment considering the rapidly increasing temperature. They were instructed to fill up their free, university-sponsored water bottles and get to work, returning back to the post before 5 pm, where they’d be having some sort of barbecue situation.
At first, Harry thinks she’s shy. Well, she is — she’s quiet and doesn’t say much besides a soft “thank you” when he offers to run her water bottle over to the refill station. She’s focused on the task at hand, though he can both tell that they would rather poke their own eyes out than do it.
“Let’s take a break,” Harry decides, not 20 minutes in. It’s mainly because his eyes zero in on a shady area on the quad, a semblance of shade offered by a large oak tree. Y/N, exhausted herself, doesn’t fight him.
She sits cross-legged in the grass, her posture near impeccable as Harry lays down, fixing his sunglasses into his curly hair.
“Have you decided on a major yet?” Harry asks, desperate for some sort of small talk — normally, he doesn’t care for niceties, but the near-silence between them is killing him, considering how hot and bored he is.
“I have a ballet scholarship.” she answers simply.
“That’s cool,” he nods, though he doesn’t know a single thing about it, “I didn’t know this school was big on ballet.”
He notices the way she wrinkles her nose, eyes squinting slightly.
“It’s one of the top dance schools in the country, only behind performing arts universities.”
“Oh. Nice.”
Y/N attempts to shake away his ignorance, head cocking to look down at the male laying at her side. “And you? What are you majoring in?”
And Harry doesn’t really mean it, but it comes out without him even realizing it. It’s just— no one’s asked him that in years, but only because where he’s from, everybody knows he was the top hockey player in the city, number five in the state. Nobody ever expected Harry to go to school to study anything because it was always known that he’d go for hockey.
So, he snorts. He actually, physically snorts, and the look of apparent disgust is immediately clear on Y/N’s face. Parting his lips, he instantly wishes he can take it back, especially when she straightens her posture to sit up a bit higher.
“I’m sorry, I— I’m here for hockey,” Harry flounders, sitting up on his elbows. “I have a hockey scholarship.”
“And was I supposed to know that?” Y/N fires back with narrowed eyes. He shakes his head.
“No, of course not.”
“Right,” she says, standing from the shady oasis and brushing her hands over her bum to get any grass off of it, “Let’s finish this.”
. . .
Harry was wrong about Y/N.
He thought she was shy and quiet, maybe a bit mousy if anything. But no— it turns out, in the few hours that he’s known Y/N, if she doesn’t have a taste for someone, she’ll make it known. It’s not even in outwardly mean ways, it’s just passive aggressive, like dismissive hums at his every attempt at conversation, or him pointing out the ballet studio on their walk through the campus center. He even says “oh, wow, it looks beautiful,” hoping to pet at the excited, passionate part of her personality, but instead, she ignores him.
She ignores him.
So when they finally finish the stupid scavenger hunt, Harry couldn’t be more eager to be done with it. He tells her he’ll submit the papers to their orientation leader so she can go fuck off and find whatever friends she’s made, and she does, without even a bit of arguing. It makes Harry sigh as he’s walking back to the big barbecue event in the quad. He feels bad for his cocky response — he didn’t even mean it, and it came off so arrogantly that she would probably forever associate him with it until they went their separate ways.
He has a hockey thing tonight — the rest of the team that aren’t first-years are already back on campus, practicing and gearing up for the start of the season, so the coach invited him to come meet everyone — but he can’t shake how shitty he feels about someone already hating him. He decides he’ll offer an olive branch of cheese fries (he opts out of a burger or hot dog, just in case she’s vegetarian). He spots her sitting at a table in the same shady spot they were in earlier, two other girls by her side as they chat. From here, she looks happy, engaged in casual conversation with people she could’ve met today or known for years — he really can’t tell.
When he makes it over to their table, he expects Y/N to at least look up at him, some sort of recognition in her expression, but instead she just looks… confused? Bored?
“Hey,” Harry greets awkwardly, feeling that their conversation immediately took a pause due to his presence. He places the cheese fries down on the table. “I’m sorry again about today. I don’t want that to be your first impression of me.”
Based on her demeanor, he doesn’t expect a gracious response; if anything, a lackluster “it’s fine” would have sufficed. But instead, her eyebrow quirks and she cocks her head to the side.
“I’m sorry. Do I know you?”
It hits Harry in the gut.
He flounders, his lips parting open and closed like a fish gasping for air. He collects himself a moment later, pressing his mouth into a tight line.
“You’re right. Must have confused you with someone else,” he replies with a clenched jaw. “Enjoy the fries anyway.”
His legs quickly carry him far away from the table and in the direction of the hockey arena and locker room. He hopes he can pull some skates on and at least shoot around a little, because if he ever has to see that girl’s face again, she’ll have hell to pay.
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Until We Found You | Part III
Part III is now up and running! P.S. there are two playlists I listen to while writing these, they don’t necessarily go with reading them but you totally could listen to them as you read! Let me know if you would like the playlists. As usual, heed the tags.
Modern Day College Scream AU, Obsessed AFAB!Reader, Eventual Poly!Ghostface x reader,NSFW, All characters 18+, P in V, Fingering, Overall smut
Part I Part II Part IV Part VI Part VII Part VIII Part IX
The next few days were pretty dull, you spent a few days over at Sidney’s, the first night it was just you two but the third day Tatum, Billy, and Stu all spent the night- it was a group decision to leave Randy out because he would just go on and on about who was the killer and why they were targeting the victims. Ghostface was pretty quiet too, with no killings or attempts since you, you were starting to wonder if you were meant to be the last victim, you also wondered if you had pissed them off by not going home. Luckily today you were returning home, back to see your parents and Irena and your brand new door- no shining scene included this time.
“Need a ride? Me and Stu are going to the movie store,” Billy asked, making you turn to him after you and Sidney had pulled away from a hug. “Sure, my parents haven’t left my aunts yet so I would appreciate it,” you said before turning to Sidney again. “Thanks for letting me crash at yours, I’ll call if I have anything weird going on again,” you promised her, waving bye as you left with the boys.
“You should call us if that creep comes back, me and Billy can put him in his place,” Stu said, giving his signature laugh and smile, making you laugh. “That’s a great idea, Billy can scare him away with his crazy eyes and you can bore him to death by telling him all about horror movies,” you joked, earning annoyed glares from both boys, making you laugh again. “I’ll call if I see them again, okay? Don’t worry about me, I can handle myself,” you promised the boys as you climbed into the back seat, throwing your bag in next to you.
The day passed by smoothly, the boys had taken you to the movie rental store and bought you some candy along with a movie, which Stu insisted you watch and even rented for you. Prom Night, another fucking Jamie movie. You had popped it into your laptop that night once you were home. Irena sat on your lap as you caught up on some homework due the next day, occasionally you glanced at your laptop to watch the movie, not noticing when Irena had moved from your lap and moved to your vanity. She sat down, her tail twitching angrily, your attention finally moved to her when you heard a little growl escape her.
When you got up to see what had angered her you saw the window slide open, the same masked killer from the other day climbing in through your window. You paused, looking at them with wide eyes, wondering if the flirting over the phone had all been a plan to get you off guard, to either kill you or kidnap you so they could set you up for the murders of Casey and Steve. Your nerves didn’t calm down when they motioned you closer after closing the window, still, you walked over slowly to them. Their hand reached up to your face, cupping it gently before gripping it more firmly, holding the knife in their other hand up to your cheek. Your breath hitched, feeling the cool touch of the steel against you, but they made no movements to harm you in any way, not really at least.
The knife ghosted over your skin, not enough to cut but enough for you to feel scared and strangely turned on at the same time. Your eyes studied the mask in front of you, you couldn’t make out their eyes behind the mesh, but you could feel their eyes piercing into yours. They removed their hands from you, pushing you towards the bed, you complied but paused when you sat down on it. “My parents are home…can-can you lock the door at least,” you asked, they tilted their head towards the door and you swore you heard them chuckle as they most likely recalled how they broke the last one. They walked over to the door, locking it before making their way to you. Your legs clenched together, your ever-growing nervousness and excitement now showing to them as you wondered what they were going to do.
They looked over you for a moment before holding the knife right up to your sternum, pressing the knife onto your clothes as they began to drag it down, leaving a trail of torn clothes in their wake. “I kinda liked those…” you murmured, if they hadn’t had the mask on you may have seen the shit-eating grin they had on their lips as they pressed the knife harder against your skin. Your cheeks heated up, taking the hint to shut up as you let them continue. You had already changed into pajamas earlier in the night, your Carrie shirt now tattered and torn, exposing your top half to them. Once they reached your groin, they paused and moved the knife away, pocketing it before pushing you back onto the bed so you were laying down.
They hovered over you, tracing your face again, the rough texture of their glove trailing down your body before their fingers hooked under the waistband of your pj pants, tugging them off slowly. Your skin grew goosebumps all over, the cold air in your room felt like mercy against your warm skin, which was only growing hotter by the second. A small whimper left you as you felt them place their hand over your panties, you hadn’t even noticed until that moment but your arousal had shown even through the fabric, feeling a little embarrassed that you were so needy without much effort.
Your hand flung up to your mouth as you felt them reach into your underwear, you could feel how cold their fingers were even through the gloves as they ghosted over your clit. You bit down on your hand as they pressed on your clit, circling around it as you closed your eyes and tilted your head back. The texture of the glove bothered you a little, which they must have noticed as you bucked against their fingers. A whine left your lips as their hand pulled away, opening your eyes to see them reaching into their pocket and pulling out some torn piece of fabric. They spread it out in their hands, showcasing it to you, a blindfold. Another blush rose to your cheeks as you tilted your head up for them to put it on, a silent understanding between you two that they wanted you to stay clueless about who they were. They reached around your head and tied the fabric over your eyes, your heart began to beat faster realizing that you were completely at their mercy now.
They reached back into their pocket, bringing the knife out and making a stabbing motion at you, bringing the knife inches from your forehead. When you didn’t flinch, they felt comfortable knowing you couldn’t see behind the blindfold and began to undress. You heard them shuffling in the outfit, hearing a thud on the floor, wondering if that was the knife or their mask. You received your answer when you felt the knife against your cheek again, you felt yourself grow wetter, partially because of the knife, partially because ghostface was standing right in front of you unmasked and you couldn’t see them. Your hand tried to move to touch them but before you had the chance they pinned you down by your wrist. You whined but they only gripped you tighter, they dropped the knife and instead grabbed your torn t-shirt and tied your wrist together with it.
You didn’t have to wait much longer before their mouth was latched onto your neck and their fingers were tracing over your core. Their fingertips teased you, running over your folds as they carefully placed a hickey on your neck. You could feel a grin on their lips as they bit and licked at your skin, feeling your pulse under their tongue. You did your best to keep your voice down, your heavy breaths bounced off of your bedroom walls as they pushed two fingers into you. A louder whine sounded from you, to which they comforted you by planting a kiss against your lips. You didn’t need to see them to feel the passion in the kiss, they pushed against you with such need, teeth clanking together and making your bones shake as their thumb moved to your clit.
Your thighs opened a little wider to allow them more access, relishing in the pleasure their hands brought you. The familiar tension in your stomach was slowly beginning to build, sweat began to form on your skin from feeling their hot breath against you. You felt their eyes on you, it only made you more turned on knowing they were watching every little reaction you had to their movements. Another finger entered you, hitting a spot inside that made you toss your head back and thank any supernatural being or god there was that they were quick enough to swallow the moan you let out in a kiss. They took the opportunity to snake their tongue into your mouth, making you melt even further as their pace quickened.
Your chest began to rise and fall quickly as that knot in your stomach threatened to break. You moved slightly, your hips bucking and moving against their fingers as you let the pleasure take you over. Before you could tip over the edge they pulled away, which made you whine and squirm in protest. “Not fucking fair,” you breathed out, to which you were met with the cold blade of their knife again pressing against your neck. You pouted, realizing ghostface probably didn’t like your bratty attitude too much but it was all fixed when they kissed you again. Your legs slowly fell open again, allowing them to situate themself in between them. Their hand let go of the knife again and instead took the opportunity to roam over your body, little whines coming from you when they ran over- and teased- all the spots you reacted to.
Finally, they trailed their way back to your core, watching as your face scrunched up with pleasure as they circled your clit again. “Please…” you whined to them, their other hand gripping your thigh as a warning, “I want you in me already, please.” You begged, their grip growing even tighter, likely to leave a bruise before they finally let up. You barely took a breath before you felt them against you, your body tensed slightly but soon calmed down as you felt their lips on yours again. They were more gentle this time, but you could feel the tension they held by holding themselves back. “It’s okay., you can ruin me. Please ruin me,” you begged again, whimpering when their hand gripped your neck, squeezing the sides as they quickly entered you.
Ghostface was smart enough to put their mouth on yours again to cover up your moan, melting in their hold as they began to set up a steady pace. You wondered if they were taking it slow to let you adjust or to tease you, but they quickly had your attention again when their free hand returned to your core. Your stomach tightened once again, your head spinning with all the pleasure they were giving you. When their thrusts began to quicken you couldn’t help but arch your back, your ankles hooking around them and trapping them in between your legs, but with the way they thrusted even harder into you, you don’t think they minded it one bit.
It wasn’t long before the two of you were close to coming undone, both of your hips stuttered and bucked, their hand that played with your clit quickened a little as well, paying attention to the spots that had you shaking. “Fuck, gonna-“ you whined again, your head tilting back as they hit your sweet spot, “gonna cum,” you whimpered out between moans, trying to keep quiet. They continued the torture they were inflicting on you, your black vision turning white as you finally reached your climax. Your thighs shook around them, pulsing around them before they came.
You felt their muscles unclench, glad that you finally came to the realization that they had worn protection, mentally cursing yourself for not even checking before. They pulled out slowly, gently touching your face as you whimpered from the loss. You adjusted yourself on the bed as they finally peeled away from you, hearing the shuffling of clothes again as they got dressed.
After a moment you felt a dip in the bed, feeling them untie you but held down your wrists as they leaned in for one last kiss. You smiled into it, giggling as they pulled away. “Come again tomorrow, with a new Carrie shirt preferably,” you asked playfully, feeling their lips curl up into a smile before they pulled away. You heard the thumps of plastic before your blindfold was taken off, your eyes meeting the masked killer after adjusting to the light.
“Was that smile a yes,” you asked, smiling when they nodded. “You can take the torn one as a momento, and so you know what size to get,” you offered, holding out the piece of clothing to them. They grabbed it, heading back to the window as you stayed on the bed and watched them. They climbed out of your room while you finally stood up and watched them take off. You sighed, running your hands over the little hickeys and bruises they left on you before heading to your bathroom to get cleaned up.
There was the ringing of a phone, only sounding for a few seconds before the other line picked up. “Hey Stu, let's take the girls shopping tomorrow, we owe someone a new shirt. Also need to get you all fancied up too, you have a date tomorrow night,” Billy said, Stu laughing before beginning to question him on the details.
#poly!ghostface#poly!ghostface x reader#billy loomis#stu macher#scream au#poly!ghostface x female reader#billy loomis x reader#stu macher x reader#scream x reader#scream1996#scream 1996#scream#billy x stu x reader#ghostface#ghostface x reader#obsessed!reader#billy loomis smut#stu macher smut#poly!ghostface smut
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Three’s the Crowd | Nick Moldenhauer & Luca Fantilli
summary: at a team party two boys get the chance to have you, but what happens when you want them both?
request: yes/no
warnings: sexual themes, p in v, oral (m and fem receiving!), mild degradation, threesome, swearing.
word count: 5.02k
authors note: the Nick and Luca threesome is finally here and I’m embarrassed to admit how long it took me… @fantillisdaylight thank you for trusting me with this idea and I hope I have done it justice! this one gets hot people, that was the aim so let’s all hope I did it!
You had always been someone Luca kept in his mind.
Becoming best friends with Adam when the boys signed to the Chicago Steel was probably one of the best things that had ever happened to you. He was the reason the University of Michigan went from third on your list of potentials to first. The Fantilli boy quickly became your person as he knew you like the back of his hand.
That’s why you ended up a little lost when he made the jump from college to the NHL. The man who kept you sane was no longer there and that what made you sink into the crowd as you needed a new sense of direction. So when Nick showed up it felt like your calls had all been answered with one swift movement.
Luca grew envious by how quickly you rekindled your friendship with the Moldenhauer boy who everyone swore had a crush on you. The thoughts were things that you had heard and anyone would have lied if they said they didn’t enjoy hearing how guys felt about them. But a level of greed seemed to seep into your mind as you turned into a glutton, taking the boys flirting yet still wanting more from other guys.
You thought you were slick as you would have multiple guys in your phone as you basked in the attention, but you had your favourite’s. Your main rule was that you never had these boys in your room, you could flirt but nothing was allowed to cross any lines as you were having fun.
Yet by the time the cold and icy air that January brought, so came a level of frustration that not even watching snow fall outside your window could cure. You were sexually frustrated and after weeks of contemplating and having to accept that your vibrator wasn’t strong enough to cure it. With the help of your friends you came up with the idea that would make you irresistible and if you were lucky more than one guy would end up in your trap.
Just as you hoped from the moment you walked into that party heads turned to watch you. Your black skirt was tight around your ass and your white cropped polo was barely keeping your bra hidden. Luca and Nick each stared at you from where they stood and you did little to hide your smirk “hey boys.” You stopped in front of them as you smiled.
You swore the boys had to be stupid to not see the way you had both of them in your hands “come here with anyone tonight?” Luca asked as he scanned the path behind you only to see a few of your friends from your dorm building walking on together “couldn’t I come see my favorite host alone?” You teased as the sophomore hockey players were hosting tonight after a run of big wins came from the team “you know I won’t turn down seeing you sweets.” The boy had given you the nickname years ago yet somehow it still brought a blush to your cheeks after all this time.
Nick resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he watched the sight before his eyes “you want a drink?” The question slipped from his lips reminding the sophomores that he was there “only if you’ll have one too.” The wink you sent him made any and all jealousy that he had practically vanish from his mind.
He let his hand lock into yours as he pulled you towards the kitchen. A smirk formed on Nicks lips as he could feel the glare that Luca sent him “happy to see you tonight princess.” Nick mumbled sending shivers down your spine.
Luca let a scowl form on his face as bile built up in his throat, if Nick wanted you to play this game then he was going to have a worthy opponent in Luca.
The party continued on and now with a slight buzz and a beer soaked shirt from when Gavin bumped into you. The bathroom seemed to call your name as you pressed your hand against the wall keeping you upright “you enjoying making a mess sweets?” Luca teased turning his attention from the blonde girl who had been up against the wall next to him.
You shook your head as you groaned “Gav did.” His face hardened as he left the girl irritated “gotta help my girl.” Luca shrugged as he sent you a smile.
His hand pressed to the small of your back ignoring her complaints as he ushered you into the bathroom “didn’t need you to come with me.” You mumbled as the door shut behind you “missed you tonight sweets.” Luca smiled as he watched you strip out of your white revealing your sticky pink bra.
He’d be lying if he said that as he watched you pat down your sticky skin, Luca felt his cock throb as his eyes trailed down to your skirt that seemed even shorter “clearly you did.” You scoffed as you shook your head think back to the girl who was next to him not even a few minutes ago.
A laugh left his lips as you furrowed your eyebrows “you jealous?” Sure she was a pretty little blonde, and sure she was exactly his type but she wasn’t you. And for Luca that mattered the most “please you think I care about what you do with some-” you were cut off as his lips hit yours.
His hand reached up as it tugged in your hair “lu.” You moaned leaving your mouth open as it gave him a chance to slide his tongue into your mouth “mhm.” He groaned pushing you against the sink as you sat up on the counter.
He pulled away giving him the chance to see your swollen lips as you looked up at him “some what?” Luca smirked as you sent him a glare “you gonna let me have you pretty girl?” He asked dropping his head to your neck as he began to nip at your skin taking in the taste of the beer.
A whimper left your lips as you pressed your thighs together “you have me Lu.” You nodded as the pool within your panties became far too much for you to handle “fuck who knew I needed to kiss you to get you like this?” The hockey player teased dropping his hand between your legs letting his fingers dance against your thighs.
He watched in awe as you bit your lower lip “fucking do it before I find someone else.” The warning made his eyes go sharp “like who?” Luca didn’t want for your response as he began fiddling with your panties “Nick.” A penny dropped in his mind as Luca ripped the fabric that covered your cunt like it was nothing “Luca!”
Your groan echoed off of the walls as the boy laughed “c’mon you know I’ll get you another pair if that’s what you were worried about sweets.” Luca clicked his tongue as he finally pressed his fingers against your cunt.
You shuddered at his touch feeling himself drive his fingers up and down your slit “you’re fucking soaked.” He gasped into your ear before he went to suck at your ear lobe “please.” You whimpered pushing your hips closer to him.
Luca rolled his eyes as he began letting his lips nip at your skin. Your eyes screwed shut as you were lulled by his actions. His lips moved down your chest as he kissed between the valley of your breasts “just fucking do something god.” You grumbled as you were ready to unclip your bra for him to speed it up.
The boy shook his head as be smiled “you gonna let me taste you before you start acting like a brat?” Luca quipped back making you nod your head repeatedly as though he couldn’t see you.
He didn’t take long as he dropped to his knees hooking his hands under your legs pulling you closer to the edge of the sink “such a pretty pussy.” The hockey players mumbled kissing up your thighs as he made sure to not miss a spot “god please.” You begged feeling his breath against your cunt.
Time seemed to stop as your body almost double downed in pleasure when his tongue lay flat on your slit “that’s how I got to shut you up?” Luca clicked his tongue as he let out a chuckle. The boy squeezed your legs as he moaned at the mere tug of your hand through his hair.
His tongue focused on your clit like you were his last meal “right there.” You mumbled rolling your hips against him. As his cock now hurt in his boxers Luca didn’t even care about it as he watched you have that fucked out look on your face.
In fact he was so focused on you that he didn’t notice the door opening “oh.” Nick looked at the sight with wide eyes and as he spoke it made you use the little energy you had left to look at him “fucking shut the door!” Luca groaned replacing his tongue with his thumb on your clit.
Nick was quickly brought back to wart as he was reminded of the fact that there was a party literally on the other side of the wall “c’mere Nick.” You cooed curling your finger in your direction as you looked at him “we won’t bite.” You added letting your lips form a loose smile.
He nodded finally shutting the door making the effort to lock the door “this what you wanted baby?” Luca teased pulling his head back to your cunt where he went back to his meal “wanted to both.” You confessed making Nick smile as he finally walked over to you.
You watched Nick as he cupped your jaw “want to kiss you.” You mewled as Nick finally listened to you. His lips were rough against yours as you melted at his touch.
Luca couldn’t help it as he pinched your hip reminding you that he was still there “fuck!” You groaned pushing your head against the mirror “enjoying this baby?” Luca teased bringing you back to the image of him between your thighs.
Nick continued to kiss down your neck as he sucked at your sensitive skin “so much.” You whimpered as the boy reached behind your back with one hand to unclasp your bra. Both boys looked in awe as your breasts were freed from their constraints as your bra was thrown to the floor “you been hiding these from us?” Nick let out a grunt as he rolled your nipple between his fingers.
The room grew hot as you had one nipping at your breast and the other between your legs “you see how fucking needy she is for us?” Luca’s rough voice had you shivering as your thighs squeezed his head “can’t wait to see what she’s like around a cock.” Nicks vulgar words made Luca laugh as he kissed your cunt.
His tongue lashed against you and with each swipe your strength wavered “more?” You whimpered now infatuated with the idea of both boys sending you over the edge as their cocks stuffed your cunt and your mouth. Nick seemed to be on the same wavelength as you as he nodded “go make a mess on his tongue pretty girl and then I’ll let you get a taste okay?” The freshman watched in awe as your hair began to stick to the back of your neck from swear as your body shook almost overwhelmed from the pleasure you felt “Lu I’m gonna come.” You announced and you swore it only made him increase the pace of his tongue.
Feelings overwhelmed you as your mouth fell open yet it seemed that not a single sound left your lips as your eyes rolled back “fuck she’s a needy little thing huh?” Nick laughed as he kept his hands on your shoulders forcing your body to stay still as you came “fuck off!” You groaned making him scoff “gonna make you wish you didn’t say that.” Luca was too focused still lapping up the taste of your release to even notice that Nick had his hand pressed against the shell of your ear as he whispered.
As you tugged on Luca’s hair once more he finally pulled away as he was reminded of the fact that he wanted at least one more orgasm out of you. A smirk laced his facial expressions as his chin glistened from your juices that had made a mess on his face “you’ve got such a sweet fucking cunt.” Luca announced as he ran his fingers through your folds separating them in the process “look at how soaked she is.” Nick swore he had gone to heaven when he got the chance to look at you.
A look of almost shame found itself on your face “all for us isn’t it baby?” The freshman spoke in a hushed tone that had you just about ready to roll over and turn into a puddle “I need your cocks.” You groaned as the sudden feeling of Lucas fingers teasing your hole and Nick’s thumb on your cunt growing too overstimulating for you.
That was all it seemed to take from you to have Nick helping you off of the sink as you stood up straight “who do you want first?” Luca palmed his boner through his pants “want him in my mouth.” Your eyes locked with Nick as the image of Luca between your legs became just as strong.
The movements were quick, like in the blink of an eye and you were between both boys with Nicks hands around your neck and Luca’s one pinching into your hip “god you don’t know how much I’ve wanted this.” Luca felt like he forgot to breathe as he guided his cock to your clit spreading his precum over the sensitive nub as he teased your slit.
Your mouth far too occupied to complain though as Nick had his lips against yours. If this was any other moment Luca could have possibly found it in his heart to see the boys joy in the fact that Nick was finally getting with the girl of his dreams. But as you paid little attention to Luca it made him grow jealous, so with that he didn’t hesitate to slam his hips against yours as he gave you little time to adjust to how your walls swallowed his cock “fuck!” You moaned almost watching your legs give out as surprise mixed with amusement and you began to feel your mind go numb.
You let your hand brush down Nicks torso as it slid beneath the drawstring of his shorts “you want me that bad princess?” It took everything from Nick to not pass out in that very moment as he watched your eyes go full as your breasts bounced each time Luca bottomed you out.
It seemed that Nick was no longer going to try to have you in his tough guy act as he instead gave you what he wanted pulling his boner from his boxers as he let it hit his pubic bone “bro you should have gotten this pussy.” Luca groaned as he slapped your ass.
As your mouth fell open Nick took the opportunity to slide his cock into it “there you go pretty girl.” The freshman cooed as he clutched his fingers into your hair as it made you moan out in pleasure “think this is what she wanted all along?” Luca asked as the squelching sounds of your cunt that mixed with the sounds of your gags were like music to his ears.
You couldn’t help but let your cunt clench around him as your walls squeezed his length as you attempted to look up at Nick “looks like you fucking love being our little slut don’t ya?” When you didn’t answer him his hand tugged at your roots unintentionally making you open your mouth wider “hmm.” Your voice came with an inaudible moan that sent vibrations through Nicks body.
Luca let out a grunt as you hadn’t let up on the squeeze around his cock “fuck sweets if you don’t loosen yourself I’m not gonna last.” The warning made you whimper as you swirled your tongue around Nicks cock forcing your back to arch as you tried to take most of his cock forcing yourself to breathe through your nose.
This new angle also meant that Luca was hitting a further spot within you and with that came even more pleasure for all three of you as your throat loosened as the strain on your neck softened “think she deserves her second?” Nick had pushed his fingers to the base of your scalp forming a makeshift ponytail to get better control of his thrusts as he fucked your face.
The Fantilli boy shook his head as he heard you moan at the offer “no I think little sweets here should make you come first.” His words came with his hand on your clit like a bit of encouragement to get you to make him last longer than his younger teammate.
Your eyes were close to rolling back into your head as you gasped swirling your tongue around Nick’s cock like your life depended on it “don’t stop pretty girl.” The coo had your legs shaking as you were left certain that without Luca hand gripping at your hip you would have had your face in the floor “I’m gonna come fuck!” Nick let out a groan as he let his cock slide out from your mouth before his hand replaced where your tongue was “open those pretty little lips f’me.” As his hand began to jerk himself of Nick finally hit his release.
He watched in awe as the warm sticky ropes of his release shot from his aching cock and began to paint your lower face and even found as far as to land on your collar bones only making you moan louder as you felt it. Luca kept his hand locked in your hair as he kept your face from dropping “you close sweets?” The boys wanton expression made you mewl as his other hand stayed pressed against your stomach forcing you to feel how deep his cock went in your cunt.
A flurry of incoherent words flew from your lips as you nodded “so big.” Was the only thing that either of them could understand “is that a yes princess?” Nick let out a grunt as he found his lips hovering over yours as he took the moment to see the mess he had made on your skin “please.” The relentless pounding of Luca’s cock had your legs shaking as your ears rang.
The boys laughter taunted you “know you can beg better than that you.” Nick clicked his tongue as he pecked your lips watching your eyes flutter “want to make a mess for you please.” You whimpered feeling your cunt throb around his teammates cock “let yourself go then pretty girl.” As Luca huffed the words out wondering how much longer he could last within the bounds of your heavenly cunt.
You didn’t need to be told twice as Nick let your lips go as your moans echoed off of the walls as Luca’s orgasm was brought on by yours “right there sweets.” The sophomore grunted as his cock coated your walls fucking you through your orgasm.
Your chest heaved as you came down from it still feeling your core full as his thumb drew faint circles on your clit “enough.” You squirmed feeling a level of sensitivity build up between your legs once more “since you asked so nicely sweets.” Luca teased sliding his cock out of you letting you fall into Nicks arms.
The younger boy placed a kiss to your head as he smiled “Luca you in there!” Rutger groaned as he knocked on the door reminding the three of you that the party was still coming on downstairs.
Luca couldn’t help but groan as he watched Nick smirk “yeah.” Luca raked his fingers through his hair “we’re downstairs playing beer pong so hurry up!” the blondes words made a smile form on your face as you laughed “maybe leave the girl in there though.” He trailed off making your eyes go wide as you were reminded of the fact that they could hear you.
The Fantilli boy sighed as he pecked your lips reaching down for his shorts that were on the floor “stay with me?” You croaked out throat still raw as you looked at Nick.
He nodded as he lifted you back onto the sink as you both watched the older boy leave before Nick locked the door again “how are you feeling pretty girl?” The words made you smile as a giddy feeling built in your chest “this your version of after talk?” You let out a laugh as you watched him walk over to you.
The way his eyes stared at you made you feel so exposed, even as you were naked “liked making a mess on you.” He confessed as he brushed his fingers over your collarbone when he smiled.
Your hand was as placed over his as you nodded “it doesn’t have to end there Nick.” Your proposal made his ears perk up in surprise “what do you mean?” He mumbled as you cupped his face letting your hands squeeze his cheeks.
His eyes intently stared at yours as he waited for your answer “just that I wanna spend just a little more time with ya Nicky.” You cooed letting your lips hover over his “don’t know if I can do it.” His confession made you frown as he feared he had done the wrong thing “you trust me to walk you through it?” Your strong demeanour was replaced by this soft one.
A smile sat strong on his face as he nodded “have me just how you want me tonight.” Nick mumbled as you were fully in control of him. He was surprised as he watched you tug at his shirt “then it’s not fair that I’m the only one who is naked.” There was a hint of amusement in your words as you helped him get rid of his shirt and his shorts.
Just like before Nick was attractive to you as you couldn’t help but smile “you’re such a pretty boy.” You cooed letting your saliva drop to his cock as you began to run your hand up his length as you pumped his cock in an attempt to get him hard again “just for you.” Nick groaned as you kissed his lips reminding him of the fact that he was now the centre of your attention.
It took a few more pumps of your hand for him to grow hard again and you did a few more just to tease him “I’m not gonna last if you keep doing that.” He gasped letting his teeth sink into your shoulder as his cock began to throb in your hand as the precum oozed from his tip “watch this f’me pretty boy.” You ordered feeling a sense of power over the boy as he nodded practically lapping up your demands like they were nothing.
You drove the swollen head over your clit making you both shudder in the process “please.” Nick whined desperate to have more of you “since you asked so nicely.” You teased sliding his cock down your slit before you let it slowly slide into your cunt.
The air around you both grew warm as you both watched how your soaked pussy swallowed his cock like it was nothing “fuck!” You gaped biting down on your lip as you saw his pubic bone hit your clit as your legs went up on either side of him to accommodate him.
A smile formed on his face as he let out a little laugh “you good princess?” He asked as he let his hands setting on your hips “think I should be asking you that.” You quipped back finally losing your strong expression as he pinched the flesh of your ass.
It made him roll his eyes as he began slowly pulling his hips away from you before he brought them back “you can go harder pretty boy.” You mumbled wrapping your arms around his neck.
The thought was hot in your brain as you realised that Nick was fucking you with Luca’s come as his lube since it still coated your cunt “you still so needy after all that?” Nick let out a dry laugh as he began to taunt you “f’you.” You swore your brain was being rewired as it only made his confidence grow.
Nick began to pick up his pace as he nipped at your throat “was waiting to get you like this.” The freshman revealed as his voice was a low rasp “had to watch you be his girl.” He grumbled making his efforts stronger as it caused your breasts to bounce with each thrust.
A low moan left your lips “wanted to have you be all mine but you just had to be a little slut and want us both huh?” Part of you was surprised at how vocal he was “wanted to be your girl too.” You mewled bringing your hand between you two as you began to rub at your clit still feeling sensitive from your first two orgasms.
The sound of your squelching cunt echoed off of the walls “you get to show me that now.” Nick had been jealous the entire night having to fight Luca for every bit of your attention and he had now grown tired of it.
His cock pulsed in your core as his hands kept you planted on the counter “you’re so big.” You whined locking your legs on Nicks hips “should have let you fuck me in Chicago.” He tensed at the mention of your home city but as it made you moan he thought he was unnoticed.
Nick grew tired of kissing your neck as he swatted your hand away from your clit as he replaced it with his own “you don’t know how long I have been thinking about this pretty little cunt of yours.” You clenched around him as you heard his words “but I think you already knew how good you are.” He scoffed pinching your skin as he knew how the other guys were around you.
You were keeping your eyes screwed shut as you felt your stomach tighten “I’m gonna-“ the words couldn’t leave your lips before Nick cut you off “fucking hold it.” The hockey player growled having other things in mind for you.
A whimper was stuck in your throat “you wanted to come then you have to fucking beg.” Nick spat as his free hand was pressed up against the mirror behind you.
If this was any other moment you would have put up a fight but as your cunt was clenched and your body was close to losing it “I just want to be your little slut Nick.” You announced pressing your head against the glass behind you “make a mess on your cock and make you feel so fucking good.” Your promise made him smirk as he kissed your lips letting his teeth nip at your lower lip “make that mess.”
It was as though the heavens opened as you swore you heard the sounds of prayer bells playing in your ears “don’t fucking stop please.” You begged using the little strength that you had left to writhe your hips against him “come in me.” The words left your lips washing away any nerves that the boy might have had.
The room felt warm as your eyes fluttered “shit shit shit!” You chanted as you came clenching his cock as you spurred in his orgasm “right there!” Nick gritted as he continued to fuck you through your orgasm.
As he finally slowed down Nick watched your chest heave “you okay pretty girl?” His voice was soft as he kissed your cheek letting his cock slide out of your cunt “I’m good.” You mumbled as you nodded.
It was sweet as Nick smiled “you want a moment up here or you ready to go down?” He asked as he reached down for your panties “let’s go.” You felt your heart grow full at the gesture and you were going to be excited to learn that his levels of aftercare would only grow to improve from that night onwards.
You had felt weird the last few weeks. Sure the memory of that night was on replay in your mind as you started seeing the boys more frequently, both together and alone. So like any normal and responsible young adult you googled your symptoms and found three different things you could have been going through. One was something that you were about thirty years too young to be experiencing, the second was one you hoped it wasn’t. And the third was one you could have proven wrong with the simple action of peeing on a stick.
Truly you thought it was going to be nothing. Which is why you didn’t mind waiting for those three minutes to run right by. Of course though luck was never meant to truly be on your side as this was college and what better way to add stress to your life than a baby. But it didn’t end there, you didn’t even know who the father was because you had been sleeping with two guys who were also best friends.
So as the two thick lines stared back at you as though it was trying to mock you, you couldn’t help but groan “fuck!” As you slammed the test on the ground hoping that it would erase your current reality.
That wasn’t going to work though as this baby wasn’t going anywhere and you had somethings you needed to figure out, starting with whose goddamn baby, were you carrying?
#luca fantilli smut#Nick Moldenhauer smut#umich smut#hockey smut#umich imagines#umich x reader#hockey imagines#hockey oneshots#oneshots#hockey imagine#imagines#nick moldenhauer#luca fantilli#amber writes fics
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Barça v Arsenal
Summary: Based on a request I can’t find, someone wanted a Barça x Arsenal match for the series.
Warnings: Start of a panic attack but doesn't actually happen. Mentions of pregnancy and I guess morning sickness
A/N: Match is fake obviously - trying to find some happiness in Lia’s injury….. Also it’s quite short and not the best but at least it is something.
You were pacing the length of the locker room, trying to shake the fact that you were about to verse your third family, Arsenal, with the hopes of pummeling them. “Can you stop you’re making me nervous,” someone commented, you were too in your head to know who it was, “no,” you bluntly replied while still pacing, you felt the fear start to rise though as your heart rate increased ever so slightly and it was becoming slightly harder to breath.
“Okay everyone it’s probably time to warm up, Y/N/N and I will meet you all out there” Alexia instructed the team.
“Bebita,” she waited but didn’t get a response, “Y/N/N it’s going to be okay,” “but what if its not, we have to beat them, I have-” you were stopped by Alexia who pulled you in for a hug, “Stop rambling, you will be fine. You are amazing, you’re going to show them all up, Sì?” “Sì”
_____
The game is going well, well better that well. Barça is 6 goals up and there is still 30 mins left in the game, you won a 1v1 with Leah and smirked at her “Guess I am the better Williamson now,” “We’ll see about that”
In the 89th minute you had a perfect opportunity, you kicked the ball, and it went through Leah’s legs before it found the back of the net.
“You just nutmegged me” you just shrugged as you walked away, “oh what don't even celebrate goals now?” “Nah score to many of them,” you smirk back to your sister, before the ref blew the whistle.
At that moment Leah really expected you to go to her first, she was just right there and you hadn’t seen each other in so long, but you didn't you sprinted over to Alexia and sprung into her arms, she caught you with ease, like it was something that you do often, spinning you around before she put you down.
Lia walked over to stand behind your sister who was standing with Beth, Steph, and Viv, she was looking over at you though. Lia wrapped her arms around Leah’s waist, before whispering something to her, “She’ll come over, just give her a moment, and it’s good she isn’t coming over straight away, it means she really does like it there, I mean look at them all.” Leah nodded, she knew her girlfriend was right, but she still couldn’t help the feeling that she had been replaced by Alexia.
“Brace for impact” Leah looked at Steph as she saw you running over, you jumped up on Steph.
“I think you’re getting too big for that now,” “Nah, I’m not even an adult yet.” You wake around to Leah and she wrapped her arms around you. “I missed you,” “I missed you too bug, but we get to spend tonight and tomorrow together,” you nodded, before turning around in her arms, so you could face the others.
“You were amazing today,” Steph said “Thanks, I miss you all.” “We miss you too, you know-” “Shit kid you’re insane, you literally are amazing” Katie said as she ran over to join you all.
“I’m just going to go check on Lia, you keep talking, I’ll come get you when it’s time to leave” Your sister told you quietly, you nodded before you looked over to see Lia, she was heading down the tunnel.
_____
“Y/N, ready to go?” Leah eyes you up and down, “Um, I’ll have a shower at home,” You had been so busy talking to everyone you hadn’t had time to have a shower and change.
“Okay, Lia is already in the car, so just meet us there, because I’m assuming you have to go return someone” she gestured to Harper who you had held in your arms, you nodded before going your separate ways, you followed Mini and Kyra to their car and put Harper in her carseat, before walking over to to where Leah and Lia were sitting in the car. As you opened the door you noticed Lia looked a little pale and almost as if she had been crying. She held onto her water bottle tightly. You were slightly confused, as she seemed fine earlier, but maybe it was due to whatever injury she had.
“You know bug, you would be a fantastic aunt,” Leah let slip as she started the car.
“Huh,” you saw Lia give your sister a mixed look, you weren't really sure what it was communicating, but you figured out pretty quickly what was going on “Wait, no, really?” your voice got embarrassingly higher with each word.
“Yes Bug really, but you can’t tell anyone, we hadn’t planned to tell you today but I mean you probably would’ve figured it out, considering I’m not actually injured, plus the sickness.” Lia responded to you, it now made sense why she looked like she did when you got in the car, “But Bug, you have to promise not to tell anyone. No one else knows, we only got the results back from the clinic yesterday,” your sister added.
“I promise I won’t, but I’m so excited for you both, you’re going to be great Mums. Also I’m sorry for making you wait for me, I just-” “it’s okay, don’t worry, I’m just glad you got to see everyone and that we get to spend time together”
“Can we name the baby Y/N?”
#woso community#woso#woso fanfics#woso x reader#woso imagine#arsenal wfc#awfc x reader#awfc#barca femeni x reader#barca women#barca femini x reader
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I don't know why I thought it was a good idea to argue with people about the worthlessness of voting third party. They just keep insisting that the influence is worth it, and that I was a coward for daring to suggest that we don't HAVE any other options than Democratic. I even cited how voting third party likely played a part in Al Gore losing ffs.
There's no "likely" about it, Ralph Nader DID directly cost Gore the election. He ran explicitly on the same "both parties are the same, so leftists/liberals should vote for me instead" rhetoric that we are still seeing among the Online Left, and it was successful: he got, for example, over 97,000 votes in Florida. Bush won Florida (and thus the presidency) by a miniscule 537 votes, after the fuckery of Bush v. Gore and SCOTUS ordering the recount stopped in Bush's favor. If the tiniest percentage of those Nader voters had gone for Gore, we would have had a president who was arguing in favor of tackling climate change in the year 2000. We would have been incredibly ahead of the curve. We would, in all likelihood, have a president who took the CIA's warnings of an impending al-Qaeda attack in the US seriously. We would not have had the disastrous Afghanistan and Iraq invasions and the "War on Terror," the rampant Islamophobia, "No Child Left Behind," the 2008 economic crash, and everything else that Dubya and his band of bloodthirsty neocons inflicted on us in the early aughties. Look, I try not to look back too much, but having Gore instead of Bush as president would have reshaped the entire timeline we're living in to such an unfathomably better degree that every moron thinking of voting third party For The Protest should be sat down and forced to learn this history intimately. Of course, they already saw it happen in real time in 2016, but they didn't care about that either.
The good news is: there are plenty of persuadable voters out there, and you can do work to reach them and convince them to vote for Democrats! They're just not online, because all the Online Leftists are terminally brain-poisoned against voting anyway and trying to argue with them is generally a waste of time. Instead, what you should do is take a gander at the following links:
This is the one-stop shop page for volunteering to get Democrats elected. You can do in-person and remote work, there are tons of different ways to get involved (i.e. you don't have to go directly out and knock doors if that's not something you're comfortable with), and your local Democratic party will welcome the volunteer help. There is also a page for finding your state party website:
I went there, clicked on my state, opened the webpage, and there was a "Volunteer" link right in the header, with an easy and quick form to fill out to register your interest and explain the kinds of work you would be interested in doing. You can canvass directly, you can manage data on the back end, you can phone bank, you can send texts and postcards to voters who may need an extra nudge, you can otherwise work with your state party in lots of ways, and it will be so much more productive and make you feel so much better than arguing with online idiots who will never, ever change their minds. What you can do is reach out to voters in your own community, in your own state, and have conversations with people who actually ARE willing to listen, but might need a little more educating on the facts, what's at stake, the truth about this election, and the danger that Trump poses. All of this will convert into critically important Democratic votes, and you can actually put your desire to make a difference into action. So yeah. I would 100% suggest you do it this way instead. Good luck.
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Hi babes can u write for my daddy Pyramid head where he discover that y/n LOVESSSS her clit being rubbed
Pairing : Pyramid Head x fem!reader
Cw: overstimulation, smut, fingerfucking, mention of belly bulge, of creampie, of p in v, tell me if I missed any.
Wc: 535
“Fu-fuck, wait!”
For someone as big and strong as him, Pyramid Head is a gentle and careful lover. He gives much more than he takes, but he had a penchant for stubbornness, pushing you over the limit, where you’d cry out from overstimulation. Your body jolting with ever rub of his thumb, the callous pad of his finger drawing circles over your sensitive clit. Your button was red and puffy, erect and twitching from his constant touch. It peered over its hood, pushed back from your arousal and his finger.
“Pyra! Please-,” you begged, pushing his wrist futilely with your trembling hands. “No more- I can’t!”
His chest rumbled lowly, vibrations wracking your body with flinching twitches, pawing at his hand and shoulder. You shook and whined, feeling a thick finger push into your soaked entrance, the girthy digit equaling to two of yours. They moved skillfully, thrusting into your gummy walls and curling upwards, slamming into your front wall roughly. His thumb kept it’s pace, fast and rough, alike his finger inside of you.
Your face burned, the slick sounds of your arousal were filthy, loud, dirty squelch when he shoved a second finger in, scissoring your tight cunt. His fingers spread you open, slick drizzling down your spasming rim and onto his clothed thighs that held your legs open, trapped around his slim waist and unable to close when you became too sensitive.
“Please- I can’t!”
He growled, slamming his fingers - a third joined the firsts, hitting deeper than anyone could - until you arched against his chest, breasts meeting his hardened chest, his rough clothes making your breath hitch. He wanted more, one last before he would fuck you, the hungry anticipation of having his long and big cock inside your tight, little snatch made you mewl.
You knew you were guilty of asking for more, wanting to have your nub stimulated a while longer, you loved the pleasure a single conglomeration of nerves did to your body, but he took it upon himself to have you melt under him. Wrenching orgasm after orgasm from you while you cried, he wouldn’t stop until he felt like he’d taken enough, until he’s had his fill of your wanton moans.
You clawed down his forearms, toes curling and ankles locking behind his back as your cunt closed around his digits, swallowing them deeper in desperation to come. You keened, body rising to the edge and tipping over it, hips bucking into his thrusting hand. He kept his pace, fingerfucking you through your orgasm and thumbing your quivering nerve, pressing his thumb over it. You whined, legs shaking as you rode off your high, curling into Pyramid Head in hope he would stop.
He cooed praisingly, growl a soft tone after your last high, squirting more slick over him, covering his abdomen with your tangy cum (he would’ve loved to drink every drop, ramming his tongue into you, but his need to breed you overcame his want to eat you out like you were his last meal.). Your body fell limp, body exhausted from the countless times he made you come. Your eyes were still rolled to the back of your head and your limbs and cunt jerking, mind hazed into drooling from your mouth. Even as he pulled his pants down, cock bobbing up and slapping wetly against his toned abdomen, slit leaking precum like a fountain, you couldn’t move, fatigue rendering your horny body immovable.
At the sight of his cock, you couldn’t help wanting it inside you, making your stomach bulge from the sheer size of it before he filled you with his cum.
#pyramid head dbd#pyramid head x reader smut#pyramid head x reader#pyramid head smut#pyramid head#dbd smut#dbd x reader#dbd fanfic#dbd pyramid head#dead by daylight smut#dead by daylight x reader#dead by daylight
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Type: Two-Shot (Part Two: Here)
Pairing: Fem! Reader x Damian Wayne/ Robin
Word Count: 8,605
Content: Bad y/n family, self-depreciative thoughts, language, violence, a little bit of gaslighting, angsty times, (a tiny bit of venting), "good" coping/reactions, tiny bit of batfam slander and aged up reader/Damian to 18yrs.
(P.S: I may or may not have another part planned that will make all of this make more sense but like it works fine as it is if y'all like it on its own)
Y/N: your name, V/N: Vigilante name, S/n: Sister's name, Favorite Color: f/c
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Family is supposed to be one of the most cherished and important things in life. They are supposed to support and love you; they are supposed to make you feel safe and happy. They are supposed to lift you up and help you know that despite your flaws you are loved, wanted and cherished.
And yet, yours never did.
Born the middle child you were quickly forgotten. Especially since your younger sister captured everyone's attention. Captivating every person who passed it seemed as if she had some kind of aura that pulled others in.
It seemed as if she was good at everything and nothing you could ever do would even make you half the person she was. She was kind, and friendly, wickedly intelligent and charismatic. A perfect person some would say, and it made you feel like utter shit for not being able to do a third of what she could.
Maybe that was why you turned to a life of vigilantism. Maybe you hoped that doing good, even with no thanks for it, would help you feel worth... something. Worth anything. That even though only you would know, you would be able to burn at a fraction of light your sister burned at. Helping others, saving people merely because they needed help and making a difference made you feel... alive.
But your sister was still there. She was still shining and bright, happy to steal any friend or crush you ever had. Or at least that's the way it seemed, the way her eyes would glint as she laughed twirling her hair chatting with your friends. A vengeful look spilling from them. But she always shed tears upon seeing your distraught face, she seemed to feel guilty though you felt a hidden smile behind her tears.
Sisters are sisters, your parents would say, she will be mean and tease you, but you will always love each other.
You began to wonder if all of it was a lie to make you feel as if she cared about you when it was clear she didn't. She seemed to hate that you had become content that you were different then her, that you proudly held your head high as people pointed out your differences. But she didn't know the way you truly felt. It was strange, she was so perfect that you were jealous, but jealousy was a nasty color on anyone. And you had heard too many times that you were selfish and self-centered to let others know how you truly felt about her.... well, some people knew.
Your partner, Damian Wayne- the mother fucking Robin, knew how you felt. He was your best friend after all, he knew all of your secrets and deepest feelings and wishes as you knew all of his. Ever since you had moved to Gotham and decided upon some extracurricular nighttime activities, only to be caught and brought in by Batman; your life had gotten a bit better. Your sister was miles away in your home state living a happy and pampered life as she went to college while living with your parents.
Regardless, it was hard to forget such emotions- to remove them completely. In fact, it was harder to forget how you were treated since you were so much freer. You were unhindered by your family's expectations and your sister's growing shadowing which you were so used to living in.
Now out of that shadow- out of sight of the throne your parents constantly put your sister on you were better able to see that she wasn't perfect at all... well at least she wasn't as nice and kind as she seemed to be. Away from your childhood home you were able to see all the jabs, torment, disparagement and diminishment you received from her. How she would mock your accomplishments and steal away those who helped you rise passed your insecurities regarding your place against hers.
It seemed whenever you got enough footing to climb out of her shadow, she'd push and knock you back to the depths of it.
You had, as many do, told your best friend of such revelations. But, as humans do, you made it clear that your thoughts probably had bias. An accumulation of years of neglect and belittlement made it hard to be sure what you felt was the truth. Which made it even harder to convince Damian you were right, but you didn't mind fighting such a battle if it meant someone else could see the sister the way she truly was... or at least the way you saw her.
"Ugh," You groaned tilting your head back as you turned your phone off leaning against the gravel covered rooftop, "Miss Perfect is at it again."
Across from you, Robin raised his head. His face stony as he scoffed looking around once again, doing the job you were supposed to be doing at the moment, patrolling.
Silence beat between the two of you and you rolled your eyes, swirling into a somersault before bounding over towards him. He stayed quiet and you began walking circles around him.
Throwing your voice down at least three octaves you spoke again, "And what exactly did that horrendous sister of yours do this time?"
Robin blinked at this, pausing before turning to you, his facade finally cracking as he lifted an eyebrow.
"What exactly was that supposed to be?"
You grinned leaning in a bit closer to him before batting your eyes and replying, "My impression of you being a caring friend and contributing to this important conversation."
This time the corner of his mouth twitched as he hesitated. Then he turned eyes scanning the horizon. You shrugged accepting the small victory as you slid into a perch your back pressed against his.
"I'm going to just keep talking and if you don't respond I'll respond for you, okay?"
He grunted in reply, and you took that as a yes before leaning your head, so it rested against the back of his shoulder.
"S/N found the old diary we shared and posted pictures of some entries on all of her socials. Entries- selective, that only I wrote- embarrassing entries."
Silence beat once again between the two of you and you took that moment to take up your impersonation once again.
"Do you think it was involuntary? Or that she had a particular reason for doing such an atrocious thing?"
You felt Robin's body tremble and twitch as he shifted, and his chest shook. Smiling softly, you looked up at the night sky, partially missing the thousands of stars you could see back home.
"No, I think she did it on purpose. As I have told you before, it is her life's mission; along with being the exact image of a perfect daughter, girl and person, to make me feel like shit." You paused shifting so your weight was slowly and surely pressing upon him, "It was- it was probably because of the pictures I posted last week of me, Steph, Cass and Barabra."
He was motionless this time and still silent. Fiddling with your belt you waited a moment more before replying to him.
"You must have a rather elevated opinion of yourself if you think she would care about something so minuscule y/n- no V/n."
This got a soft- barely audible laugh from him. Taking the second it escaped to bask in the sound and feeling of his body shuddering as he tried to hold it back and you let out a breath. It was relaxing being here with him, talking half to yourself while he listened. It was peaceful and quiet, something you found your cherished. However, the quiet would not last long, so you continued on.
"You see Da- Robin, I would agree with that except she not only was one of the first people to like it, but when it started getting a lot of likes she commented, 'So proud of how far you've come! I hope you'll be home for my ceremony next month!'. Now I have a question for you, is that something someone who doesn't give a shit does?"
This time he moved, shifting so your sides pressed together and faces nearly touched. His brow was furrowed and gaze dark. You blinked in surprise but merely tilted your head.
"What?" He muttered something tense in his voice.
"She commented on my photos of my girl's day with Steph, Cass and Barabra, 'So proud of how far you've come. I hope you'll be home for my ceremony next month. Kinda seems off right?"
Robin scowled as he looked away from you, but not at the city, no he looked at the rooftop, his jaw locking. You weakly laughed and turned so his side was pressed against your back.
"I don't know about you, but that sounds fairly passive aggressive. And I know I'm not the world's greatest detective or his kid, but... that does not seem like something you'd comment on your sibling's post."
Robin grunted and you shut your eyes for a moment, happy tonight was tranquil enough that you could feel the quiet. Every moment that pulsed between the two of you was raw and unimpeded. You could hear every one of his breaths, feel the expanding and contracting of his chest and feel the heat of his body pressed against yours fighting off the chill of the night.
"It is... odd." He finally replied.
You snorted, opening your eyes to see him looking at you, his brows creased with concern.
"That is an understatement if I've ever heard one."
He rolled his eyes snorting as you sat up yawning. Stretching out you faintly heard the beep of the coms, a voice crackling in your ears.
"V/N, Robin, if everything is clear you two are good to go for the night."
Patting your mouth, you nodded making brief eye contact with Robin before you stretched some more, "Alright, thank you very much Oracle!"
Oracle's voice instantly replied, "Of course, get some rest Y/N."
You smiled, shooting Robin a wink as you snagged the small bag you carried with you throughout patrol.
"Yes mam! I will see the both of you tomorrow!"
A soft laugh echoed through the coms before everything went silent, you turned and bounded down the stairs to the closest empty room, changing back into your civilian clothes and placing your vigilante gear into the bag.
Now appropriately dressed, you began your trek home. Which luckily for you, was less than ten minutes tonight. Taking in the night air you bounced and twirled walking down the sidewalk before you arrived at your complex.
Walking inside you began your assent to your apartment; sure, nothing could ruin your night. However, as you made it to your floor you found a figure with bags standing nearby your door.
"Uh, hi," brow furrowed, you slowly approached the figure, "can I help you?"
At the sound of your voice the figure snapped up stepping enough into the dim light that you could see it was a girl- a familiar girl who perked up at the sight of you.
"Y/N!"
You felt the blood drain from your face as the girl raced up and pulled you into a hug. Your head began to spin as you fought to breathe normally.
"What are you doing here?" You weakly asked as the girl released you grinning brightly.
"I'm here to surprise you silly!" She laughed as she pulled on your arm, "I haven't seen you in what feels like forever, so I wanted to come by! I thought it'd be fun to hang out and see how your life is here. Maybe you can give me a tour of the city and introduce me to your friends."
You nodded half understanding what she was saying, still in shock at the sight of her, "Uh-huh."
"Y/N, come on! It's late we should get inside... speaking of where have you been?"
"Work- uh work I work nights most of the time. I usually get back around 4ish," You began, walking towards your apartment.
She nodded in understanding as she pulled her suitcase towards your door waiting for you to open it. Hands slightly shaking you put the key in the lock and twisted pulling down on the handle. With a weak flourish you gestured to the apartment.
"Welcome to Gotham... S/N."
"I'm so excited!" She squealed, wheeling her things in, "we are going to have so much fun."
"So much," You weakly echoed heart dropping as you almost saw your new life going up in flames.
______________________________________________________________
It was unfortunate to say the least that not only was your sister in town, but she wanted to meet your friends. You didn't have many friends outside of the other vigilantes and were nervous to explain that you were friends with the Waynes and never said anything about it.
Part of you wanted to brag and shove it in her face, but you knew that not only was rude but would do nothing. If you were lucky, she would be acquaintances with them in the end... if you weren't.... let's just say you wouldn't be able to have your fun little chats on patrols anymore.
You knew that Damian would never abandon you... at least intentionally. You wanted the two to meet so he could see how all you spoke about was true! So, someone else could tell you, you weren't insane. So that you could feel a sense of relief that you weren't making all this up. But you feared- you so deeply feared he'd choose her over you. You were terrified of being abandoned again for your sister.
Regardless, you knew you had to introduce them at some point because there was no way Damian was going to allow you to not speak to him for that long.
So, after an extensive two-day tour of Gotham and pointing out all of the best places to shop, eat or just relax (despite how few there were) you made your way to the Wayne manor for a brunch of sorts with everyone. To introduce your sister and finally get over with the fear.
Tapping your fingers against the steering wheel you tried to listen to your sister's ramble, but your stomach was churning.
"Sooo," She said, "After this brunch I'm going to go and meet up with some online friends... will you be okay without me?"
You tensed, but slowly nodded, "Oh, yeah! I should be okay. I probably can talk with my boss and ask for some time off so we can continue to hang while you're here. And I run a couple of errands."
S/N nodded, shooting you looks as you pulled into the Wayne's neighborhood. She furrowed her brow as you reached their driveway and the gates opened. You began to go up the driveway when she let out a slight gasp.
"Wait, is this... is this Wayne manor?!"
You nodded your chest tightening, "Uh yeah. I thought I told you I'm friends with the Waynes."
Her jaw dropped as she stared in awe at the manor. You wanted to laugh at her expression, but your nerves were wound so tight you feared it might end in you crying.
"We- we are having brunch with the Waynes?!"
"Well, a few of them. Bruce is busy at work and I'm pretty sure so's Tim. Dick is in Bludhaven. And j-" You stopped yourself recalling Jason wasn't legally alive, "and I think the rest should be joining us, along with a friend I think."
S/N did not move, her eyes wide as you pulled to a stop parking. From here you could see Alfred standing in the doorway. You gave him a quick wave and he returned it with a smile.
Unbuckling, you turned the car off and slid out of it. S/N scrambled to get out as you closed your door. She blinked a few times, shaking her head as you locked the car and began your way to the front door.
"How- how are you friends with the Waynes?" S/N whispered, having clamped onto your arm.
"Uhhh long story, I mean technically work. My boss- he uh... he put me on a project, and I ended up meeting Damian and we hit it off pretty well and I ended up meeting the rest and the same happened." You spat out your prepared lie, noticing the way she tensed upon you saying Damian's name.
"Damian... he's the youngest right?" She muttered as you began to climb up the steps.
"Yup!"
"Miss Y/N, Miss Y/N's sister, it is a pleasure to have you dine with us this morning." Alfred said, holding the door open.
You smiled and gave him a nod, "Alfred this is S/N, S/N this is Alfred Pennyworth he is the butler here and the one who actually runs things."
S/N giggled as she released you to give Alfred a curtsy. He gave you a look as she was bent, and you shrugged. The two of you then walked into the manor a clattering of shouts and chatter coming from the dining room nearby.
"Y/N IS HERE!" A delighted Steph bellowed before bouncing around the corner and bolting towards you.
S/N stepped back as Steph flung herself at you, with surprising ease you caught Steph with a laugh. She grinned wildly as a few more people rounded the corner.
"Looks like all your training is paying off!" Steph giggled as you set her down.
She then paused seeing your sister and smiled, holding out her hand, "Hi! I'm Stephanie but you can call me Steph!"
Your sister's expression instantly lightened, and she took Steph's hand shaking it.
"I'm S/N, Y/N's sister."
Steph released her hand and nodded, "Nice to meet you."
A few beats of silence occurred, and you noticed Cass, Duke and Damian, all approaching you.
"Yo, Duke!" You said almost subconsciously, "It's been a while, how are you man?"
You walked towards Duke giving him a quick side hug as he laughed. You felt Damian's eyes bearing into you, but you ignored it.
"I'm good! You know how it is, school and work. It has been a while, what about you?"
"I'm good, pretty much the same," But you paused as you turned to see your sister shooting you daggers, "My sister is in town. Duke this is S/N, S/N this is Duke! He is one of the chillest people in Gotham and the best writer I know!"
Duke flustered slightly as your sister smiled bounding towards him.
"Hi! It is so nice to meet you! I'm S/N!"
Cass waved hello and you waved back as Damian stopped at your side. Your nerves were twisting tighter as your sister looked to you, her eyes brightening upon seeing Damian.
"That's Cass, she is amazingly talented... oh man if she had one, I would take you to see one of her ballet shows."
Your sister nodded clearly not interested in Cass, she eyed Damian and you noticed Duke and Steph sharing troubled looks.
"And this is?"
"Damian Wayne, it's a pleasure to meet you S/N."
He took the hand she offered out and shook it. You were still as Damian's arm brushed past you, your heart racing. Silence seemed to buzz in your ears before Alfred cleared his throat. You blinked and turned.
"Uh, Is it time to eat alf- Alfred?"
Alfred nodded and you turned towards the dining room feeling Damian's not so subtle grip on your arm, "Why don't we go eat?"
Steph instantly grabbed onto your sister and began asking her questions. She shot Damian looks before caving in and allowing her to guide her away. Duke and Cass followed behind them leaving only you and Damian.
"Are you alright?" He muttered.
"Yeah yeah," You weakly replied, "I- i just wasn't expecting her."
He looked you over his brow furrowing before he nodded, "Alright."
The two of you stared in silence before you felt your face flush.
"Uh, okay let's go eat!"
You felt his grip leave your arm and you hurried to the dining room to find only two seats open. One next to your sister and one next to Cass, across from your sister. You sat down next to her watching as Damian took the seat across from her.
"So!" S/N instantly said, "I'm assuming you've heard all about me so why don't you tell me about yourselves?"
"Actually," Steph chirped, smiling, "Y/N doesn't talk about you guys often... none of us do. It's kinda like an unspoken rule. After all, Bruce adopted half of them and I- let's just say family troubles aren't fun!"
You had to resist a laugh at your sister's outraged expression and quickly drink from a glass of water to hide your amusement.
"Oh," S/N faltered, shaking her head, "that's okay! I just thought that Y/N would talk about us, I mean we used to be so close...anyways uh what do you guys like to do?"
You turned so she wouldn't see your eyes roll, it was clear- at least to you- she was trying to get the other's pity. Make them feel bad for her and be angry at you. Fortunately, they did not fall for such weak tricks.
"It'd be weird if she did when we have a rule about it but okay!" Steph continued, "a little about me hmmm, oh! I love sports and waffles; my favorite color is purple, and my favorite vigilante is Black Bat!"
Your sister slightly flinched before putting on her sweetest smile, "Oh that is so cool! Though... I don't know a lot about Gotham's vigilantes."
This time Duke chimed in, "That's okay, just pick someone you know. As Y/N said I'm a writer, I enjoy poetry and music; my favorite color is probably yellow, and my favorite vigilante is The Signal."
You had to practically shove your fist into your mouth to stop this laugh, your sister nodded looking a little deflated. She then turned to Damian- hesitated and looked at Cass.
"What about you?"
Cass blinked a few times before signing, "I like ballet, black and Spoiler is my favorite."
Your sister blinked a few times and you coughed to hide a laugh before you watched Damian pipe up.
"She speaks sign language, she just said she likes ballet the color black and that her favorite vigilante is Spoiler."
Something in you slipped a bit and your smile nearly dropped as all the laughter left you. Your sister grinned leaning on her arm as she nodded.
"That is very cool. So, you know, sign Damian?"
"All of us do, even Y/N." Duke replied with a shrug.
Your sister turned to you with a surprised look on her face, and you flushed feeling your stomach drop.
"I-I-uh learned so I could talk to Cass. I- I ended up accidentally catching her while practicing and it- it was ... she was so amazing I wanted to compliment her. She understood but- I wanted to talk with her, you know? Be able to hear her words and see her interpretation of the dance."
Something flickered in your sister's eyes, and she nodded her smile looking a little forced as she turned back to Damian, her brow raised.
"I do believe that you should go first, after all it is poor manners to make our guest go last."
She blinked twice before her smile brightened and she nodded, "Oh of course! That makes so much sense. Uh well... I'm in a little bit of everything. Fashion, art, music, science, math, sports. My favorite color has to be blue and uh... Batman is my favorite vigilante."
You bit your lip hard to stop yourself from bursting into a fit of giggles. Damian made eye contact with you, and you could see the amusement in his eyes as you pressed your hand to your face.
"Okay, Y/n it's your turn!" Steph declared, causing you to instantly drop your hand.
"What?"
"It's not fair if you're the only one who doesn't do it!"
"Uh," You hesitated, feeling your sisters' eyes locked on your face, "Okay I guess."
You looked up meeting Damian's gaze for a moment before you looked at everyone else.
"I uh... I like Gotham, my job, spending time with you all and uh my favorite color is f/c."
Silence followed and Steph leaned on the table locking eyes with you.
"What about your favorite vigilante?"
Part of you stirred, tempted to say your own vigilante name when you had a sense of guilt wash over you. It wasn't really fair to your sister, was it? She only knew Batman and- and and now you were trying to find a reasonable way to pick Robin, weren't you?
You shrugged, "Uh I guess I'd have to say Robin since, despite the many different ones, he's just as consistent as Batman."
Steph narrowed her eyes and Damian looked at you, surprise faintly on his face. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed your sister rolling her eyes. She then leaned forwards, capturing Damians attention.
"Your turn Baby Wayne."
You winced at the nickname catching Steph and Duke miming gagging motions and shook at your held back more laughter.
"Alright," Damian said, "I enjoy art, it is so intriguing to see the different depictions of peoples inner most toils. I also revel in animals and taking care of them. While I find picking favorites childish, I will partake out of fairness. Green would have to be the most suitable color and..."
Damian stopped, looking at you for a moment before he looked at your sister.
"I would have to say V/N seems the most competent out of the newer vigilantes."
You felt a very faint blush rise on your cheeks and your sister giggled in delight.
"Oh really? That is so interesting. I love art too! And green is such an amazing color."
Damian nodded as she smiled coyly, the door to the kitchen swinging open as Alfred walked out with trays of plates in his hands. You noticed how your sister watched Damian look at Alfred, his brow slightly furrowing, before she darted up.
"Oh Mr. Pennyworth let me help you with that."
You noticed Damian's eyes following her as she approached, also Alfred's tight grin as he opened his mouth to protest but decided not to stop her from taking a tray from his hands and setting it on the table.
You knew how much Alfred prided himself on being able to take care of the household. Down to even setting food out he found it... offensive when people forced help upon him. He didn't mind if you offered, you recalled once offering to help wash dishes and his soft nod. But when people force their help- he had told you it seems as though they are saying he is not good enough- too old or incapable of carrying out his duties.
Wincing you dug your nails into your palm as your sister continued to "help" Alfred out. Thanking your lucky stars once everything was set out and she finally returned to her seat. With that, you all began to plate up food and dig in.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
It was around 5 pm when your phone buzzed, the familiar name flashing across the screen with all the familiar words. You were needed for patrol. Your sister had been out almost all day, her internet friends showing her their favorite spots and getting all the "tea" about her brunch at Wayne manor a few days before.
You were a tad frustrated she was using your friends to gain popularity but decided she could dig her own grave. However, upon receiving the text you knew you had to tell her you wouldn't be home until late at the very least. After all she was staying at your place... even if she was never there.
You sent a message back essentially saying you'd be there for patrol, then you shot your sister a text right before you left.
Y/N: Hey! I just wanted to let you know my boss called me in tonight. Apparently, they don't have anyone else who can cover my shift. So, I'll be getting home late.
She did not reply but you could see that the message was read, sighing as you gathered your things and headed to the cave knowing you couldn't expect to be able to leave your stuff around here for much longer.
With your bag hoisted over your shoulder you headed to Wayne manor. Finding Tim on the bat computer and Oracle on your coms.
"Looks like I've got double the help tonight, " You weakly joked.
Neither of them replied so you got dressed, commed up and headed out, half expecting Damian to already be out there. You, however, were surprised to discover that he was not at your normal spot. So, you assumed he was out chasing a criminal or watching from someplace else. Bouncing around the rooftops you looked for any sight of him.
You could have sworn you spotted a flash of his classic colors in the alleyway and descended to investigate. The alley was musty and wet, probably from the rain the night before. Looking around you didn't see any sign of Robin.
"Looks like fifth street's clear," You muttered into the com.
As you readied yourself to go back to the rooftops a figure lunged at you from the shadows, slamming you onto the ground a glint following him as he did.
"Oh shit!" You hissed your finger sliding from the com as a frantic voice began on the other end.
The figure- no, the thug raised the glint, and you realized it was a knife. Fear raced through your veins, and you instinctively pressed your distress signal. The adrenaline coursing over you and drowning out the voices on the other end of the coms.
"Come on you stupid bitch," The thug snarled, "just die already!"
He went to thrust the blade down, but you yanked your leg up and shoved him off of you. Scrambling to your feet as he fell backwards. A snarl of sorts escaped him, and you watched as he rose blade ready in hand. He swung at you again and you barely dodged, your brain beginning to wonder where the hell Robin was and why he wasn't here to help you already.
While in your stupor of thought the thug lashed out again, his blade barely catching your arm, but slicing right through your gear and causing a burst of pain and blood to spill from your arm. You blinked, shaking your head as you tried to focus.
The thug readied himself for another strike and you kicked outwards, sending your foot directly for the knife. You felt the impact into his hand and heard his cursing as the knife went flying backward. You landed and felt your lungs screaming as the thug cursed louder.
Was Robin even coming? What the hell was going on, wasn't he your partner? Wasn't he supposed to be there for you in the most dangerous of moments and you there for him?!
You turned, hoping to get to a more open area so that... that if he was actually coming Damian would be able to see you easier.
However, something grabbed your hair yanking you backwards, you stumbled passed the thug heart racing as you scrambled to your feet. You backed away a bit more hoping to catch the thug off guard. You looked over your shoulder then turned back.
A fist swung out hitting your face, you recoiled chest heaving as the heartbreaking realization you were all alone dawned on you. He wasn't coming.
Reaching up you grabbed onto a fire escape ladder and swung yourself forwards kicking the thug in the chest and sending him skittering backwards. You half climbed up fingers latching onto some round you could not see, and hands grabbed onto your legs. In an act of frantic reaction. You release your grip on the latter allowing the thug to pull you down. however, as you went you slammed the object into his head hearing his faint grunt before slamming into the ground. The heavy thud noise told you he was down for the count.
Spitting out blood, you rose to your feet wobbling as the thug twitched on the ground. Something hot burned in you, and you swung your foot forwards, straight into the thug's gut causing them to go stiff.
Chest heaving and breaths more like pants, you wiped the blood away from your mouth as you heard frantic voices over the coms.
"V/N! V/N are you alright?"
Heaving out a sigh you nodded slowly and answered, "I've been better."
"Thank god, backup will be there soon, hang tight."
"I have a question."
"Uh yeah?"
"Where the fuck is Dam- where is he?"
There was silence and you felt your blood begin to boil. They knew, they knew where he was, but he didn't have the decency to tell you he wasn't going to be going out tonight.
"He's-... he's out." Tim stammered.
"I'm shocked, you are covering for him. Since when would that-" You faltered as you pressed a hand to your bleeding nose.
Oracle voice broke through your rising haze, "He's on a date with your sister."
"What?"
"He's on a date with your sister. He didn't think he'd be gone for so long. He told me he'd be back in time." Oracle remarked calmly.
You swallow, feeling something in you begin to shatter, “My sister?"
Silence followed on the coms, and you closed your eyes for a second remembering her coy smile at him just the other day. And-and how his eyes followed her.
of course... of course he's with her.
"Where are they?" You whispered feeling your throat begin to ache.
"Y/N I don't-"
"Where. Are. They?"
"At the restaurant just past the park, the little Grecian style place."
Your- your favorite restaurant. They were at your favorite restaurant. You bite your lip, feeling your hands curl, nails pressing into your palms.
"Y/N don't do anything stupid."
You hissed, shaking your head, "I'm not, I just... I just wanna see it with my own eyes. ... since when, have I ever not been levelheaded?"
Despite what you had said your heart shattered as your mind screamed. Over and over again
I knew it, I knew it, I knew it
Trembling, you waited before bounding towards the restaurant. You skittered to a stop on the rooftop across from the restaurant. It took less than a minute to see them sitting at a table near the windows.
The coms went silent, and you stared through the window. Watching the two laugh together. Damian oblivious to the time and your sister's eyes glinting as she pressed a hand onto his arm. It was a tactic you knew well and noting Damian's back- his body language, it was working. You should have known, when it comes to your sister… you will never be the first choice.
You should have known she will always be chosen over you. You took in a shaky breath.
"Y/N... are you okay?"
"D-don't tell him." You whispered feeling something warm slip down your face.
"What?"
"Don't- act like this- tonight, never happened. Please. Pretend this didn't happen that I don't know... please." Your voice cracked as you moved away from the restaurant.
There was more silence than a clicking sound.
"Tracking data and video footage are gone. Com records will be shredded once tonight's over." Oracle remarks, "what do you want us to tell him?"
"Tell-tell him that you told me he wasn't coming, and I decided to take the night off. Tell him that Nightwing and Hood went out and everything was fine."
"Alright...you should probably go home Y/N."
"Okay... I'll see you all tomorrow."
______________________________________________________________
Curled on a couch in the Wayne manor library, your eyes darted towards the door, you weren't even attempting to pay attention to the book in your grasps. You knew- knew Damian would be in here soon. And then- then you would be able to ask him what he was doing. To see if he'd try and keep it from you.
At first you weren't even going to mention the other night but... your sister had bragged- bragged about her date. Claiming that Damian had told her all sorts of awful things he thought about you. And to prove it, you should ask Damian if the two of them went out. While you knew what she said wasn't true. Damian wasn't the type to badmouth someone behind their back. Instead, he'd say it to their face, and you'd never heard anything actually awful from him. And to make it all worse, your sister declared as she left, she would be coming back after her ceremony. That- that she had things-people who she couldn't leave behind. That you had no idea what to think of, but you were unsure of whether what she said was the truth. Unsure and uninterested.
However, part of you was .... curious. Curious as to whether or not he'd tell you. He'd be honest and say that he liked your sister, that he was attracted to her. And even though it would be painful to hear, you wanted so desperately wanted him to. You hoped and prayed and begged fate, the universe and God for him to tell you.
You didn't want to lose yet another friend... no, no despite how much it hurt to think of now. Damian was so much more than a friend.
It should have been obvious to you. With how much you craved his presences and adored his smile. How you took almost every opportunity to lean against him and hear his heartbeat. How your heart would flutter when his hand brushed yours or when he said your name. God, were you always this sappy?
Groaning you pressed your face into the book, of course you just had to notice these feelings when your sister came.
"What did that book ever do to deserve, you slamming your face into it?" A familiar voice asked causing your head to snap up.
You swallowed meeting Damian's eyes with a weak laugh, "Nothing... I'm just- it's been a long week."
Damian nodded before sitting down, right next to you. Before- before your epiphany, you would not have realized how close Damian was in a setting as simple as this. And with how you were sitting it'd be hard for him to not be sitting that close.
"I concur." He replied opening his sketch book.
You shifted shooting him a few glances, part of you hoped he'd just tell you without questioning. Another part just wanted to stare at his face for a while. To take in his presence and relax. But you couldn't. Not with all these questions and worries bubbling at your mind.
"What do you wish to say Y/N?" Damian remarked finally looking up and directly into your eyes.
You froze feeling your entire face flush as you dropped your book and stuttered.
"Oh! I- I-uhm... I was just wondering what you were up to the other night patrol got called off. Usually, you asked me to come help you with some of your sketches but that night-" Before you could even finish, he interrupted you.
"I was with Colin and Jon. They wished to spend time together since we are 'friends'."
Something bitter was suddenly on your tongue as you recalled him sitting across from your sister at the restaurant, the image of his back searing int your mind.
"Really?"
"Yes, what did you find yourself doing?"
"Just reading," You mumbled eyes dropping as you felt the air leave your chest.
He was lying. Lying to you.
It almost seemed as if the world came crashing down around you as his words- his lies blared over and over and over again in your mind. A burning was in your throat, and you found yourself struggling to breathe as a single question repeated over and over and over.
Why?
Why?
Why?
Was it because he had... he had feelings for her? If so, why couldn't he just be honest? Was it because he was scared of the way you'd react? Did he not trust you? Was it because your sister was telling the truth? She was coming back to Gotham because of Damian? Were they- were they going to be in a relationship? If so, why was he hiding it, why was he lying?
Your head spun with questions and worries as your heart shattered in your chest, the realization crashing down on you. She did it again. She had taken another person from you.
You in took sharply and Damian placed a hand on your arm.
"Are you alright?"
"Uh? Oh yeah, " You lied blinking slowly, "just tired. I really wasn't expecting S/N to come."
"Maybe you should get some rest." Damian softly replied.
You nodded your mind screaming as your heart raced. You- you couldn't take this anymore. There had to be a change. Something-something had to be different.
Rising slowly, you picked your book up and set it on the couch absentmindedly waving goodbye.
"I'll see you later." You muttered as your heart jumped to your throat.
"Yes, of course... shall I tell Kent and Wilkes you say hello?"
You froze in the doorway of the library as a plan began forming in your mind. You looked over your shoulder seeing Damian's eyes locked on you. You smiled and nodded,
"Of course."
With that you walked out of the room, down the hall. Then- then you were running, running down the stairs and to an office. Panting you bit your lip and squeezed your fists.
With a heavy breath you pushed the door to the office open and made eye contact with none other then Bruce Wayne.
"Y/N, what do I owe the pleasure?" He asked his brow furrowed slight concern on his face as he took in your disheveled figure.
"I wouldn't call this meeting a pleasurable one," You softly began before raising your chin, "Mr. Wayne, we really need to talk."
~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~
The air was fresh, and you took in a deep breath hoping to admire the beginning of a new day, unfortunately that was not in today's cards. Your phone buzzed and you swallowed seeing his name flash across the screen. Slowly letting the air leave you, you answered and pressed the phone to your ear,
"Hello?" You mumbled, only to hear Damian's prompt inquiry instead of a greeting.
"You are acting rather irregular as of late, is there something that has been disturbing you?"
"No, no I'm not and I'm fine... unless you know of something that might make me act strange?"
"I do not understand what you are speaking of. Are you implying there is something I have done to make you act irregular?"
You went silent grinding your teeth as you shook your head, resisting the urge to pull your phone away from your face, "Nevermind... why did you call?"
"I was curious as to why you have been avoiding me. And before you go on blathering that nonsense that you are not, I know you are."
"Why does it matter?"
"You are always saying that we are...how did you put it? Ah yes, best friends. Am I wrong in saying such acquaintances should keep in contact and even spend time together?"
"You're not wrong in saying that best friends do that."
"Then what am I wrong in saying? That much is evident by your choice of words."
"That we are best friends."
"Pardon?" Damian voice sharpened causing you to swallow.
"I'm not your best friend Damian... at least not anymore. I-I don't consider us best friends."
"Then what exactly am I to you now?"
"That... that is what you are concerned about? Not why I suddenly changed by mind or that it might have been because of something you've done?"
"Y/N, if you wish to tell me something, say it. I do not care for you beating around the bush as they put it."
"You lied to me Damian." You calmly stated feeling tears building up in your throat.
He went silent before replying his voice trembling just enough to tell you he was lying. "What on earth do you mean?"
"You're lying again..." You paused closing your eyes, "Damian, I know you too well for that bullshit to work. You lied to me about what you were doing the other night. I know you were with my sister... I know you were, on a date with her."
"I-" Damian began, before stopping
There was more silence, and you squeezed your hand into a fist, silent and painful tears spilling from your eyes, "You betrayed me. I-I should have known you were going too, that you would. Everyone- everyone always does... they always chose my sister over me. They always decide to put her first even if I was friends with them originally."
"I do not understand how going out with your sister is betraying you."
"That's the best part Damian, it's not. But lying to me about it, helping feed into my sister's taunts and torments-"
"I never fed into that, I would never Y/N. This- this is all a- a misunderstanding."
You ignored him and pressed on, "Abandoning me when I needed you most, when my life was in danger... to be with my sister at a place- a place I showed you... that is one of the most utter betrayals."
Damian went quiet and you squeezed your eyes shut finally, finally letting him know what actually occurred that night.
"I went on patrol that night, I got ambushed and attacked and and- I waited for you." You heard your voice crack as your crying spilled over into your throat, "but you never came. God, I felt like such a fool, especially when I found out you were with her. I feel like such a fool."
"Y/N I-"
"Do you know what makes this all-worse Damian? Do you know what hurt the most? What burns so deeply it hurts to even fucking breathe?"
He was silent on the other end, and you continued, half sobbing as you did,
"I actually thought that you'd come, I actually thought that you cared. I actually thought that you- that you would be different and that- that-"
You took a slow breath, "I actually thought you might return my feelings. I thought for once- for once my sister couldn't take something -someone I love from me. Yet here we are."
Damian in took but you blazed forwards knowing what he was going to say, you'd heard it all before too many times.
"I know- I know!" You seethed, "She's not just anyone and it makes me wonder, what- no who am I then? Who am I too you Damian?"
He didn't reply and you hiccupped pressing a hand to your face so- so thankful you decided to do this over a call instead of saying all of it in person.
"I know who I am, even if you don't know who I am to you. I am not the quiet girl who I use to be." You muttered looking up towards the rising sun, the pit in your stomach both growing and weakening, "I will not sit aside as my sister tramples over everything and takes what remains. And I am definitely not the girl who is going to stay friends with, let alone partners with someone who knows how I feel about my sister and chose to... and chose her. You chose her over me. Despite all we've been through you lied to me. And-and what hurts the most is had you told me... had you told me the truth? I wouldn't have cared. But you hid it and tried to make it seem as though you were on my side. You- I- I love you, Damian. Actually, and truly love you. In a romantic way. And had you told me the truth- had you not lied... let's just say I wouldn't be leaving Gotham."
"What?!"
"I, am leaving Gotham. I already resigned as a vigilante.... she is planning on returning after her ceremony and I-I can't live with the sight of the two of you together... not- not with feeling what I feel." You in took a breath hoping that this heart wrenching- this heartbreak would be quick so that in- in your new home you'd be able to start fresh.
"Where will you be?" Something almost sounded frantic in Damian's voice, but you must have been imagining it.
"I will be leaving, going somewhere my sister has- well to quote her, 'have been to enough for a lifetime.' You don't need to worry I won't try and hold this over you... in fact after this call I'm getting rid of my phone."
"I will- I will not stand for this!" Damian snarled his voice cracking on the other end, "you will stay here."
"You don't control me Damian... if fact. If I'm being completely honest after all of this- after what's happened. You mean nothing to me." The lie was bitter on your lips, and you bit your tongue to hide your sobs.
"Y/N... forgive me. It's just I-...You don't understand- please. Please,
He sounded so desperate it made your heart ache in a different way, but you couldn't let him get to you, you'd come so far, "Please allow me to explain. I beg of you."
"No," You softly replied digging your nails into your palm, "No. I won't hear any explanations. I won't listen to your honey coated lies because I'm sick of it Damian. I am sick of being used and disposed of. I'm sick of being the second choice, I am sick of being thrown away the second people find 'something better'.
"I made a mistake, please."
"Are you sure it was that you made a mistake and not that you were caught lying?"
Damian went quiet and you had to press your hand to your mouth to stop more cries from escaping.
"Goodbye Damian, despite all that's happened... despite all you've done, I hope you have a good life."
"Y/N no please I-"
You ended the call before you could hear the end of his sentence. Removing the sim card from your phone, you took in a breath then threw your phone into the nearest trash can.
Pressing your back against the complex's wall you buried your face into your hands and sobbed. Letting all of your emotions and feelings out. It was a matter of seconds before someone was hovering over you and you looked up to see your new roommate's concerned face.
"Are you okay Y/N?"
"Yeah, " You nodded wiping the tears from your face as you hiccupped, "I'm... I'm much better. Thank you... seriously, thank you so much Jon."
Jon Kent sighed with a weak nod as he gave you another look over.
"Of course, I'm always happy to help out a friend... especially one who is willing to help me cut my rent in half."
You weakly laughed before rising to your feet, wiping all the stray tears from your face.
"I'm happy to have a place to stay."
Jon nodded again looking you over before he turned towards the city, "How about I give you a tour to get your mind off things?"
"Tour? hmm, yeah that sounds good. Let's do a tour."
"Alright, but first," Jon smiled as he gestured to the city, "Welcome to Metropolis Y/N."
Tag List:
@andromedaj2003 @thomasbeloved @instabull @zvtanna @daemonnix96 @krswrites @thefallingstarlights @masset-fotia @neon-scenery @ssak-i @legendarylearner18
#batfam#batboys#y/n#reader#damian wayne#batboys x y/n#alfred pennyworth#stephenie brown#cassandra cain#duke thomas#bruce wayne#damian wayne x y/n#y/n x damian wayne#reader x damian wayne#damian wayne x reader#robin x reader#robin#angst#one-shot#technically#sister slander#enjoy the technical cliff hanger#speculate all you want#i will answer no questions#only requests#hehehehehe#this may or may not have actually made me laugh out loud#it is supperrr angsty in some ways#and like not in others#I have no regrests
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