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ellecdc · 1 month

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hi! so i was wondering if i could make a request of poly!jegulus x reader fic where the reader goes out to maybe a bachelorette party or smth and gets drunk and james and regulus takes care of her afterwards? if not then no worries! hope you have an amazing day!

thanks so much darling! I love our little Jegulus fics <3

please note: my requests are currently closed as I finish exams and work through the requests that I currently have.

poly!Jegulus x fem!reader who they pick up from a bachelorette

Regulus tried to ignore the strobe lights and the booming bass that currently accosted his senses as he pushed through the masses of sweaty bodies and drunk people “dancing” in his mission to find you.

Fortunately he needn’t search long.

Unfortunately, his and James’ appearance elicited blood curdling squealing from the bachelorette party you were currently attending.

The bride (Alice) and maid of honour (Lily) started wolf whistling at the two boys and Regulus was certain it was Marlene who started the chant “take it off!”

Much to Regulus’ chagrin and to everyone else's joy, James actually started lifting his shirt before Regulus pinched him harshly in the side.

“James Fleamont Potter, you keep your sodding clothes on!” Regulus hissed before his eyes finally landed on you.

He ignored what sounded like a petulant “I was only giving the ladies what they wanted” from James as he crouched in front of you.

Regulus tried (and failed) to control his love sick smile as your foggy gaze cleared when you realised who was suddenly situated in front of you.

“Regulus!” You cheered, your mouth hanging open in a permanent smile as if you couldn’t possibly believe he was truly here.

“And James!” James added as he sat beside you on the pleather settee and roughly pulled you into his side.

“What are you guys doing here?” You slurred slightly as you looked lovingly between your two boyfriends.

Regulus felt his eyebrows pinch, but James - ever the master of nonchalance - simply pressed a kiss to your hair. “You asked us to come for you, angel.” He explained plainly.

Your eyebrows pinched to match Regulus’ as you let out a quiet “oh.”

“Well, that was ver-very smart of me.” You declared through a hiccup.

“Yeah? Why’s that?” James asked as he rubbed your arm and Regulus confirmed that all of your belongings were safely stored within your purse.

“I was just thinking how much I, how much I would like to be home with my boys now.” You admitted in a sigh, letting your head - which seemed to weigh far too much for your neck - fall onto James’ all-too-willing shoulder.

“Awe, you’re such a sweetheart, aren’t you?” James murmured, earning him a snort from Dorcas.

“Right, you’ve got yourself a real sweetheart there Potter - which one of you taught her how to play poker?” Dorcas sneered, causing James to bark a laugh, you to hide shyly into his shoulder, and Regulus to grin proudly.

“Did you take them for all they’re worth, amour?” He whispered as he encouraged your face from its sanctuary in James with a gentle hand on your chin.

“Of course she did.” James answered for you, blowing a cheeky raspberry over your head at your friends. “She’s an all-star.”

Dorcas laughed good naturedly as Lily rolled her eyes fondly. “That may be; but she’s officially banned from playing with us.”

“Fair enough.” Regulus admitted as he smiled at your petulant pout and helped you stand like a baby fawn in your heels.

“How’s everyone else getting home?” James asked the other girls as he supported you with a gentle arm around your waist.

Dorcas, Marlene, and Pandora were getting a ride from Barty and Evan, and Lily, Mary, and Alice were getting picked up by Frank.

After far too many hugs and cheek kisses and what looked like the beginning of tears on Pandora’s part as Regulus finally pried you away from the group, you clumsily made your way into the back of Regulus’ waiting car with James.

“Did you have fun tonight, sweets?” James asked as he ensured your buckle was properly clasped.

“Oh, yes.” You declared breathlessly; as if being chaperoned to the car, basically lifted in and buckled up was exhausting work.

The streets were quiet at this time of night and Regulus enjoyed the comfortable silence that came over the three of you as he stole sneaky glances over his shoulder, sharing soft smiles with James at having their girl back.

“What time is it?” You asked urgently; you tone and words suddenly sounding half-sober as you interrupted the serenity of the car.

“It’s almost three, amour.” Regulus answered, peaking in the rearview mirror to see you staring straight ahead and James looking at the side of your face concernedly as Regulus navigated the quiet, lamp lit streets.

“In the morning!?” You shrilled, causing James to snort a laugh and rub at your hairline with his thumb as he rested his hand at the nape of your neck.

“Yes, baby. In the morning; that’s usually when the party’s over, yeah?”

“Did I wake you guys up?” You asked far too shyly for Regulus’ liking.

“Of course not, amour.” Regulus responded quickly, which was followed up with a “we stayed up waiting for you” from James.

Regulus heard a disbelieving breath escape your lips, the sound of James pressing a kiss to your hair, and then nothing but the sound of the tires on the road beneath you for a few moments.

Suddenly, disturbingly, upsettingly; he heard a sniffle.

Regulus immediately took his foot off the gas as he looked at you through the mirror to find your face pointed down in your lap and James leaning forward in an attempt to see your face.

“What’s the matter, angel?”

“Do you feel okay?” Regulus asked quickly, worrying you may be sick.

“I feel fine.” You cried quietly; Regulus could just make out what looked like the fall of a fat tear from your eyes where your head was lowered.

“What are the tears for, sweetheart?” James asked again, trying to encourage you to face him which you stubbornly refused.

“Why is she crying, Jamie?” Regulus asked desperately.

He pretended he didn’t see James shoot him an unimpressed look in the rearview mirror.

“Amour?” He whispered which elicited a quiet sob from you.

Regulus - only slightly unsafely - hastily pulled onto a side street and parked the car before he moved out of his seat, opened your door and crouched beside you.

“Amour, please darling. What’s wrong?”

“Do you feel sick?” James asked, still rubbing affectionately at the nape of your neck. You quickly shook your head no.

Regulus was at least a little relieved you weren’t about to sick up on him.

“Why are you crying, mon cheri?” He whispered, moving a lock of your hair behind your ear and tracing his thumb across your cheekbone.

“You guys are so lovely.” You admitted miserably.

“Angel.” James cooed as he roughly rubbed between your shoulders as if trying to ‘shake you out of it’. “You’re crying because your boyfriends are lovely?”

“Yes.” You sobbed and hid your face in your hands.

“Okay, that’s it.” Regulus demanded as he stood and closed your door gently before walking around the car and opening up James’.

“You’re fired. Get out.” He barked simply.

James let out a disbelieving laugh and looked at Regulus strangely.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You have our sweet girl sobbing back here.” He explained (overdramatically) as he flung a hand in your direction. “So, you’re fired; you have to drive now.”

James couldn’t help the fond grin that took over his face (the kind Regulus loved the most; the kind that resulted in two dimples instead of just the usual one) as he shook his head in exasperation and acquiesced to his new role as chauffeur.

“Okay amour, that’s enough now, yeah? You had a good night? Lot’s of fun with the girls? And two boys who love you a lot?” Regulus cooed as he took James’ recently vacated seat.

“I know!” You cried and flung your hands into your lap. “I’m so lucky!”

Regulus made an embarrassingly gooey ‘tsking’ sound as James laughed.

“Thank you, but we’re the lucky ones, angel.”

This just caused you to cry harder.

Regulus could have killed James right then and there if he didn’t look so sodding good behind the wheel of his car.

He’d deal with him later, though; for now, he had a sweet drunk lovie to snuggle.

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drabbles-mc · 3 months

Text

Out of Practice

Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

For the Alternate June-iverse prompt: milf/dilf

Warnings: 18+, language, alcohol, steamy things, reader is a mom, bucky hasn't dated in like 70 years

Word Count: 7.7k

A/N: I had no idea what I was going to do for this prompt for the longest time but then tonight this all fell outta me in one sitting lmao. enjoy some cameos from Sam and Tony! And thanks again to @buckybarnesevents and @rookthorne for putting this event together 💖

MCU Taglist: @garbinge @artemiseamoon (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

Bucky was standing at the bottom of the walkway that led to the main doors of the school. Despite the warmth that came from the late spring weather, he still had on his leather jacket and gloves. He was far from the only person standing out and waiting for the final bell to ring, but he still felt like he stood out. No matter how much time went by that was a feeling he had yet to shake.

He pried his eyes off the cracked concrete beneath his boots when the bell rang, shortly followed by the front doors of the school being pushed open by dozens upon dozens of kids desperate to get out and head home. Many of them were sprinting off towards the buses, but some were making a direct line right where Bucky was standing with the rest of the parents and other family members. He kept his eyes peeled, but he still didn’t see who he was looking for.

A couple minutes ticked by and for a moment he wondered if he had shown up at the wrong place, or on the wrong day. He was about to take his phone out of his pocket when the front door opened up again. He breathed out a sigh of relief when he saw Morgan walking out, jacket tied around her waist and backpack settled on her shoulders. She was looking up at the woman next to her, the two of them talking as the woman balanced a child who looked like she was just barely old enough to be in kindergarten on her hip.

When Morgan looked away, she immediately saw Bucky. A smile broke out across her face as she threw a hand up to wave, an expression and gesture that he returned. He took a few steps so that he met her right where the walkways met. She walked right up to him, holding both hands out in closed fists. Bucky’s grin widened slightly as he held his fists out as well, tapping their knuckles together before the both pulled their hands back, making an exploding sound and gesture as they did.

Once they completed their ritual, Bucky turned his attention to you. You were smiling at the sight of the two of them, but he could see the questioning look still lingering in your eyes. “You must be Uncle Bucky, then?” you asked, although the answer seemed fairly obvious.

He chuckled, looking briefly at Morgan before he returned his attention back to you. “Yeah, but just Bucky is fine.”

He held out his hand for you to shake, and you did so carefully so as not to disturb the sleeping child on your hip as you gave him your name in return. “Hope you don’t mind me bringing her out.” You shifted your weight from one foot to the other. “Just like to make sure that everything’s alright when someone new is picking up one of my students.”

“I tried to tell her you weren’t new,” Morgan interjected, her sarcasm making her sound so much like her father despite only being nine years old.

You shook your head with a knowing smile. “New to me, then,” you corrected.

“It’s fine,” Bucky said with a small shake of his head. “I get it.”

“I appreciate that.” You looked back and forth between the two of them, an odd but fitting pair. “I’ll let you two go. It was nice to meet you, Bucky.” You shifted your gaze to the young girl standing beside him. “And I will see you on Monday, Miss Morgan.”

Morgan was already saying goodbye and turning to head off towards Bucky’s care by the time the words left your mouth. Bucky, however, was still staring at you, looking at the way you were balancing the little girl on one hip while you had her backpack on the opposite shoulder, your own bag hanging in the crook of your arm. He knew that this was probably far from the first time you left the school building with your hands full but he still felt like it was wrong to not at least offer to help.

“Do you need help with—”

“I’ve got it,” you reassured him with a smile, taking a step towards the parking lot, “but thank you.”

He didn’t try to offer again, taking your word for what it was worth. Turning, he easily collapsed the distance between himself and Morgan in one stride, and the two of them started walking off towards his car. You heard the two of them talking as they walked away. Or, rather, you heard Morgan talking about her day and Bucky chiming in with a word of acknowledgment. You cast a couple brief looks at them as you walked over to your car, smiling at the sight of them.

You returned your focus to the task at hand as you tried to get your daughter into her booster seat in the back of your car. You weren’t too worried, since she had luckily been a heavy sleeper ever since she was born, but you still tried to be extra careful. You were clicking her seatbelt into place when you heard Bucky’s car engine rumbling to life.

You caught a glimpse through your own car’s windshield as they drove by, Morgan sitting behind the empty passenger seat of Bucky’s car. They were out of you line of sight as quickly as they’d entered it. When they were gone again you set both your bag and your daughter’s on the floor by her feet.

~*~

“Ew, no,” Morgan said as she shook her head, her and Bucky looking at each other through the rearview mirror, “he’s gross. All the boys in my grade are.”

Bucky laughed, nodding. “Your dad will be happy to hear that.”

“I don’t even want a boyfriend.”

Bucky fought to the urge to give his knee-jerk response which would’ve been, “Well, yeah, you’re fucking nine.” Instead, he asked, “You tell him that?”

“Yeah.” She shrugged. “He went and asked Chrissy instead.”

“Worked out for you,” Bucky said, throwing his directional on before turning onto the main road away from the school. “You don’t need a boyfriend—you’re fine.”

“Dad says that you need a girlfriend.”

Bucky nearly choking on the breath he was pulling in. His eyes drifted from the road and back to the mirror to look at her. “What?”

“What?” she parroted back to him, blissfully unaware of why he reacted that way. “That’s what he said.”

Bucky was shaking his head, gaze fixed back on the road once more. “Yeah? Well your dad’s a—”

“Have you ever had a girlfriend?” she asked.

Bucky chuckled, a genuine sound. “Ever? Yeah.”

“This century?”

His eyebrows raised, surprised but also not. “You gotta stop listening to your dad all the time.”

A wide grin blossomed across her face. “But have you?”

He shook his head. “I thought we were cool,” he said sarcastically.

Morgan laughed hard enough at that to usher them into another topic of conversation with the rest of the drive home. Bucky went the long way, swinging through McDonald’s on the way since he was told that was fine this time around. It killed a little more time anyway, which was really what he needed. The only reason that he has the one enlisted to go and pick Morgan up in the first place was because Tony and Pepper were both running late with work. Not terribly so, but late enough that they didn’t want to ask her teacher to stay and wait.

Even with the extra stop planned in, and the most scenic route as possible taken, it still didn’t take them very long to get home. Before either of them could think much of it Bucky was rolling into Tony and Pepper’s driveway.

Bucky had just put the car in park when Morgan jumped out of the car, backpack strap in one hand and happy meal in the other. Bucky shook his head at her, laughing as he got out of the car much slower than she had. He finally felt comfortable enough to take off his gloves, tucking them into the back pocket of his jeans as he walked towards Tony’s porch.

Morgan had left the door opened behind her, so Bucky walked through and closed it as he did. When he looked around the room he saw that Morgan had already made her way over to her father and gotten swept off the ground in a hug.

As Tony was setting her back down on the floor, he asked, “You got some extra fries for me, right?”

Morgan laughed. “No way.”

Tony faked deep offense at her response. “It’s like I don’t even know you anymore.”

Bucky piped in. “I didn’t get you any either, for the record.”

Tony smirked. “That much I expected.”

Morgan looked around the room a little more, and when she didn’t see Pepper, she asked, “Where’s Mom?”

Tony gestured deeper into the house. “She’s out back.”

Morgan tossed both her backpack and her McDonald’s box of food onto the counter. “I’m gonna go say hi!” She pointed at Tony. “Don’t eat my fries.” She turned and pointed at Bucky. “Don’t let him eat my fries.”

Bucky gave a small salute. “Yes ma’am.”

When Morgan had scampered out of the room, Tony’s full attention shifted to Bucky. “Thanks for picking her up—I know it was short-notice.”

Bucky shrugged. “It’s fine.”

“Went okay?”

He nodded. “Teacher came out to make sure I wasn’t some kidnapper, but yeah, it went okay.”

Tony chuckled as he opened the fridge. “Figured she would.” He grabbed a beer for himself and offered one to Bucky, when he declined he shrugged with a suit yourself expression and let the door fall shut.

“Why’s your nine-year-old telling me I need to get a girlfriend?” Bucky asked as he watched Tony pop the cap off the bottle.

Tony didn’t miss a beat. “My guess is because you need to get a girlfriend.”

“Tony—”

“You met her teacher then, right?” Tony shrugged and took a sip of his beer. “She’s single. And cu—”

Bucky’s tone shifted drastically as he repeated himself. “Tony.”

The hand that wasn’t holding the beer bottle was held up in mock surrender. “I’m just saying.”

“That why you sent me to pick her up? Is Happy even busy?”

Tony laughed. “Like Happy would ever be too busy to get Morgan from school.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Oh my fuc—”

“Watch it.” Tony lifted the hand he was holding the bottle with, pointing accusingly at him. “There are little ears in the house.”

Bucky sucked in a deep breath. “I don’t need you playing matchmaker.” He leaned forward, bracing his forearms against the smooth dark stone-top of the island. “And I definitely don’t need you roping in your nine-year-old to help.”

“I actually didn’t tell her to say anything to you.”

“I don’t need you talking to her about my love life at all.”

“I was talking to Pepper about it. But hey,” he took another sip, “little ears hear everything.”

He watched as Bucky chuckled in disbelief. Tony knew that it wasn’t his place to say or do anything, that out of everyone he was probably close to the bottom of the list when it came to people who had the right to give dating advice. Even with that being the case, though, Tony had been watching Bucky muddle through and get along without ever really learning to get close to anyone since everything happened with Steve. He was gone now, and while Bucky might’ve accepted that, he still hadn’t really made any moves to let new people in. A girlfriend wouldn’t solve all of those issues, as Pepper had swiftly told him. But it probably also wouldn’t hurt, as Tony had told her in response.

“Gonna make me go to parent-teacher night next?” Bucky asked, his tone light enough to let Tony know that it wasn’t going to turn into an argument for the time being.

“Don’t be ridiculous—you’re not ready for anything more than an open house.”

He scoffed out a laugh. “Thanks.”

They both had plenty more comments to make about the topic but they let it drop as Morgan re-entered the room, Pepper in tow right behind her. Bucky and Tony exchanged a knowing look, one that confirmed that their conversation as on hold for now. Pepper caught it, but knew enough to know not to ask. Instead, she started a new conversation by thanking Bucky for picking Morgan up. He stayed long enough to make a little small talk before excusing himself, making sure to give Morgan another double fist-bump before heading for the door.

“I’ll walk you out,” Tony said, leaving his half-empty beer bottle on the counter.

Bucky knew exactly what Tony was doing, but didn’t say anything. The two of them slipped out the door, and Tony followed him down off the porch and all the way to his car.

When he realized that Bucky wasn’t going to say anything about any of it, he spoke up himself. “I could probably get her number for you.”

“Don’t.”

“Why not? You don’t think she’s—”

“That has nothing to do with it and you know it,” Bucky cut him off. “Just leave it alone, Tony.”

“Mmm.” He shook his head. “Don’t think I can do that. Matter of national security at this point—you’re left unattended an awful lot.”

“And you think I need an elementary teacher to keep me company?”

“She knows how to wrangle kids and keep ‘em in line—sounds perfect for you.”

“Don’t say anything to her.”

Tony stared at Bucky for a long, hard minute. “Fine.”

Bucky didn’t believe it for a second but be also knew that continuing to argue about it wasn’t going to fix anything either. “Thanks.”

They exchanged a quick handshake and a brief goodbye, and soon enough, Bucky was on his way. The drive back to his apartment felt longer than usual, his thoughts wandering in the silence of the car since he didn’t make any move to turn the radio on. He thought about you, not that he would ever give Tony the satisfaction of knowing that, the way you smiled as you balanced your daughter on your hip. He thought about the apparent ease there was between you and Morgan. He thought about your dress and the way it fell just above your knees, the way the bright colors looked so nice and seemed so fitting.

Then he shook his head to dispel the thoughts. Tony was just in his head now, having him overthink about a woman he’d met for all of two minutes. The likelihood of him seeing you again wasn’t very high, not unless Tony started asking him to play chauffer for Morgan a lot more often, and somehow he didn’t really see that happening.

When he walked into his apartment, Bucky was immediately greeted by Alpine running up and rubbing against his legs. He chuckled, crouching down so that he could give him a light scratch behind his ears. Part of it was because Alpine was happy to have his owner home, Bucky was sure. But the other part was about the fact that it was definitely past Alpine’s usual dinnertime. Bucky understood all of that.

“I know,” his metal fingers can down Alpine’s spine, causing him to arch and purr, “I’m late.”

The next few minutes was just Bucky hanging up his jacket, giving Alpine his dinner, and then pulling something out of the freezer to cook for his own dinner as well. While he was waiting for the oven to finish pre-heating, the only sound that could be heard was Alpine crunching on his kibble as he stood above his bowl. Bucky watched him for a moment, a small smile on his face at the simplicity of the life he had now. Something that for a long time he didn’t think he would ever have.

It was a good life. It was quieter now than it had been for a long time—he was almost used to it. But maybe Tony was right, not that Bucky would ever tell him as much in so many words, but there might’ve been something to what Tony had been trying to tell him. A truth that was simpler to ignore because continuing on as he had been required far less work than trying to get to know someone, trying to let someone get to know him.

He pulled his phone out, tempted to search your name just to see what would pop up, what he would be able to learn about you. Then he stopped himself, shaking his head to try and dispel the thoughts. What good would it do? Why was he thinking like you were someone he knew already? Or like you were someone that already knew him? For all he knew, you’d forgotten him already. Hell, for all he knew you had no desire to get to know anyone, let alone someone like him. The beeping of his oven saved him from going down that spiral any further.

~*~

Sam was sitting on the stool to Bucky’s left. The music in the bar was loud, but not so much so that they had to shout to talk to each other. But once Bucky processed the sentence that Sam had just spoken to him, he instantly wished that the music was loud enough so that he couldn’t hear the other man at all.

Bucky pulled a long drink from the beer bottle in his hand, gloved fingers wrapped tightly around the neck of it. “Can’t believe he got you in on this shit too.”

Sam shrugged, unfazed by Bucky’s blatant annoyance. “I’m just sayin’, I think the guy might have a point.”

“Since when do you agree with Stark?”

Sam laughed. “I’ll agree with anybody if I think they’re right!” He paused, studied the look on Bucky’s face and then added on with a laugh, “Well, yeah, not you. But other people.”

Bucky tried to keep his annoyed expression but then chuckled. “Fuck you.”

Sam wasn’t going to let the conversation get derailed. “Alright, so you don’t like the girl he was telling you about, so why don’t you—”

“I didn’t say—”

“They got apps for that now. Oh, sorry,” Sam held up his hand in a pausing motion, “Apps are things that you can put on your pho—”

Bucky’s brows knit together. “I know what apps are.”

Sam allowed himself a minute to laugh at his own joke before saying, “So it’s not the girl. Then, what? Afraid you left all your game back in the forties?”

He shook his head, eyes suddenly glued down to his beer bottle. “Sure, yeah. Something like that.”

“Want my advice?”

“No.”

Sam gave it anyway. “Get over it.” He ignored the increasingly annoyed look on Bucky’s face. “Go buy a girl a drink. Ask her for her number. Use whatever corny line you used back in the nineteen hundreds the last time you had to pretend to have some game.”

Bucky didn’t want to laugh but he couldn’t stop himself. Sam might’ve been oversimplifying but Bucky was also vaguely aware of the fact that he was overcomplicating things for himself. “I’ll think about it. But,” he paused to point at Sam accusingly while he grabbed a sip of his beer, “I didn’t have to pretend to have game. I had it—have. I have it.”

Sam raised his eyebrows. “Riiiight.”

The topic dropped, and they moved onto talking about other things. There were frequent pauses in the conversation, both of them turning to look at people coming into the bar. Neither of them ever thought they would fully break that habit, no matter how often they went out into the world as civilians.

The door let out a quiet chime, and Bucky’s head instinctively snapped in the direction to see who was coming in. His eyes widened and he stopped himself in the middle of the sentence that he was saying to Sam. There was no brain to mouth filter as he let out a quiet, “Shit.”

Sam’s face contorted in confusion as he turned to see what it was that had Bucky reacting that way. He looked over, his confusion immediately shifting into a smug grin when he saw you standing in the doorway. Bucky hadn’t even given Sam a description of what you looked like, but he could tell from Bucky’s reaction that there was no way that you could possibly be anyone else.

“Talk about good timing,” Sam joked.

Bucky was still staring at you, not that you’d noticed, as he spoke to Sam. “Shut up.”

“Now’s the time.”

He fought the urge to shove him off the stool. “I said shut up.”

You were only a couple steps inside the bar, you phone clutched tightly in one hand as you looked around the semi-tight space. The focused furrow of your brow said that you were looking for someone. The tight black jeans and lacy grey top you were wearing said that you were probably looking for your date. There were five million reasons Bucky felt his mouth go dry and none of them were doing him any good.

He saw the rise and fall of your shoulders as you let out a sigh. You typed on your phone for a moment before making your way over to the bar, carefully weaving your way through the clusters of other patrons. The closer you got, the more Bucky hoped that the floor would open up and swallow him whole. You were so focused on getting to the bar and snagging a rare empty seat, that you didn’t even notice that the seat was next to him until after you’d ordered your drink. You wouldn’t have looked in his direction at all if you hadn’t heard someone laughing.

When you turned, the first thing you saw was Bucky, the familiar face and leather jacket. The next thing you noticed was the man on the other side of him, the source of said laughter. You tilted your head as your eyes made their way back to Bucky. You allowed yourself a laugh of your own. “Bucky?”

He nodded, clearing his throat. “H-hey. Yeah, hi.”

“So funny seeing you here!” You paused, looking back and forth between him and the man next to him. “How are you?”

He nodded again, pulling the words up one by one. “Good. I’m good. You?”

“I’m, um,” you chuckled awkwardly, “I’m alright, I think? Supposed to be meeting someone here but,” you glanced around, “I don’t see them yet.”

The man on the other side of Bucky leaned across him and held his hand out. “I’m Sam, by the way.” He flashed you a charming grin. “Not the person you were looking for, but figured I’d introduce myself anyway since this guy wasn’t going to.”

You laughed as you told him your name. “Nice to meet you, Sam.”

The three of you chit-chatted, and you tried not to think too much about the way that Bucky was looking at you. You were putting too much thought into it, you were certain. Maybe you were just projecting, taking all the growing disappointment you were feeling about your supposed “date” still not being there and channeling it into the way that Bucky seemed to be so attentively listening to you.

Taking another sip from the straw in your drink, you checked the time on your phone one more time. Letting out a deep sigh, you looked over at Bucky, and Sam too. “I’m glad I ran into you two tonight, because from the looks of it the person that I came out to see is not showing up.” You shoved your phone back into the pocket of your jeans with a shake of your head.

“He’s an idiot,” Sam chimed in without hesitation.

You laughed and nodded. “I appreciate the sentiment.” You finished off your drink and you didn’t try to dissuade the bartender who was grabbing your glass and heading off to make you another. Looking back at the two of them, you said, “My friends were the ones who convinced me to get on those stupid dating apps anyway.” You shook your head. “Lotta good it did, huh?”

Bucky nodded, shooting a pointed look at Sam as he said, “Yeah, I know the feeling.”

Sam was laughing, but Bucky noticed the way that he was moving to throw some cash down on the bar. He gathered up his jacket as he got off the stool. “Well, not to be the bearer of more bad news, but I gotta take off.” He clapped Bucky on the shoulders as he walked by. “But you two crazy kids stay out and have some fun. It was very nice to meet you.” He flashed the two of you another grin. “Call if you need bail money. Not me, but, you know, call somebody.”

You laughed as you and Bucky each said goodbye to him. The two of you watched him as he practically skipped out of the bar and out onto the street. Bucky was caught between wishing he could chase Sam down and tackle him, and wishing he could skip right out the door alongside him. There was no buffer between the two of you anymore, and Bucky felt so strangely exposed.

“Sorry about your date,” Bucky finally offered up.

You smiled good-naturedly. “I’m not that heartbroken over it,” you said honestly as the bartender set your fresh drink down in front of you. “My expectations were pretty low, but, you know,” you took a sip, “not so low that I assumed he wasn’t gonna be here.”

Bucky chuckled. “That’s fair.”

“Honestly, I’m just more pissed off that I wasted one of my few free weekend evenings on some guy who didn’t even bother texting me to cancel.”

“Few?”

You smiled as you said, “My daughter. Every other week she’s with her dad. I miss her when she’s gone, so I try to stay busy. Usually with friends, but every now and then it’s some pipe-dream of a date.” You took another sip. “They usually do show up, though, at the risk of making myself sound horrible desperate,” you joked.

Bucky laughed. “I don’t think you have to worry about that.”

Your smile softened a touch, but it was still there. “Well, thank you for that at least.”

You had every intention of finishing off your drink, paying your tab, and heading right home. You weren’t typically one for staying out all hours in a bar or a club somewhere, even when you were out with your friends. And, as nice as it was that you had a chance run-in with Bucky when everything else seemed to be going wrong, you were still ready to turn it in and go home. Back to your pajamas and fuzzy blankets.

That’s not what happened, however, despite your best intentions. Somewhere along the way you switched from cocktails to soda just for the sake of being able to stay longer without getting too much of a buzz as you talked to Bucky. He wasn’t exactly a chatterbox, per se, and you hadn’t really expected him to be. The two of you managed to keep up a good pace of back and forth regardless of that. He did a little more listening than he did talking but it didn’t seem to bother him. It also made you realize that even though you had your friends, and your fellow teachers at school, there weren’t a whole lot of times when you went out to socialize with other adults. It also didn’t hurt that Bucky was so nice to look at, that he seemed to be just as interested in looking right back at you.

You’d both lost track of time as you sat there, and when you were both finally making your way towards the door of the bar, it was much later than either of you had bargained for. The two of you walked, and Bucky pulled the door open for you. The two of you were mid-conversation when you landed back out on the sidewalk. It was only then that you realized you probably weren’t going to be heading in the same direction.

Bucky watched as you motioned back over your shoulder, the opposite direction from the way he was heading. “I’m parked this way, but, it was really good seeing you. What are the chances, right?” You laughed lightly.

He smiled, nodded. “Yeah. It was, um,” he could feel the words that he wanted to say resting on the tip of his tongue and he was conflicted about whether or not he wanted to actually say them, “it was good to see you again.” He paused, hating every bit of hesitation that he was feeling. “Do you, um, I was wondering,” he was reaching for the pocket of his jacket for his phone as he fumbled his way through the question, “I mean on your next free weekend…”

You felt your face warm as he continued on. You knew where the line of questioning was going, and part of you knew that maybe you should put him out of his misery. But it was sweet, and you were enjoying that. Finally, you nodded. “That’d be nice.”

He let out a sigh of relief as he took his phone out. “Great. Okay, yeah. I’ll…I’ll call you. You know,” he managed a smile with a little more ease, “save you from all the apps.”

You laughed as you typed your name and number in. “You’re a lifesaver.”

In the back of his mind he knew that he should be making some sort of move now. Walk you to your car, give you a hug, something. But if asking for your number was as difficult as it had proven itself to be, he didn’t know what it was going to be like trying to manage anything else. So he took the win, and bid you goodnight.

Over the course of the next couple days, he was caught between wanting to tell both Tony and Sam separately that he’d gotten your number. He thought maybe it would help get them off his back. What he didn’t want, though, was for them to just get on his case about a whole new slew of things. He also didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of knowing that they’d been right.

So, instead of reaching out to either of them, he texted you instead. It was casual at first, just brief messages here and there. Texting wasn’t his favorite way to stay in touch with people, but he at least recognized that it was what people did now.

He called you once, when he wanted to actually try and make plans to see you. That conversation wasn’t one that he wanted to have over text, and he told you as much. You also found that to be sweet as well. It wasn’t a long conversation, one taking place while you made dinner and your daughter was busy with her toys in the living room. But the two of you settled on a date, a time, and that he would come by your place to pick you up. You couldn’t remember the last time you smiled so much while making pasta.

~*~

“Tony is never gonna let you hear the end of this when he finds out,” Sam said as he sat down at Bucky’s kitchen counter.

“Yeah, I know,” Bucky grabbed drinks out of his fridge. “That’s why I haven’t said anything to him about it.”

“Nothing?!”

“No!” Bucky said, breaking down into laughter after a moment. “You gonna tell him?”

“What, you think that we’re texting about you all the time?” Sam shook his head. “Get over yourself.”

Bucky was about to come back with something snarky as per usual when his phone chimed on the counter. Sam looked, too nosey to stop himself. The grin that spread across his face when he saw your name on the screen. At the look on Sam’s face, Bucky’s instinct was to reach and flip the phone over, but he stopped himself. Instead, he grabbed his phone and messaged you back before setting it down.

“You wanna call me while you’re getting ready?” Sam joked. “I’ll help you pick out an outfit. Tell you how to do your hair.”

Bucky chuckled. “Fuck you.”

~*~

He didn’t call Sam before the date. He also hadn’t heard anything from Tony which led him to believe that Sam had been kind enough to keep his mouth shut. That was all well and good, but he wished that it did anything to soothe the nerves that he was feeling as he stood outside your door.

He felt like an awkward sixteen-year-old again as he stood on your front step. He rang the doorbell, flowers clutched tightly in his hand as he waited. He’d spoken to you earlier, and you had seemed excited about it all still. That gave him hope. But again, it still wasn’t enough to eradicate the lingering feelings of anxiety he had.

Another few seconds passed by and then you pulled open the door. You were smiling at him as you were trying to do the latch on your necklace. “Hey! Sorry, I still have to get my shoes on and stuff. Please,” you stepped back and nodded for him to step inside, “come in. I’ll be ready in like, two minutes.”

He smiled as he somewhat nervously followed your instructions, stepping just past the threshold of your house. “Take your time,” he said calmly as he shut the door behind him.

He looked around while you finished putting on your jewelry and went to grab your shoes. He wasn’t sure what he had been picturing your house looking like, but what he saw felt fitting. It was tidy considering how young your daughter was. There were some toys scattered about in patches, framed photos on the walls and drawings tacked onto the fridge by magnets. It was a home in a way that none of Bucky’s places since he came back had ever been.

“Okay,” you said as you reappeared, smoothing out your blouse, “I’m ready. Sor—” you stopped short when you finally noticed the bouquet of flowers in his hand. The smile on your face was wide enough to make your cheeks hurt. “Those are beautiful.”

Bucky’s eyes widened for a moment, like he’d forgotten that he had them. He held them out to you. “Just figured, you know…”

You smiled as you took them, flitting off to the kitchen so that you could put them in a vase with water. “Thank you.”

As the two of you drove, you could feel him slowly starting to relax. The two of you talked, and you could see the way that his grip on the steering wheel started to become less vice-like. There was something refreshing in the way that he opened the car door for you, and the door to the diner that the two of you had agreed on. He sat down across from you in the booth and you noticed the way that he still had his gloves on as he looked through the menu. You wanted to ask but you didn’t—if he wanted to say something about it you had a feeling that he would.

The conversation felt easy, the same way it had been that night at the bar. The only difference now was the feeling in the air. There was a different kind of tension now that hadn’t been there before. Sure, you’d been attracted to him even then, but that hadn’t been a date. Not like this.

Every now and then if one of you shifted in your seat and your feet or legs would brush. Neither of you said anything about it, but you could feel the upward curl of your own lips as it happened, the occasional pink flush of Bucky’s cheeks. Sometimes it’d make him stumble in his sentence and you’d do him the courtesy of not commenting on it.

The two of you were splitting a piece of pie for dessert, something you insisted on because you knew the woman who baked them for the diner. It wasn’t as though Bucky put up any great fight about it. The closer the two of you got to finishing it, the more you engaged in low-stakes warfare, dueling with your forks over the pieces with the best crust-to-filling ratio.

“You can have the last bite,” you conceded with a laugh, leaning back in the booth.

“Oh, come on,” he joked, “it doesn’t feel good to win by forfeit.”

You laughed, warmth blossoming up your neck and across your face. “It’s not forfeit. Think of it as, I don’t know,” you drummed your fingers against the tabletop, “me being nice since it was your first time here.” You paused, studying the amused look on his face. “That better?”

He shrugged, a smirk on his face. “Little bit.”

The two of you walked back out to his car, and you found yourself walking much closer to his side than you had been on the way in. Your arm brushed against his as the two of you walked, and you found yourself about half a step away from leaning into his side.

He reached to open the car door for you, but before he could you leaned back against it so that you were facing him. You let one arm hang by your side, with the other you brought your palm so that it rested against his chest, pads of your fingertips pressing lightly against the leather.

Bucky almost pulled away out of reflex, but he didn’t. “Yes?”

You shook your head, still smiling. “Nothing, nothing.” You let your hand drop, the pads of your fingers dragging for a moment before your arm was back at your side once more. You moved just enough so that he could open the door again for you. “Thank you.”

Bucky walked you up to the door of your house, and he felt like his heart was beating clean up into the back of his throat. He didn’t remember dating being this nerve-wracking before. You seemed perfectly unfazed, though as you sauntered up and slipped your key into the lock.

“You wanna come in?” you offered as you opened the door. “Have a drink?”

It took more effort to swallow than it should have. “Oh. Yeah, sure.”

You chuckled. “If you don’t want to—”

“I do,” he reassured, his voice earnest.

Your smiled grew. “Okay.” You stepped and waved him in with you. “C’mon.” You noticed the way that he still had his jacket and gloves on when you came back out of the kitchen with a bottle in each hand. You handed one over to him. “Nothing fancy, but it’s also usually just me drinking them, so…”

He chuckled and shook his head. “It’s fine.”

There were a few beats of silence, each of you sipping out of your bottles before you said, “You don’t do this a lot, do you?”

His eyes widened for a moment, slight panic. “What?”

Your smile was warm as you gestured with your hand that held the bottle. “This. Dates. Not…not your thing, is it?”

He held the bottle between both his hands. “I’m…out of practice, yeah.” He cleared his throat. “That noticeable?”

You shook your head. “Not really. You just seemed, I don’t know, a little nervous. And I don’t know why a guy who looks like you would have any reason to be nervous on a date other than…”

“Other than I don’t go on them,” he finished with a soft laugh.

Your face heated up as you smiled. “Kinda.”

“How’d I do?” he asked, mostly joking.

You stepped in closer to him, noticing a different kind of tension in his body. “You’re doing great.”

He huffed out a laugh but it was much softer than he intended, betraying more of his real feelings than he bargained for. “This part?” He made a small gesture between you. “This part I’m really,” he forced out a puff of air through his teeth, “yeah.”

There was a flutter of butterflies in your stomach, something you hadn’t felt in a long time. “Want some help?”

He laughed but he didn’t say no, didn’t move away. He swallowed hard as you took the bottle from his hand and set them both on the coffee table in your living room. He was fighting hard to say something—ideally something smooth but at this point he would’ve settled for just about anything. Within seconds you were standing close to him again, bodies a breath away from being pressed flush against each other. Your hands rested on his chest for a moment, and you waited to see if he would change his mind and pull away—you were giving him the chance. But then you felt his hands tentatively land on your hips and you smiled, your body easing against his. You brought one hand up to the side of his face, thumb caressing his cheekbone.

“Not so bad,” you asked softly, “right?”

He shook his head, finally forcing out a quiet, “No, it’s not.”

You smiled and leaned in, lightly pressing your lips to his. It was delicate, fleeting—you were pulling away as quickly as you’d leaned in. The sliver of space left between your lips and his was the silent ask for him to let you know if this was the end of the night or not. He could pull away from you, no harm no foul, or he could lean in and kiss you again and figure it out from there.

It felt like you were both holding your breath for a moment, faces just too close to be able to get a good look in each other’s eyes. You were about to pull back to really look at him when he leaned in and kissed you, more conviction than the quick gesture from before. You readily gave into him, hand sliding from his cheek to the back of his head to keep him pulled to you. As his lips moved against yours, one of his hands slid so that it was resting at the center of the small of your back.

The two of you stayed like that in the middle of your living room, all locking lips and wandering hands. You would’ve let the entire night fall away spent just like that and been more than fine with it. When the two of you finally came back up for air, when Bucky pulled away from you enough to really look into your eyes, you saw that more than anything he was surprised. Maybe it was at you, maybe it was at himself, but regardless it was there. Underneath that, though, you could see that there was something more. His hand that wasn’t on the small of your back came up to cup your chin, the leather of his gloves smooth to the touch against your skin. He tilted your chin just slightly and then your lips were back on his again.

Out of instinct you tugged down the zipper of his jacket. Your hands came up to his shoulders, getting ready to push his jacket down off of them. It was only then that he pulled away from you again, breathless as he desperately searched your face.

“What?” you asked gently, pausing your movements.

“Nothing, nothing. I,” he pressed his lips into a thin line for a moment. “I wasn’t expecting…I just…”

“If it’s too much,” you said, taking a small step back, “we can—”

“No,” he stopped you short, shaking his head. “It’s not that. I just…” He took a breath. “Do you know? Who I am?”

You chuckled. “You’re friends with Iron Man and Falcon. I,” you shrugged, “I connected some dots along the way.”

He laughed, a sound of relief. “A lot of people don’t…you know…”

“A lot of people don’t have people from The Avengers dropping off school snacks once a week.” You paused and let both of you laugh. Allowing your tone to get a little more serious, you said, “I know, Bucky,” you moved once more to push his jacket down off his shoulders, “and it’s okay.”

He allowed you to do it, allowed his jacket to drop to the floor. Even with the long-sleeve shirt that he had on underneath, you could see the difference between his arms. You brought your hands to his, helping him pull the gloves off next. He was holding his breath—you could tell. When his gloves were off you ran your fingers along each of his palms, skin and metal, with equal delicate care.

When you looked into his eyes again you saw the way he was looking at you—bewildered, eager. You brought one hand back to his face again, urging him back towards you. It was a cue that he gladly took, kissing you with fervor. His hands were on your sides, and when he felt the way your other hand was running up his arm, he couldn’t stop himself, from letting his hands slip beneath the fabric of your shirt.

It’d been so long, he realized as his hands roamed your sides and back, since he’d last felt someone like this. When your fingers slid underneath the collar of his shirt, splaying across what they could reach where the nape of his neck turned stretched into his shoulders, he also realized that it’d been a long time since he’d let someone feel him like this too.

All the nerves, the tension of the night, it all started to melt away as he felt you reaching for the bottom hem of his shirt to pull off over his head. He didn’t want to stop you, and he knew that that meant something. Maybe they’d all been right—maybe there was something to letting someone else in again. As he felt the warmth of your palms against his skin, he could only hope that the rest of it felt this good too.

#connect4au #alternate juneiverse #marvel #mcu #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #x reader #x reader fic #bucky barnes event #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

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natalievoncatte · 9 months

Text

There was something inherently unnerving in Superman staring at her, Lena decided. She could *feel* the weight of his gaze on her. If she hadn’t know better, she would have thought that he was trying to steal glances at her. Of course, there was the matter of Lois Lane and all that, and Lena was assuredly not his type. She was, after all, a Luthor.

But he kept staring.

Lena listened to the mission briefing, feeling a bit detached. Her work here was done; she’d worked out the math and it was up to Kara and her cousin to push the asteroid just so, to return it to its proper orbit and send it on its merry way.

It was routine, if two people with godlike powers pushing millions of tons of rock through space could be said to be normal.

There was only one problem.

Clark.

Kept.

Staring.

Lena looked away from him, then slipped out of the room, looking up at the sky. She could see the offending space rock just barely, and extended her arm, covering it with her thumb, one eye pinched shut.

“Hey.”

Kara was in the doorway, not quite emerging onto the balcony. She’d suited up in her space suit, a new design of Lena’s that outfitted her in a stark white with a glowing amber light behind the red-gold frame of her family crest. Lena was proud of her work. It carried a sufficient air supply and was shielded against radiation, just on the off chance they Kara met something up there that bypassed her immunities.

Kara had her helmet tucked under one arm and her hair up on a tight bun, and she looked absolutely dashing. Lena couldn’t help but grin like a big kid, as worried as she was.

“Hey.”

“Hey yourself,” said Lena. “You look good in that.”

“Of course I do, you made it,” said Kara.

She broke across the balcony in three quick strides, and from the way she canted her head, Lena thought it might finally happen. She might crack that last barrier and press her soft lips to Lena’s, stealing some luck to take with her, and stealing Lena’s breath away.

Kara had stolen her heart years ago.

She didn’t, though. Rather than a hug, she ducked down and brushed her forehead lightly against Lena’s, before quickly pulling back.

“Come right back,” said Lena.

“You know it,” said Kara. “Want me to bring you something from my trip?”

“Just come back safe.”

Kara grinned her cocky grin and offered Lena a little salute.

“It’s time,” Clark said, from the doorway. Lena hadn’t even noticed his presence.

He was staring at both of them, now. Lena turned away. The pair stepped back inside, Clark speaking to Kara in clipped, rapid Kryptonese. Lena couldn’t parse it quickly enough, but she made out something about scents.

The mission was not routine.

Lena’s work was perfect. The data was not. Lena white knuckled the railing in her hands as the asteroid drifted down, skimming the Earth’s atmosphere and carving out a channel of unbound flame.

Alex was frantically demanding a status update, but neither Kryptonian answered her. There was only static. Lena watched the control room monitors, and her hands felt as cold as the steel they grasped. She felt utterly numb, on the verge of screaming.

Then the speakers crackled. It was Kara.

“I’m sorry, Lena,” Kara rasped out. “I made a mess of your suit.”

They landed a few minutes later. Kara was the worse for wear, with some of the reinforced plating melted off on her left side. She spun a harrowing tale of struggling to correct the rock’s course, Clark nodding along silently beside her. Lena locked eyes with Kara and let out a slow, agonized breath. She was okay. She was okay this time.

She’d always be okay. Right up until she wasn’t.

After, when Kara had been pried out of her suit, with her cousin’s help, and changed into a hoodie and leggings, she attacked the buffet that was laid out for the two of them in the cafeteria. Shoving around celestial bodies in as hungry work.

When Lena turned and saw Superman staring at her again, she decided she’d had enough and squared up to him.

“Okay, farmboy. Out with it. Why do you keep staring at me?”

“I was waiting for Kara to say something,” he said, “but I guess she’s too shy or she’s worried about what I’ll think. It’s okay with me if you two are together. I don’t hold your name against you.”

Lena’s brain about leaked out of her ears.

“Together?”

“Of course. I noticed earlier that her heartbeat synchronizes to yours whenever you’re in the room, and of course she’s been scent marking you.”

“She’s been what?”

Clark shifted on his feet, either from her tone or her expression or both. He looked strangely young.

“Oh, uh, I see. Anyway I need to get going, long flight back to Metropolis.”

Lena barely noticed him leaving. She stood in the same spot far too long, staring at the refrigerator. She was still standing there when Kara came up alongside her.

“Hey.”

Of course, she was devastating. Kara was in black leggings and a threadbare hoodie that was actually Lena’s, and padding around the place barefoot. Her golden tresses spilled around her shoulders in loose waves, held back by her glasses. The dashing bravado was gone and she was soft, warm, equally lovely Kara again.

“You scared me up there,” said Lena.

“You kept me safe with your suit. You always do.”

Lena looked Kara in the eye. Kara had the most lovely eyes, a gorgeous deep blue that could be as heavy as winter storm or as light as a summer breeze

“I heard what Clark said.”

Lena swallowed, her throat suddenly dry.

“He caught me red handed,” Kara added.

Lena wondered if she should laugh it off, or make a joke. Kara smiled, pulling her gaze away in a slightly embarrassed way, her cheeks turning a rosy pink.

“Does Kryptonian scent marking mean what I’m guessing it means?”

“It, um, it does.”

“This is how humans do it,” Lena whispered, diving headlong into Kara’s space.

She ducked just a little, tilting her head back, and Kara read her intentions perfectly. Their lips came together, and their first kiss was quick and soft, a promise for later, when there would be only fairy lights and Kara’s couch and soft, eager explorations full of slow, desperate intensity.

For now, Kara simply took Lena’s hands in her own, and very gently nuzzled her nose against Lena’s, breath ticking her lips.

“Take me home, space cowgirl,” said Lena.

#supercorp #supergirl fanfiction #supergirl #supercorp fanfic #lena luthor #kara danvers #kara x lena #karlena #supergirl fanfic #ficlet #Clark cameo #Kryptonians are Aliens

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steddiealltheway · 1 year

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Thinking of a steddie neighbor “enemies” to lovers AU. Oh my gosh it’s so long again and now there’s ronance.

Steve is a middle school teacher, and he’s lucky to find a small house that’s close to the school he’s teaching at after the summer ends. In fact, he seems a little too lucky. It’s only after he’s signed all the papers that the old tenets show up to warn him not to buy the house because the crazy neighbor next door.

Steve kind of shrugs it off and thinks nothing of it because he’s dealt with crazy before, and his students give him something new to deal with every day.

During the move in process, he keeps glancing at the dark house next door. Sometimes he thinks he sees something, but whenever he looks there’s nothing there. Until one time when the neighbor seems to get something caught in the curtains and is unable to close them fast enough. But still, it’s only a small slit open and with the sun beating down, the glare is too harsh to really see anything.

For the rest of the day, he doesn’t see a single curtain move. And by the end of the day, when all his boxes are moved inside his house, Steve wants more than anything to just go to sleep on the bed he tiredly put together. Some of the corners aren’t tucked in properly, and Steve definitely doesn’t remember what box he put his pillows in, but he collapses on his bed quickly on the verge of sleeping.

Then, he can see, or rather hear, what the neighbors meant. There’s a screeching noise and then some loud crazy riffs being played from some guitar next door. Steve covers his ears and groans when he realizes that it’s not going to help anything. It’s as if the neighbor is playing their guitar outside the house.

It’s a new era of Steve’s life, so instead of letting it go, he decides he’s going at the issue head on. He groans as he pries himself out of his bed. Okay, maybe letting it go would be a better idea, but what happens when school is back in and he needs to sleep?

This is absolutely the right decision.

As he steps out the front door, he instantly realizes the problem. The neighbor has cracked the window next to Steve’s house as if he’s trying to be a nuisance. Maybe the old tenets were right.

As Steve approaches the front door, he glances around the porch and catches sight of a skeleton sitting on a small chair with a mug attached to its bony hand. Upon closer inspection, Steve notices it’s a Garfield mug which makes him smile a little. Maybe a little crazy isn’t too bad.

But the blasting from the house is bad. Steve takes a deep breath and loudly knocks on the door. The music halts almost immediately and it takes a few moments and a bit of cursing from the other side of the door for it to finally creak open.

Oh Christ.

The door slowly opens revealing longer dark curly hair, pale skin, big doe eyes, full lips, and altogether Steve’s absolute daydream which he guesses might quickly turn into a nightmare as the man smirks. “Hello, my handsome new neighbor,” the man flirts easily.

Steve won’t play this game though. He’s too smart now to open up this easily. His mouth forms into a tight straight line before he corrects the man, “Steve. And you are?”

“Eddie. A pleasure to meet you,” the neighbor replies with a bright smile as he bows dramatically.

Steve nearly groans at the sight of his head going dow-

No. He’s not doing that. That’s a recipe for disease. Instead, he’ll get to the point. “Nice to meet you, too, Eddie,” Steve ignores how nice the name falls out of his mouth as he continues, “It would be even nicer if you closed your windows or turned down your amps this late at night.”

Eddie’s eyebrows furrow, and he glances down at his watch. “It’s ten o’clock.”

Steve sighs, “Yes, and I need to sleep.”

The neighbor eyes Steve up and down for a moment. “What if I kept playing?”

Steve has no idea why he says it, maybe it’s the sleep deprivation, tiredness from the move, or the fact that his neighbor is a bit overwhelmingly hot. But he answers, “Then you’re starting a war.”

It’s clearly the wrong thing to say because the tampered down mischief in Eddie’s eyes light up. He holds out his hand, and Steve reluctantly takes it. “War it is,” Eddie says with a shake of his hand. “Goodnight, Steve.” Eddie squeezes his hand one time then releases it. The door is closed before Steve can process what’s happening.

With a sigh, Steve makes his way back to his house. Before he can make it there, the loud music already starts blasting again.

A little crazy is definitely bad.

Nearly an hour later, the music continues as Steve desperately tries to put a pillow over his head to block it out. He’s never been one that’s able to sleep with loud noises, but, no matter what, he will still wake up early in the morning and be unable to fall back asleep.

He groans and turns to the clock he ended up unpacking instead of sleeping. A few seconds until eleven o’clock. He watches as the seconds tick by, and as soon as it hits eleven the music stops. Strange.

But then the music continues again, and Steve nearly screams. But then he realizes… it’s different. It’s softer as if he’s playing a lullaby. And as much as Steve hates to admit it, it’s kind of lulling him to sleep.

It’s definitely not on purpose though. Even from their brief interaction, Eddie doesn’t seem to be the type to go easy when calling war. Maybe he’s just trying to get into Steve’s head.

As the soft music drones on, Steve finds himself drifting off to thoughts about his new neighbor.

-:-:-:-:-:-

The next morning, Steve wakes up to the sight of the sun rising and blinding him through his windows. He needs to hang up his curtains. He stretches and slowly gets out of bed knowing he won’t be able to go back to sleep.

Time to start unpacking. He makes his way to the garage and peaks out the window on his way. All of Eddie’s curtains are drawn, and Steve doubts that he’ll be awake for hours.

When he opens the garage door, he spots something… interesting. Something that will make Eddie’s life a little miserable…

A lawnmower.

Now, Steve knows the lawn doesn’t really need to be mowed at the moment. But to get revenge… it’s worth it.

He still waits a few hours until it’s a somewhat reasonable hour for mowing. He doesn’t want the other neighbors hating him. He decides to start up the lawnmower right next to the window Eddie left open the night before.

A few seconds later, Steve sees the curtains yanked open and the window slammed down. He lets himself smirk a little at the mini tantrum. As he’s finishing up the first strip, he hears the front door to Eddie’s house slam shut even over the lawnmower.

Steve turns the other way to face his and Eddie’s houses as he mows the next strip. He glances up and waves with a big smile. Eddie is swamped in a large black blanket and squinting, or rather glaring as if the sun had personally offended him.

Steve stops the lawnmower and takes a minute to gloat. As the noise dies down, Steve asks, “Not a morning person?”

Eddie just frowns at him. It looks as if he’s taking all his brain power to come up with a response. His voice, low and raspy with sleep replies, “I would be if I had a better view.”

Steve huffs but looks down at his shirt that’s already starting to get a little damp with sweat. The morning sun in the summer is overwhelmingly hot, and Steve doesn’t want the farmer’s tan. He winks at Eddie before stripping his shirt off and tossing it at him.

“Better?” Steve asks as the shirt hits Eddie and falls on the deck.

“Much better, thank you,” Eddie says and has the nerve to join the little skeleton on his porch to sit and watch as Steve mows.

Steve tries not to think too much about it, but he’s overly aware of the attention. Not that he doesn’t like it, but he feels like he’s not winning the war. Time to call in Robin for reinforcement.

-:-:-:-:-:-

The next few days pass by with Eddie playing loudly every night until eleven o’clock when he finally starts playing soft tunes that lull Steve to sleep. Steve pays him back by one morning mowing Eddie’s lawn while he watches. The next morning, he spends weed whacking his own yard, and the next day is spent weed whacking Eddie’s. Every time, Eddie is woken up but sits outside.

If Steve is being completely honest, the music helps him sleep, so he doesn’t feel like he’s losing the war too bad. But today is the day he figures out how to win because it finally worked in Robin’s schedule for her to come over later.

And after Steve shares the whole story after dramatically telling her it’s too much to share over the phone, he regrets it as Robin bursts out laughing. “You’re telling me,” Robin stops to laugh again, “You’re telling me that you’re complaining about going to bed an ‘hour later,’ but the reason you go to bed early is because you struggle to fall asleep. And his music is actually helping you, so you’re basically going to sleep at the same time. Plus, you’re doing his yard work while he ogles you, and you think this is a war?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what this is,” Steve says seriously. No other explanation.

“No, this is a weird mating ritual. God, your neighbors must hate you,” Robin comments before laughing again.

Steve sighs, “Robin, I seriously want to win against this guy. I mean, I even nicely asked him to stop playing so late.”

Robin eyes him. “Did you really?”

“Probably not,” Steve answers honestly, knowing it’s no use to lie to Robin. She figures out everything anyway.

“Here’s a plan,” Robin says opening a box and looking through it. “Why don’t you just ask Eddie’s neighbor what they do when he plays late at night? They clearly have some solution. And the true way to win the ‘war’ is by letting it not affect you anymore. Then, you don’t have to do yard work, and you’ll be taking away his view in the morning.”

…honestly, it’s a great plan. It really is. So much so that it’ll probably stop this whole war thing in its tracks. “No, I have to win this thing,” Steve replies instead of agreeing.

Robin sighs and grabs him by the wrist. “Come with me.” Instead of giving him the option, she practically drags him out the door. “Now, we’re going to meet this next-door neighbor of the infamous Eddie and give you a reasonable solution before you do anything irrational.”

Before Steve can disagree, Robin has him dragged out the door and two houses down. She knocks on the door. “And maybe you’ll see that the solution was so simpl-”

The door opens and out comes the other neighbor. Steve watches as Robin’s jaw drops as she takes in the sight of the shorter girl with curly hair and big blue eyes. “Hi?” The girl says.

Robin’s mouth opens and closes.

“Hey,” Steve says and reaches out his hand to greet her. “I’m your neighbor two houses down, and this is my best friend Robin. Sorry for stopping by in the evening. She was just telling me that I needed to introduce myself to some of the people in the neighborhood. Right, Robin?” Steve prompts when he notices that the girl is eyeing Robin too.

“I’m Nancy,” the neighbor says with a smile. She reaches her hand out to Robin.

“Robin,” Robin blurts out and takes a moment to shake Nancy’s hand.

The two girls shake hands for an embarrassingly long time. And Steve hates to interrupt for Robin’s sake, but he has to ask, “So, we were wondering how you dealt with Eddie’s music at night.” He cringes as he takes in how blunt he is, but he’s honestly curious.

Nancy laughs and replies, “Honestly, it was much worse before you moved. He would play until the early AMs.”

Steve thinks she must be wrong. Maybe he continues playing that lullaby stuff through the night. “You mean the softer lullaby stuff, right?”

Nancy shakes her head with a small smile. “Not at all. I’ve never heard him play like that before. Then again, my solution is noise cancelling headphones.”

Robin smacks Steve on the arm, “I told you the solution was simple. Plus, this really doesn’t sound like war, does it?”

Nancy leans against her doorway and asks, “Is doing his yard work supposed to be war?”

“That’s exactly what I said! See, Steve,” Robin says with a bright smile that Steve notices catches Nancy’s eye.

“Fine, then you two can see what happens when I don’t do anything tomorrow morning,” Steve says resting his hand on his jutted-out hip. Robin’s lip twitches as she holds back on making fun of him for the “mom stance.”

Robin smiles and says, “Well, I don’t have anywhere to be tonight or tomorrow morning, so I will stay the night.”

“I don’t have anywhere for you to sleep so you can’t,” Steve lies, knowing exactly where the air mattress is packed away.

“You can stay here,” Nancy suggests. “I’ll also be up early to spy on the drama.”

Steve recognizes the exact moment Robin processes what she’s said as her eyes widen a bit. “Promise I’m not a murderer,” Nancy says with a wink that seems to further melt Robin’s brain.

As much as Steve doesn’t want to give Robin more reason to make fun of him in the future, he has to give it to Nancy for how direct she is. He thinks he’s gonna like this girl.

“Well, we’ll go grab Robin’s stuff, and she’ll be back shortly. I’m going to crash pretty soon before the show starts,” Steve says with a smile. “It was very nice to meet you.”

“It was nice to meet you, Steve. I’ll see you soon, Robin,” Nancy says with a wave as she closes the door.

“Holy shit.”

“Robin, please save your freak out for a few moments when we get back inside my house. She can see you through the windows.”

Robin whispers under her breath a few more expletives on their quick walk back. “Holy shit!” Robin yells as they get inside.

Oh boy.

A few pacing freak outs, a quick pep talk, and a lot of fixing hair and makeup in the bathroom mirror later and Robin is finally on her way to Nancy’s. Steve watches through his window as she makes her way down the street. He has no idea how the hell it happened, but he’s happy for her.

…hopefully Nancy isn’t a serial killer…

Okay, maybe it’s a bad idea, but Steve needs to ask Eddie. He makes his way out his back door and sneaks over to Eddie’s house to the side window that’s already slightly open. He knocks on it a few times.

Eddie opens the curtains and lifts up the window some more. “Why hello Romeo. Why are you at my window instead of the door? Not that I’m complaining of course.”

“Nancy and my friend are spying on me. But I needed to ask if Nancy is a serial killer.”

Eddie stares at him for a moment. “Have you met Nancy?”

“Yes.”

“Then you know she isn’t a serial killer,” Eddie replies. “Is Robin the girl you were walking and holding hands with earlier?”

“Is that jealousy I’m hearing?”

Eddie shrugs. “Just trying to get in the head of the enemy.” It’s clear that Eddie is trying to be nonchalant about the whole thing but is failing to do so.

Rather than torture him by not answering, Steve quickly insists, “She’s my best friend. And she’s also staying the night at Nancy’s.”

Eddie sits on the window ledge. “Do they know each other?”

“Just met,” Steve says with a wide smile.

Eddie laughs and Steve can’t help but join him. Gosh he looks gorgeous.

Nope. Enemies. Right.

“I always knew Nancy had it in her. So, Robin’s… cool, right? I’ve got to watch out for Nance’s sake,” Eddie says and tucks a strand of hair behind his ear. Steve has the urge to tuck in the other side as well.

“Yeah. She’s great. Incredible really. Always has had my back,” Steve says trying not to gush too much. He needs to get out of this conversation fast before he does something dumb like continue it as if they are friends. “Well, I’m heading off to bed.”

“And I’m heading off to practice,” Eddie says with a wink. “Goodnight, Steve.”

“Goodnight, Eddie,” Steve replies and holds eye contact with him for a moment as he walks away.

Ending this war will probably be a good thing.

-:-:-:-:-:-

The next morning, Steve wakes up at his usual time, but instead of going to his garage, he starts to go through the boxes he hasn’t unpacked. He stares at the pile and sighs, “Yeah, this is gonna suck.”

A few hours later, and there’s a knock at Steve’s door. Probably Robin bored because nothing is happening.

He makes his way to the door and opens it. Not Robin. “Hey, Eddie. What’s up?” Steve asks, leaning against the doorway.

Eddie is weirdly not wrapped up in a blanket. He has his hands in the pockets of black, ripped jeans and rocks back on his heels. “I was just… checking if you’re okay.”

Steve stares at him for a moment and takes in the slight look of worry all over his face. He nods, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Eddie nods back and glances down. “I was just worried because… you weren’t waking me up with the usual ruckus. Thought something must've happened."

"Just unpacking this morning instead," Steve says with a shrug. Better to play it off as if it's nothing rather than giving Eddie the impression of the feelings that have already started to form.

"Right, well. I'll... head back then," Eddie says with a little wave. He makes it about two steps back before he turns around. "Is this about the music? I'll stop playing so late if it's really bothering you."

This is the part where Steve is supposed to say yes to this, send Eddie on his way, then celebrate. But after four days of this routine and so many nights of restful sleep... "No, it's not... it's not that. It’s um...” Steve trails off at a loss for words. “The war’s still on.”

Eddie smiles but it doesn’t seem entirely genuine. “Ah, getting in my head I see. I’ve gotta hand it to you, Steve, you aren’t just looks.”

Steve watches as Eddie leaves, shoulders tense as he walks back to his house. He catches sight of two figures two doors down waving at him. Robin and Nancy look like they’re huddled together, and shit, if Robin can do it so can Steve.

“Eddie!” Steve yells out. Eddie stops in his tracks and slowly turns around. “How about we make a peace treaty over dinner tonight?”

Eddie’s face slowly lights up with a genuine smile. “I’d really like that.”

“Finally!” A voice that sounds a lot like Nancy yells breaking the moment a bit. There’s loud laughter and a celebratory screech that is definitely Robin.

“Tell me,” Eddie says walking toward Steve’s porch, “How does one deal with loud and annoying neighbors?”

Steve laughs. “I have no idea, but I think my answer and Nancy’s will be very different.”

“Oh yeah? What are your answers?” Eddie asks, now walking up the steps.

“Well, you have to ask other questions first like: Are they one hundred percent your type to the point that you start a war with them that turns into you doing their lawn shirtless just to get their attention while they lull you to sleep at night?”

Eddie dramatically taps a finger on his chin and squints off as if he’s searching for the answer. “I have to say that Nancy... her answer will most likely be ‘no’ to that. I’m not sure though. Maybe we should ask her.”

Steve snorts and shoves at Eddie’s arm. Eddie locks eyes with him for a moment, and Steve can’t help but wonder if he could get lost in them forever. “Eddie?”

“Yeah,” Eddie breathes out as his eyes trace over Steve’s face and track down to his lips.

“Want to make that peace treaty over breakfast instead of dinner?”

Eddie smiles. “Absolutely,” he says and walks past Steve into his house before he’s invited inside. Steve can’t even be upset about it.

A glance down the street and Steve sees that Nancy is also heading inside but Robin trails behind looking towards Steve. He lifts his hand up and Robin does the same resulting in a quick air high five. They’re going to have a lot to talk about later.

My bday ficlet to you <3

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie ficlet #stranger things #robin buckley #steddie fanfic #ronance

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norrisleclercf1 · 8 months

Note

Just for carlando can we get a mini lando blurb with a visit from uncle carlos

A/N: Ughhhh Aiden's favorite Uncle visiting him would make that baby so happy

Mini Lando Series Masterlist

Aiden truly loved one person more than his own parents and that was his Uncle Los. Still unable to say Carlos fully, Aiden has stuck to calling him Uncle Los and he has missed him dearly.

The Mini Norris has been begging to see his Uncle for the longest time. Unable to go to Singapore with his Daddy, he was stuck watching the race with you and his annoying brother Caleb.

Lando was well aware how much Aiden was missing Carlos, even more so when you posted a video of Aiden screaming. The little boy could have cared less about his own father getting a podium. Instead, he was decked out in his 55 merch running around screaming Uncle Los.

Carlos saw the video immediately and right then and there booked a flight to London to see his godson. Lando wasn't even aware Carlos was joining until he walked into his jet seeing Carlos there, trophy in hand.

Waking Aiden, the next morning was hard, the poor baby had tuckered himself out. Running wild for the rest of the day, trying to call Uncle Los but with no answer. Lando picked up, and Aiden asked where Uncle Los was first. Betrayal, betrayed by his own son.

"Carlos, you have to be exhausted. Go catch some sleep, Aiden won't be up for hours." You begged the Spainard while your husband stands there with his hands up. "Hey? What about me? I'm the husband and father. What am I? Chopped liver?" Lando grumbles, while you and Carlos watch him trifle through the pantry.

"Lan, I love you. But," "But what? He's, my son!" Lando was jealous. He knew Aiden loved him but given the chance Aiden would go with Carlos if he could. "Calm down, Aiden sees you all the time. It's not easy for him to see Carlos. Now, want to go get Caleb for me?" Lando's face lights up as he rushes down the hall to get his youngest.

Shaking your head, you grab your hidden stash of candy and rip it open. Looking up you stop seeing Carlos stare at you. "Shut up! I'll tell him later." "Am I getting a niece finally?" Carlos whispers, hope and love filling his eyes. "It feels like a boy again." Carlos grumbles but leans over the counter kissing your cheek.

"You missed me didn't you bubba? Yes, you did, you always miss Daddy." Shoving the rest of the candy in your mouth you hide the stash and smile, seeing Caleb and Lando. "Mama!" Caleb whines, reaching out for you while Lando groans handing Caleb off to you. "Do none of my sons love me? Y/n, we need another one please? A little girl?"

Carlos and you share a look, one that Lando misses as he fixes a sippy cup for Caleb. "Talk to me when you win a race." Carlos snickers but stops when the sound of small feet echo in the quiet house. "Uh oh, I think Aiden is awake." Speaking of the devil the little boy all 5 years of him walks in eyes closed.

"Why is he wearing a Ferrari shirt?" Lando whines, Aiden sticking his arms straight up when he hears his Daddy's voice. "Daddy! Up!" He whines, head thrown back trying to stay awake. "I'm coming." Lando coos, scooping him up as Aiden melts into his arms.

"I missed you," Aiden mumbles, rubbing his face in Lando's neck. "Ha! See, at least my boy missed me." Aiden whines at the loudness of Lando's voice. "Lando, he's your son of course he missed you." Carlos points out. Aiden's head rises, but eyes still closed as he tries to figure out where Uncle Los's voice came from.

"Uncle Los?" Slowly but surely, he pries his eyes open and blinks, then rubs them. Vision, clear he stares at Uncle Los, the adults holding their breath as they watch Aiden's brain catchup with what he was seeing.

Lando chuckles as he feels Aiden's body start to shake as he grows excited seeing his favorite person on earth. "UNCLE LOS!" Aiden screeches, Lando and you cringing but Carlos bursts into this wide smile gladly accepting the vibrating preschooler. "Hi Mini Lando." Aiden and Carlos all but melt into each other as Aiden holds onto Carlos with all his strength.

"You're here," All 3 of you look at each other, hearing the choked words. Carlos pulls Aiden back seeing his godson crying. "I'm here, and not going anywhere for a week." Aiden rubs his eyes as he throws himself back into Carlos holding tight.

"Okay, you're moving in." You whisper, your heightened hormones making you choke up. "What? He's not moving in!" Lando bursts, refusing to lose his son's to Carlos. "Lando, our baby is crying. I refuse to let him cry. Carlos you're moving in." Carlos just nods as you tighten your hold on Caleb who just lays there watching everything around him.

"No, he's not moving in." Lando's skin prickles when you cut him a glare that would send any man screaming. "I'll go make up the guest room." He whispers, as Carlos laughs rubbing Aiden's back. "I'm not really moving in, am I?" Carlos asks, somewhat unsure if you're being serious.

"I'm pregnant, Carlos. If you are what keeps my baby from crying, your sure as hell are." Leaving no room for argument. "Okay."

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sim0nril3y · 5 months

Text

12 Days of Kinkmas | Day Two: Cumplay

Note: It's day two of our Kinkmas and this time Simon is filthy. Enjoy, my loves <3 Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), established relationship, p in v, cumplay, cum eating, canon-typical swearing.

The sound of heavy panting filled the room, low grunts and high whimpers, a wet slapping of skin colliding passionately against skin. It was erotic. Your legs were thrown up over Simon’s shoulders as his hips slammed into your own over and over. Your body shook and trembled from the impact of each thrust and all you could do was simply take each sharp snap against your form.

It seemed that Simon was on a whole new level tonight. You had gone out to the pub with some friends and something had clearly set him off because you had barely stepped foot through the door when he had grabbed you, kissed you until you were breathless and demanded who you belonged to, needing you to call out his name in ecstasy.

Simon’s brows furrowed as they focused on every pinch and movement on your pleasured face, beads of sweat trickling down your skin and collecting into your collar bone. He had been fucking into you relentlessly for what felt like hours now, coaxing orgasm after orgasm from your worn body.

“Fuckin’…” Simon growled under his panting breath. “Fuckin’ hell…” He hissed lowly, snapping his hips with very little rhythm now. “Fuck… Fuck…” Voice strained and muscles wound tight Simon was unable to hold back any longer, pressing his hips shamelessly hard against your own, making sure to bury himself to the hilt as he pumped you full of his load. “Fuck…” Simon whispered, forehead pressed against your own, cock pulsing inside your sensitive walls. “Good girl…” He complimented. “Tight little cunt takes everything I give her, eh?” A breathless laugh followed as he ground his hips tightly.

The two of you stayed trapped there, his hips pressed hard against your own, ensuring that his cum stayed planted deep inside. Kissing your forehead softly Simon leaned back to be kneeling between your legs and observed the way a mixture of your cum leaked out around his softening cock. “Fuck…” He whispered, glancing up at your fucked out face and asking. “Y’thirsty, babe?”

You gifted him a heavy nod as you answered. “Y-yeah.” Squeaking as you felt his cock finally pulling from your walls, gasping when you felt his mouth suddenly on you. Gazing down your body you flushed as Simon lapped and suckled at your overly sensitive cunt, tongue curling inside your recently pummelled walls to collect his cum that was seeping out and once he was satisfied Simon climbed up your farm, leaning over your face and quirking his brows at you.

As if being able to read his mind, you pried your lips open and allowed Simon to deposit a long string of his cum into your mouth, humming the second that it hit your tongue. You accepted every last bit, collecting it across your tongue, waiting until Simon finally commanded. “Swallow.” You did without hesitation, gulping it back and then reopening your mouth as proof that you’d followed his orders. “Good girl~”

A sweet and proud giggle fell from your lips, leaning up to peck his lips before whispering. “Jokes aside, I’m actually thirsty…” You pouted cutely then and Simon smirked and nodded. “I’ll sort that…”

12 Days of Kinkmas | Regular Masterlist | Ask | 15-12-2023

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nisuna · 3 months

Text

Here comes the winner of the poll yaayyy~~

Okay so as many of you may know my female reader characters are often very confident and experienced boss bitches haha. Mainly bcs I'm usually like that, but I wanted to try out something else for my other girlies >><< So I present to you soft-dom!gojo x shy!glasses!f!reader hope you enjoy<3

<3masterlist<3

TW: lingerie, riding, unprotected sex, wall sex, whipped gojo, groping, neck sucking, a bit of dirty talk, pet names; princess, creampie ~2k words

------------------strictly 18+ MDNI------------------

"Satoru wait!" you tried to keep your voice down while slapping your hands over his mouth.

"What's wrong?", he mumbled against them.

You were currently backed up against a wall in between the arms of your lunatic of a boyfriend. His knee was prying your legs open and your dress was bunched up. What's worse you were in a library. How cliché.

All you could do was look away and try your best to calm down. When you still weren't answering he kissed your hand that was in front of his mouth as he pulled away.

"We've done it a bunch what are you so embarrassed about."

You felt your jaw drop to the floor. "You're asking me what I'm so embarrassed about?? We're in public. What do you mean mh-"

Before you could finish your sentence he stole a quick peck and pulled away with a grin. You wanted to whack that grin off of his face but all you could do was cover your face in embarassment.

"Geeezzzz", you groaned, leaning your head against his chest.

"You don't want to do it?"

His question made you look up at him.

"Of course I do! It's just.."

"Hm?", he hummed, turning his head to the side to catch a glimpse of your pouty face.

"Not here. Let's go somewhere else."

"Aye, captain."

-------

Somewhere else turned out to be your shared apartment. He was a bit disappointed, but didn't waste any time pulling at your dress and squishing your soft flesh between his long fingers. He'll convince you to have sex with him in public someday for sure. Somehow, you made it to your bedroom and he sat down on the bed, making you stand between his spread legs.

As he was about to pull your pretty little sundress over your head, you stopped him.

"W-wait!"

"What's wrong?", he questioned, halting all movements.

"Just close your eyes for a second. I have a surprise for you." He gave you a nod before covering his eyes with his huge hands grinnig like an idiot.

You took a deep breath, mustering all of your courage before slipping out of your dress. Now you stood there, bare with just the almost non-existent fabric of the red lingerie covering you. You pressed your eyes and lips together, putting your arms behind your back.

"Okay, you can look now.."

"Oh, this oughtta be good", he thought to himself before opening his eyes and having the wind knocked out of his lungs at the sight before him. There you stood, eyes closed in embarassment and almost completely bare. He had to stop himself before his jaw dropped to the floor. Now he realised why you asked him which colour was his favourite for you to wear. Sneaky little thing you are.

The strings of your tiny panties were digging into your soft hips and the garter on one of your thighs was squishing it so deliciously we wanted to put his dick right between your legs. He was so mesmerized by the sight that he forgot to say anything at all which made you extremely self conscious. So you wanted to save yourself from further embarassment as you began to cover your body with your arms.

"God, do you hate it that much?? Why aren't you saying anything? I was so stupid for thinking you'd-"

Before you could finish your rant, he pried your arms away from your body and pulled you close so your face was right in front of his. That made you finally open your eyes as you blinked at him oh so innocently.

"Look at what you did to me. How could I hate it?", he asked before pulling your hand over his already throbbing cock. You let out a shriek as he began grinding against your hand and went to kiss your neck, grabbing a handful of your lace covered tits.

"I wanna fuck you so bad, but I want to keep you in those panties longer. What to do, what to do.", he mumbled, pulling at the fabric of your panties and letting one of the straps snap against your hip, leaving a red mark.

"Well, it can't be helped.", he said, already trying to pull them down over your plump ass.

"Wait! We... we can just pull them to the side.", you looked away and continued. "I've read something about that online. Guy apparently go crazy for that..."

"Fuck", he groaned against your chest. "You're gonna be the death of me."

"What? You don't like it? I mean, we don't have to it was just an idea."

"No that's not what I mean. I'm just trying my best to hold back. But I don't think I can much longer if you keep talking to me like that."

"Then don't hold back anymore.. give it to me hard."

He couldn't believe his ears. That was his final straw as he slammed you on the bed. This is the first time he ever saw you so daring, if it wasn't for his raging hard on he would've fainted on the spot. How could you be so perfect for him. You were usually so shy and cute for him where did all of this come from?

"Wait, hold on. My glasses, they're gonna get all messed up, let me-", as you went to take them off, they were pushed back up your nose.

"Keep them on today. You look so cute in them. Makes me wanna corrupt you." Gulp.

He didn't waste any more time, pulling your panties to the side and sliding his cock through your wet lips. "Fuck, I've always wanted to try fucking you in something like this." he hissed dipping his tip in your cunt.

"Shit", you moaned covering your face and mouth only to have your hands pulled away and lips attached to the shell of your ear whipering. "Don't hide from me, princess. Let me see those lewd expressions, hm?"

Before you could protest he was already pressing into you. So all you were able to do was arch your back and and dig your nails into his biceps. He immediately started moving. It felt good, but something was off.

"Wait.. stop!"

"What's wrong? Does it hurt?? I'm sorry." Before he could pull out, you stopped him.

"No, that's not it. I just want to try something different today..." you trailed off and he was all ears.

"Lay back. I wanna ride you."

Oh you were full of surprises today, so he immediately obliged, pulling you on top of him.

"Take it slow, no pressure. Tell me when you get tired and I'll- oh fuck." Now it was his turn to throw his head back and dig his nails into your plush thighs as you sank down on his cock in one smooth motion.

"Just shut up and take it."

Where did you learn to talk like that?? He was so taken aback that he couldn't even tease you like he usually would. He was the flustered one now and you were totally digging it.

You weren't used to moving on your own, but you wanted to try your best. You soon found a good rhythm and your hand slipped between your legs and went to work on your sensitive clit. As you were bouncing on his cock your glasses kept slipping off your nose a bit, but you didn't pay too much attention to that. There was however someone that paid incredible attention to that little detail.

Satoru was mesmerised by the sight in front of him. The red lace looked amazing against your skin and the way the wfabric was cutting into your soft skin made his mouth water. You looked incredibly lewd and sexy. It made him want to eat you alive. But he held back and enjoyed the show. The show soon came to its climax as you let go and creamed all over his cock. Soft moans and mewls of his name left your pretty lips and he swore he fell in love all over again. Even after your orgasm you continued to ride him, starting to get overstimulated but really wanting to make him cum as well. He definitely could've cum from you bouncing on his cock alone, but he felt daring as well. He halted your hips with firm hands, lifting you off of his cock. You were dumbfounded.

"Satoru what's wrong?", you got worried. He however calmed you down with a peck to your lips.

"You're so horny today and that makes me want to try something new as well. Stand up and lean against the wall."

You didn't protest, making your way over to where he was standing and blinking up at him in confusion.

All he did was give you a soft smile, grabbing you by the ass and lifting you off of the floor.

"Wait hold on this is ah-, you shrieked, wrapping your arms around his neck and holding onto him for dear life. Your legs were tightly wrapped around his slim waist and his hands were cupping your ass oh so perfectly.

"My turn~" he purred into your ear. "Be good and take it.", he smirked, maneuvering his cock back inside of you and making your back hit the wall behind you as he was pounding into you from below.

Damn him, but who cares when he was almost fucking your cervix with how huge he was in comparison to your small frame. You didn't notice how loudly you were moaning at his every thrust before he spoke up. "Feel that good huh? Fuck you're so tight and tiny.", he groaned, licking a thick stripe up your neck.

"Mhm, you're all the way in my tummy.", you cried and his lips were quick to kiss away your tears before latching themselves back onto your sensitive neck.

His cock was rubbing against the flimsy fabric of your panties and he was sure he wouldn't last any longer.

"Tell me what you want. Want me to cum inside? Want me to fill you up until your tummy 's about to burst?"

You frantically nodded your head, crashing your lips against his and digging your nails into his back with anticipation.

"Fuck- say it.", he whispered against your lips. You were so high on his cock that every ounce of embarassment went out of the window as you begain to moan.

"Pleeease Satoru. Fill me up, need it so bad!! Make me nice and plump pleeaseee."

Before you could finish your sentence, you already felt him spill inside you with a low groan and bite to your shoulder. The way your nails were digging into his back almost drew blood.

He wasn't usually this vocal during sex, but he was a mess right now, continuing to rut his softening cock into you, letting out pathetic whines. You were so messy as well, your hair was sticking to your sweaty forehead and your glasses were all fogged up.

He felt like he was about to faint, but his grip on you never loosened. He was gentle when he set you down, kissing the top of your head. Your panties were definitely soiled now. You whined when you felt his cum drip down your thigh and onto the garter. But it couldn't drip down any further because thick long fingers collected all of it, plunging themselves into your cunt.

"What are you mh-", you were interrupted by puffy lips on yours and a tongue prying open your mouth.

"No way in hell I'm done with you yet. This is only the beginning. What happened to my cute little girlfriend? Surprise me some more, why don't you~"

Oh boy.

-------

I'd love to hear your thoughts!! See ya next time xoxo

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ghouljams · 30 days

Note

The only foil Gaz has in his little scheme of fucking his pretty clients? Rich business man Price and his pretty wife. Prices’ wife? The most oblivious bimbo he’d ever met. He wants to nail her *so* bad but, she doesn’t pick up on his ‘double meanings’ or anything! She just paid his estimate outright, (full price! The jacked up price!!! wtf?)

“I’m sorry, I’m not good at manual labor!!! I’d probably knock down the building, lol!” And prances off. She dresses like a tease, tiny skirts, tight shirts, heels, nice hair, pretty makeup.

She’s got daddy Price paying for her and Price finds deep, endless amusement in Gaz going crazy trying to get her to understand what type of ‘manual labor’ he’s talking about. Every time Gaz tries to flat out tell her he wants to f- Price walks by, blue balling Gaz because he can’t proposition his clients wife right in front of him!!! Gaz gets blue balled *again.*

And Price keeps hiring him too! He has the money, so why not? Gaz really amuses him, it turns him on to have someone chasing after his pretty wife *so* bad, and imagine how great it will be when Price finally lets Gaz have her?

Maybe they can have Gaz over for just sex without the fake excuse of ‘building’ or ‘remodeling’

(Bonus: if Price overhears Gaz’s double entendres, he comes in bends over the marble counter like ‘oooooh, this is how I get the discount, I can do that’ because he thinks Blue collar Gaz is hot too, why does his wife get to be the only one nailed over their new counter? And his wife is like ‘oh- oooooh! OOOOOOH!’ Sparkles in her eyes ‘now’ she get’s it!!! Well why didn’t he just *say* so!!! And drops to her knees. Yeah, They all take the new marble counter for a spin.)

The problem... the problem...

The problem is I want Gaz to fuck that old man over the marble counter now. Gaz plays for both teams, if he can't get the bimbo wife, he'll take the hot older husband. Price wants to bend over the counter, Gaz'll press his hand firm between Price's shoulders and his hips firm against his ass. A little surprising for Price, he was joking(sort of) because that's the fun of it. His wife isn't getting it but he is, and it should be a good haha laugh it off moment of "I know what you've been doing." But Gaz presses his weight down against Price and tells him he'll do just as well.

"Can probably take it better than the bird, isn't that right sir?" He murmurs, his cock already starting to stiffen against Price.

The ideal end to this scenario is Gaz fucking Price over that shiny new counter, Price's eyes rolling back as he grunts out moans and Gaz bites his shoulder, pretty wife sat on her knees behind Gaz licking his balls and occasionally dipping back to eat his ass. Both of them really should be thanking him for doing so much work on their house, and for teasing him so long. He wants Price white knuckling the counter, shooting his load all over his wife's tits as she tongues Gaz's ass. He'll fill Price and then move on to the bird.

"When's the last time someone took care of you properly," Gaz asks Price, leaning back to spread Price's cheeks apart, watching his cock getting swallowed greedily with each thrust. Price mumbles out some answer, well before he was married, and sorely missed. Gaz hums with a smile, "Might have to start staying late then, make sure you're satisfied with my services."

Don't think Gaz isn't eager to get the wife over the counter too. Stripping the condom off his thick cock when he's done with Price and lifting the giggly wife off her knees to fuck her raw. Normally he's safer about this sort of thing, never know where a housewife has been, but he doubts she's smart enough to be sleeping around. So he bounces her on his cock until she's shaking and clinging to him, stifling moans by biting his shoulder. He'll leave her dripping come so Price can eat it out of her.

"You know," Gaz tells them, gathering his things, "You really could do with a couple French doors out to the garden."

"When can you start?" Price asks.

"How's tomorrow work?" Gaz grins.

#kyle gaz garrick #gaz modern warfare #gaz cod #gaz call of duty #gaz garrick #captain price mw2 #captain john price #captain price #gaz x price #cod x reader #x reader #f!reader #blue collar au #i dont know what happened there #I want that old man moaning

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five-rivers · 2 months

Text

Cracked Clay Cup

for @greatbigolhampuckjustforme

“Are you awake?”

Until he heard that question, the answer to it would have been a resounding no. However, he was awake now, so he pried his eyes open to squint at whoever had interrupted his sleep.

“Maybe,” he mumbled into a fluffy pillow.

“Excellent. Then we can start the questionnaire.”

In his opinion, it was far too early for a questionnaire. On the other hand, the creeping feeling that something wasn't quite right was creeping its way up his spine. He levered himself out of his blanket cocoon and into a sitting position. Then he retrieved his blanket, wrapping it around his shoulders. He wanted to be cozy.

“Questionnaire?” he asked.

“Indeed. It’s not long.”

“Um, okay. What are you doing in, um…” This… wasn’t his bedroom. He was pretty sure this wasn’t his bedroom. Or any place he’d seen before.

He also didn’t think he’d seen the ghost before, which added an air of surrealism to the whole situation.

“Who are you?” he asked, looking the ghost up and down. He was tall and broad-shouldered, dressed in purple, with a hooded cloak thrown around his shoulders. There was a rectangular hole in his chest, and in the hole was a pendulum and clock face.

“That is, in fact, one of the questions I have to ask you.” The ghost showed him the back of a clipboard and produced a pen from thin air.

“Um, that, um.” He frowned. “Who am I, or who are you?”

“Yes,” said the ghost. “But let us start at the beginning. Do you know who you are?”

“Well, yeah, sure, I’m… Um. I’m. I…” It should have been an easy question. It should have been a question he didn’t even have to think about, which is why he didn’t. But he didn’t even have the echo of an answer.

“I will mark that down as a no.”

“Wait, wait,” he said, “what’s going on, who am I?”

“I have to go through the whole questionnaire before I answer your questions, I’m afraid. Those are the rules.”

“I… okay?”

“Do you recognize me in any capacity?”

“Nope. Am I supposed to?”

“Excellent. Next question, do you know where you are?”

He shook his head. “Somewhere in the Ghost Zone, I think.”

“Do you know what year it is?”

“Um. Two thousand five? Or, uh, six?” He shrugged. Something like that. It was a little blurry.

“How old are you?”

“Teenage?”

“Can you describe yourself?”

“Um… Forgetful?”

“Physically,” clarified the ghost.

He looked down. He was covered in blankets and therefore unable to see so much as an inch of skin. He crossed his eyes to look at his nose. “White,” he said, finally. “Probably. And a guy. Is that a physical thing?”

The ghost made a note on the clipboard. “And how would you describe your parents? Your family?”

“Uh. They probably… exist.”

“Very good. Favorite band?”

“Dumpty Humpty. Why do I know that and not my name?”

“Please hold your questions until the end. Favorite food?”

“Milkshake. Kiwi fudge. That’s weird. That’s weird, isn’t it?”

“No weirder than a cheese puff and bacon milkshake.”

“Huh. Is it weird that I want to try that now?”

“Somewhat, but not horribly so.”

He gazed at the ghost silently for several long seconds. The ghost gazed back. This was already an awkward situation, but it was getting worse by the second.

“So… what’s the next question?”

“That was the last question. As you can doubtlessly tell, I am now answering your questions.”

He probably should have noticed that, actually. He leaned forward, eager. “Great, so, uh, what’s going on? Why don’t I remember anything?”

“Your memory was removed in preparation for legal proceedings.” Was it just him, or did the ghost seem… displeased about that?

“Uh… that seems sort of backwards, doesn’t it? If I’m supposed to testify or defend myself, shouldn’t I at least remember what it is I’m doing?”

“That would be true if you were testifying or defending yourself.”

“Okay… So… What am I doing?”

“You are the subject of an extensive custody dispute.”

“And… that means I need to get my memory erased why?”

“We ghosts have a different method of settling custody disputes. We prefer it if the child in question decides who to be with.”

“I kind of feel as if that’d also be easier with my memories.”

“On the contrary, memories can often lead to people choosing to stay in unpleasant situations. For example, memories might create a sense of debt, sentiment, or honor that would prevent an objective decision based on current reality.” The ghost said this as if he was reciting the phrase from rote memory.

“That seems… wrong, somehow. Like, there’s a missed assumption or something.”

“Be that as it may be, it is how we do things.”

“‘We’ being ghosts.”

“Correct.”

“Am I a ghost?” This felt like another of those things he should just know, but, as before, he just didn't.

“An unusual kind, but yes.”

“I'm dead?”

“You died, yes. Whether or not ghosts count as dead is a matter of scholarly debate.”

Well. Okay, then. He didn’t know what to say to that. He sort of thought being dead would have more impact, but maybe it was hard to mourn for a life he didn't remember. Or maybe he'd been dead for long enough that he'd already processed all the implications, and that had stuck around subconsciously. Like the name of his favorite band.

That was still weird.

“So… What happens now? Do you lead me out into the courtroom, see who I run to? Do some kind of genetic test? What are the rules here?”

“On the contrary, we have taken measures to keep your biological family from having an unfair advantage based on resemblance. No. What will happen is that, as a trial, you will spend a few days with each group that put themselves forward as potential guardians. They have acquired housing appropriate for a young ghost, and have been… reviewed… to prevent abuses or other troubles. You may leave their temporary guardianship whenever you choose. However, once you leave, you will not be able to return to them until and unless you choose them at the end of these trials. Between the potential guardians, you will stay here with me.”

There were so many troubling things in that explanation that he didn’t even know where to start.

“So… the courtroom thing, but drawn out.”

“I suppose so, if you choose to look at it that way.”

“Right. So, um. What’s my name?”

“It’s Daniel.”

“Great. Okay. Cool.” Daniel rubbed his eyes. Despite all the heart-attack inducing things he was learning about today, he was still half-asleep. Maybe it was a memory-wipe side-effect. “You know, this is kind of messed up. Some kind of weird reverse fairy tale kind of thing. Like that story where someone has to pick the right girl when she’s been turned into a flower and there are two other flowers. Why do I know that?”

“Unfortunately, I am not allowed to give you that information. I am here to tell you the rules and make sure you are… able to do this.”

“To make sure you guys didn’t nuke my brain, you mean?”

“To some degree, yes. But this is also frequently rather emotional, at least that is my understanding. You are handling it remarkably well.”

“Oh, I’m just delaying my breakdown until after I see what I look like. Better to have some idea of what my body is capable of in terms of punching walls and all that.”

“Wise,” said the ghost, with a small smile. “There is a bathroom just through that door if you wish to examine yourself physically.”

“I’ll do that, in a bit. But, first, um. You keep saying we and us. Who is that? Who’s doing this? I mean, ghosts, sure, but more specifically?”

“The legal system of the Ghost Zone.”

“Which is… Who? Exactly? The Observants?”

“You remember that. Interesting. But, yes, they are, for better or worse.”

“And you? What's your position?”

“I am merely a neutral monitor selected by the Observants.”

“Monitor, huh?”

“I feel as though it would be misleading of me to call myself an observer under these circumstances.”

Daniel nodded. “I can understand that. I guess. Is that, um, your usual job? Taking care of kids like this?”

“I’m afraid not. I work for the Observants in another capacity.”

“What capacity?”

“That would be one of the things I am not permitted to tell you.”

“Okay, and what’s up with that? Why can’t you tell me things?”

“I am not allowed to give you information regarding your own past, including contextual information.”

Daniel frowned at the ghost. “That sort of implies that I knew you, though, doesn’t it?”

“I can neither confirm nor deny that.”

“Cool,” said Daniel. “That’s helpful. You’re not in the running for my… whatever I should call this. My guardianship?”

The ghost nodded. “That is an acceptable term, but I must remind you that I am a neutral monitor.”

“Sure. Right.” There were other questions he could ask, other questions he should ask, but his brain felt fried. Did he have a brain, being a ghost and all? Or was he just, like… goo?

Yeah, no, he wasn’t going to ask that. He was going to go do something more… concrete. Bathroom time. He was sure it would be just as harrowing, especially with the implication that his appearance had been changed somehow, but he could be brave.

He shuffled to the edge of the bed and swung his legs over. He frowned at the cold floor and decided to take the blankets with him. Then, he realized one of his questions had gone unanswered.

“Hey, um. What’s your name? You never did say.”

“You can call me Clockwork. And when you are done in the bathroom, I have breakfast waiting downstairs.”

Daniel heaved himself up and went to the bathroom, looking over his shoulder at Clockwork as he went.

This was just… really weird. Should he try to escape? Like, even if Clockwork was telling the truth about everything, this wasn’t exactly what he would call a good situation. But if this was the lie, then what was the truth? The truth was always worse, when people were lying like that.

… Not that Daniel could come up with any specific examples of that. It was more of a feeling.

Soft lights came on in the bathroom as he stepped in. It was… a bathroom. He was sure he’d been in other bathrooms before. This one had a purple-on-lavender color scheme and a large bathtub. The fixtures were brass. In other words, it resembled Clockwork to a surprisingly high degree. Daniel wondered if he lived here normally, or if he’d just been the one to decorate. Or if someone with a sense of irony had decorated it for him.

Whichever. Maybe he’d ask Clockwork about it and see if he answered. It was harmless enough, compared to some of the questions he could ask.

There was also a mirror. He stared at it.

His skin was a sort of tan pink, awash with freckles. His hair was white. His eyes were glowing and green. His ears were long and pointed, curving up around the sides of his face to sit on the top of his head. The blankets were also purple, funnily enough. Huh.

He leaned closer, squinting. What kind of ears were those, anyway? He had to assume he didn’t have them when he was alive and human. Cat? Dog? Fox? It wasn’t an automatic ghost thing, either, since Clockwork didn’t seem to have them, although that hood could likely hide a lot.

If he had animal ears, did he have anything else? Maybe some cool slit pupils? He leaned even closer, over the counter. Maybe? They might be slitted? He alternately blinked and widened his eyes, trying to make his pupils change sizes.

Yes! They were slitted! Cool!

Which put better odds on this being a fox or cat thing than a dog thing. Dogs had round pupils.

Next question: did he have a tail?

He swung the blankets off his shoulders and folded them up so he could set them on the counter. He was, surprise surprise, wearing purple pajamas. But he also had a large, fluffy tail. He petted it. It was very fluffy.

Excellent. He’d always wanted a tail. Well, he’d wanted one for the few minutes he’d been aware there was a possibility he could have one. Very nice. Good feeling. Soft.

It also seemed very unfamiliar.

Precautions.

Right.

The smile slid off his face. Well. On reflection, he didn’t think Clockwork was lying to him, but he really needed to know more about him to make a real determination. Just like he needed to make a determination about his potential ‘guardians.’

This was giving him real adoption scam vibes. Which was weird, because he’d’ve thought that’d be one of the memories they’d erase if they wanted to do that. Maybe memory erasure was just… really inexact. That sounded like a possibility. Maybe there was some other weird scam going on.

Only one way to find out. He washed up, then left the bathroom and navigated towards the stairs.

The stairs were also purple.

Daniel was definitely leaning towards this place being decorated by someone with a weird sense of humor. A non-Clockwork someone. There weren’t nearly enough clocks for this place to have been designed by someone named Clockwork. You had to be really into clocks to name yourself Clockwork.

“Welcome,” said Clockwork, smiling at Daniel from the center of the purple kitchen. “There are pancakes.” He gestured to the table. “And the file next to them has the names of your potential guardians. Why don’t you read through them and see who you might like to stay with first.”

“You want me gone so soon?” asked Daniel, sliding into his seat.

“You are welcome to stay here for as long as you want, but then you won’t get your memories back.”

“I can get my memories back?” asked Daniel, looking up sharply.

“Yes, they will be returned after you make your choice,” said Clockwork. He turned back to the stove. “Hashbrowns? Eggs? Sausage?”

“Um,” said Daniel, who was gradually realizing how hungry he was. “All of them?”

“Of course.”

Daniel turned his attention back to the file folder, then flipped it open. Time to see who he was being… adopted by? Was that the right term here?

The first page had seven groups of names, bullet pointed. It was also done in calligraphy, which was certainly a contrast to the plain manila folder it was stored in.

“Anyone catch your eye?” asked Clockwork, setting down a plate with eggs and sausage on it.

“Does it matter which order I do this in?”

“Not at all.”

“So I could start at the end.”

“Indeed.”

“Great,” said Daniel. “Then let’s start there. After breakfast.”

#danny phantom #phic phight #fic

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wileys-russo · 7 months

Note

can we maybe get a blurb about bf ale comforting reader after a nightmare? she just screams warmth and calm and i need that in my life

three things II a.putellas

alexia's eyes fluttered open as she felt a sudden eratic movement beside her, the catalan blinking groggily as her sight adjusted to the dimly lit room, able to make our your silhouette sat at the end of the bed, shoulders hunched over as she heard your loud and labored breathing fill the bedroom.

"amor?" she rasped out, sitting up and running a hand through her hair. when you didn't respond the girl frowned, crawling forwards and gently tugging on the back of your top. you jumped about a foot in the air as she did, alexia quickly withdrawing her hand.

"hey. amor what has happened?" your girlfriend asked quietly, accent even thicker in her half asleep state, moving to throw the covers off and slowly standing, coming to squat on the floor between your legs.

her hazel eyes shone with concern as her hands came to rest on your knees, gently rubbing your legs as her heart broke seeing the obvious discomfort and distress in your features.

"it felt so real i-" you mumbled, burying your face in your hands and letting out a small sob you tried to muffle. "oh princessa." alexia whispered realizing you'd clearly had a bad dream of sorts, standing up and pulling your head to rest on her stomach as she gently cradled you.

"you are safe, you are here with me. and i would not ever let anything bad happen to you baby." alexia promised over and over, one hand scratching at your scalp as the other gently rubbed your back, feeling your tears wet her skin, the taller girl only clad in boxers and a plain black sports bra, the night air thick with the heat of a barcelona summer.

"come on princessa." alexia cooed gently after awhile as you started to calm, still clutching tightly onto her as she gently pried away your hands and helped you back into bed with her.

the older girl sat up against the headboard of her bed, sitting you in between her legs resting against her chest as her hands found your shoulders, gently massaging away the growing tension in your upper body.

"three things you can see bonita." alexia whispered, kissing tenderly behind your ear, knowing exactly how to ground you as you nodded, heart still racing a million miles in your chest.

"the desk, your notebook and your medal." you mumbled quietly, trying to even out your breathing, head still reeling and trying to work out if you were still awake or somehow dreaming.

"three things you can feel." alexia mumbled as she kissed your neck softly, hands slipping down to wrap around your stomach protectively, your head slumping tiredly against her shoulder.

"your lips, the bed sheets and your hands." you answered, squeezing your eyes shut as alexia whispered sweet nothings in your ear, the older girl showering you with praise.

"now three things you can smell, you're doing so good hermosa." your girlfriend promised as you finally started to come back down to earth with her. "lavender, nala's bed, you." you breathed out a little shakily, desperately trying to focus on the way alexias short nails scratched your abs, her lips lovingly trailing their own treasure map across your neck.

"and three things you can hear baby." alexia spoke, gently guiding you to lay down with her, strong arms never leaving their rightful place wrappped around your torso. you took a moment to listen, closing your eyes again as alexias lips lingered on your forehead, mumbling tender adorations into your sweat dampened skin.

"the trees moving with the wind, the cars driving outside and..." you struggled to hear anything else, mind becoming fuzzy as alexia wrapped you up tightly in her love.

"hey it's fine amor. you did so good, so so good. my pretty girl, my best girl." alexia praised you, squeezing you tighter as you nodded, starting to feel yourself slip back into what you prayed would be a dreamless slumber.

"go to sleep mi corazón i will be right here beside you, forever and always."

#alexia putellas x reader #woso x reader #woso #woso blurbs #woso imagine #woso fanfics #alexia putellas #fcb femeni

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sourpatchys · 8 months

Text

Title: Warm Showers

Rating: fluff! 15+

Word count: 1.6k

Setting: The early days of Alexandria

Summary: Daryl Dixon isn’t afraid of anything. At least— he’s not afraid of anything physical. However the thought of belonging, that chills him to his core.

Basically! My friend asked me if I could write up something fluffy regarding Daryl’s lack of hygiene in Alexandria, and I simply couldn’t resist.

The first night you were able to sleep in your own bed was one you cherished more than anything.

Never in your life did you think a mattress could, or would ever, make you feel so utterly blissful. The soft sheets against your newly cleaned skin felt like heaven.

Of course, you weren’t alone. Daryl had stayed with you.

Your relationship with the archer was never a spoken fact, neither of you confirmed or denied your closeness to one another.

You supposed it started after the prison fell, maybe even before that. When he saw you were alive, with nothing more than a few nicks and bruises— he ran to you.

Of course he ran to Carol as well, but Carol didn’t get a tearful kiss on the forehead.

The one and only kiss the two of you had ever shared.

Even sleeping right next to one another, your lips never met, not each others, and not the skin between.

It was nice in a way, having someone all to yourself with no expectations. Especially being on the road as you were.

Every night, he sat by you until you fell asleep, and every morning he was there— ready to start the day with you.

He had held your hand on the way into Alexandria, dangling his dead possum in the other. You supposed he’d always been a bit feral.

The first few nights, you hadn’t showered. You were too afraid of having to leave again, you didn’t trust the water, you didn’t trust the food, you weren’t even sure if you could trust yourself.

Once rick had given the go ahead however, you took him at his word, and finally, even a bit reluctantly, you dropped your guard.

It had been a few days since then. And you didn’t know being a person could feel so good.

The hot water seared through your skin like cotton, the food felt like a warm hug, and you— for better or for worse, felt like you again. Albeit a different version of you, but it was still, undeniably, you.

Daryl however, wasn’t adjusting. Even as he slept next to you, his mind never stopped racing. His clothes stayed dirty, his food was only what he could find, and he wasn’t sure who he was supposed to be. Let alone how he should feel.

Sleeping next to you was the only thing that kept him there. Knowing you would wake up in the morning, with the same warm skin and glowing eyes as always— that’s what he looked forward too— that was his reason to live.

He didn’t need to understand himself, he didn’t need to feel a certain way, because he had you by his side, alive and breathing.

Slipping into bed that night, he felt you tense, and he heard a sharp nervous breath come through your lips.

“Why haven’t you showered yet?”

It was a question at the forefront of your mind, you knew why you took so long, you knew it was an adjustment. You wanted to know his reasoning though, if he even had one. Surely he felt that same itch under his skin that you had felt, that need to be clean but the fear of losing what you’d come to know.

He turned his head to you, his narrow eyes holding something you couldn’t place.

“Don’ need to.”

It was a very simple answer to an otherwise very complex question.

You turned your body on its side, curling up into yourself, your head flush against the soft cotton of the pillows.

“Are you afraid?”

Even with your relationship developing past more than just an average friendship, this was the first time, in all your time together, that you had ever pried into his mind.

Usually, if he wanted you to know something, he’d just tell you. He trusted you in a way he’d never felt with anyone else. But after Beth’s death, he stopped sharing. You really couldn’t help but voice your questions out loud anymore, otherwise you’d be in the dark forever.

He scoffed, turning his head away from you, a visible frown on his face.

“Ain’t afraid of nothin’.”

He was. And you knew that. He was afraid of being alone, yet afraid of being a part of something at the same time.

“I— I could help. I’ll scrub your back if you scrub mine?” You let out a nervous laugh, your humor was never in good taste.

You didn’t get an answer. His eyes just stared at the ceiling, counting any crack or imperfection he could find. In truth, he wasn’t sure why he hadn’t cleaned himself.

At the beginning, he felt that same distrust that you had, that same fear of the unknown.

But now that everyone was adjusting, now that everyone had a job— even him. He just didn’t understand himself.

He could make a snippy remark about how he’d just get dirty again, he could snap at you and curse you for being too trusting too soon. But he didn’t want to.

Maybe a part of him just didn’t want to be vulnerable. The thought of himself enjoying hot water, enjoying fresh home cooked meals— while everyone else was out being productive— protecting what you’d found. It genuinely made him sick to his stomach.

Why hadn’t he showered?

He was afraid. He didn’t want to belong, he didn’t feel like he deserved to belong. He had to protect. Caring for himself didn’t fit into that role.

So after he was done searching the ceiling for answers, he turned to you again.

“M’ fine with that.”

Your eyes widened a bit, searching his for a moment.

“Fine with what?”

“You helpin’.”

If he was going to be vulnerable— he would only ever do it with you.

The trip to the shower was a strange one. You never expected your attempts at humor to get you anywhere in this world— but there you were— sneaking around the house with a man made of stone.

The two of you (just you) had decided a bath was the easiest way to go about it. Even with the hot water being limited during the day, you couldn’t imagine anyone else would be bathing at this hour. And you weren’t sure if the steady stream of the shower would hold its temperature long enough for the task at hand.

For a moment, you had tried to turn around, attempting to give the archer his privacy as he undressed— but it was quickly shadowed by the realization that you’d have to see him in the tub anyways.

The scars on his back were visible to you for a few seconds before he plopped himself in the warm water, leaning against the back wall. You decided to store that particular memory for another time, you’d asked enough questions for one night.

Your thoughts were soon interrupted by a very familiar gruff voice.

“You commin’?”

Daryl was leaning against the back of the tub with his knees raised and his arms on either side— he had made room for you.

You couldn’t help the surprised noise you made as you pointed to yourself in disbelief.

“Me?”

“You said you’d scrub me down— so hop to it then.”

The whole ordeal had become routine. You really couldn’t say you minded.

While being alone was nice, you’d become accustom to being in a pack of several— and now, it was a pack of two. You were alone together, even on your most vulnerable moments.

Every night, once everyone had gone to bed, the two of you would sneak away to bask in the hot, cotton like water. And once finished, Daryl would let you brush his hair, and you’d sneak right back into bed.

Carol had noticed the change. She had asked you how you’d managed to get him to shower, cracking a joke about how she was debating downing him with a hose.

You just laughed along, not giving her an answer. No one needed to know about your nightly exchange.

Tonight was no different than any other. The scratchy, but soft, soapy rag dragged along your skin. The rose scented suds carving their way down your body by the second as the hot, blissful water rained down on your bodies.

This was what heaven felt like— you were sure of it.

Rinsing out your own rag, you turned to grab another, sudding it up with the charcoal scented body wash sat by the faucet. You’d suggested that soap for Daryl after he made a remark of ‘not wanting to smell like petunias’, he seemed to enjoy it.

Raising your rag covered hand, you brought it up to his chest, taking your time cleaning any nook and cranny you managed to find. He had been building a bike from scratch, and as you were starting to learn, motor oil was not a quick and easy wash.

Daryl hummed at your touch, his own, newly cleaned hands, coming up to massage shampoo into your tangled hair.

The hair washing, would always be your favorite.

Drying off after the shower was always the same ordeal. You would put on fresh pajamas, and Daryl would put on his same shirt from the day before with a fresh pair of boxers. You’d given him grief over washing his clothes— but he wasn’t budging in that regard just yet. You decided it wasn’t worth the hassle as long as his skin was clean going into them.

And then finally, you both plopped into the freshly made bed. The silk sheets always gave you chills, their cool caress sending shockwaves up your spine. He seemed to feel the same.

Tonight should’ve been like any other night.

Tonight was like any other night.

Apart from the feeling of scruff against your freshly washed face, and chapped lips brushing against yours.

You decided then and there, you were definitely in love.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixion x reader #daryl imagines #daryl x y/n #the walking dead daryl #twd daryl #twd #I never know how to properly write people speaking #please help

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