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#to just grab me and I'll do it because what are they gonna do. fire me?

ddejavvu · 2 days

Note

hi mei, i was curious if you could write about reader hiding like their childhood stuffed animal or comfort item like a baby blanket from maybe hotch or peter parker the first time they come over cuz they r embarrassed

this is not age regression shit, just to justify LOL

this works with any peter (hopefully) - the first time my bf came into my room i hurled my decrepit old childhood teddy bear into a corner and when he left i grabbed him like i'm so sorry man i couldn't let him know about you and me.

It's a testament to Peter's natural curiosity that you've been sprawled out over your bed for twenty minutes and he hasn't taken the bait and kissed you yet. Instead he's walking around your room inspecting every nook and cranny, peering into picture frames and opening drawers to paw through their contents.

"Peter!" You laugh, watching him duck beneath your desk, "The only things under there are cords; what are you doing?"

"I'm just looking around!" He insists, "My aunt always tells me you can find a lot out about a person by the space they keep."

"Oh? What are you finding out about me?"

"You have terrible cable management," His nose wrinkles as he ducks out from beneath your desk, "But that's better than what May says about me. She says my room tells her that I'm a pig person with no standards for cleanliness."

"Ouch," You snicker, "May doesn't hold back, does she?"

"Never," Peter grins, and does a final lap around your room before finally succumbing to the call of your mattress. He flattens himself out beside you and sighs, "Your room is boring."

"Hey!" You jab him in the ribs, "What do you mean?"

"I mean it's so clean!" He groans, rubbing his side, "There's no- there's no personality here, there's no trash on the desk, there's no clothes on the ground, there's no comfort blanket on the bed."

"I don't have a comfort blanket," Your cheeks rouge, and Peter zeroes in on it with an eagle's eye.

"Yes you do," He accuses, leaning up on one hand to tower over you, "Where is it? Show me!"

"It's not a blanket!" You insist, but you've implicated yourself, "It's- it's a teddy bear, okay? And I put him away because he's... fragile."

"Mhm. Fragile." Peter nods, "I'll be careful. Show me."

"He's kind of hard to get to."

"Show me."

"He's- uh, he's falling apart, too, not pretty to look at."

"Show me."

"He needs to be washed."

"Show me."

"No!"

"Come on!" Peter groans, "I'm not gonna make fun of you! I've got a stuffed animal too."

Your glare is perhaps made less effective by the way that your cheeks are on fire. Peter isn't deterred in the slightest, and the second you grumble, 'He's under the bed,' Peter's swinging himself over the side and jamming a hand beneath it.

"Got him," Peter laughs, peering at the plushie that he's dragged from beneath the bed, "This is your special one?"

"Mhm," You nod, watching warily as Peter surveys him, "Like I said, he's- he's kind of worn out and he needs to be washed, and-"

"He's great." Peter smiles, tucking the bear to his chest as he gazes fondly up at you, disarming the nerves bundled tightly in your chest, "You can meet mine the next time you come to my place."

144 notes · View notes

bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky · 9 months

Text

The Rain is Always Gonna Come if You're Standing With Me | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Hi, friends. This one took me approximately 100 years to finish because school is eating me alive. This one is based on Peace from folklore, which is an underrated song, in my opinion.

Word count: 12.3k

Warnings: Bucky's negative self image, harassment, slight reader injury, people being assholes

"But I'm a fire, and I'll keep your brittle heart warm If your cascade ocean wave blues come All these people think love's for show But I would die for you in secret The devil's in the details, but you got a friend in me Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?"

“Oh, you don’t have to do that, doll-” Bucky said as you swiped the dirty dishes from the table. He made a grab for them, but his enhanced speed was no match for you. You expertly evaded his capture, slipping away from his grasp with almost no effort. You knew him too well, knew his movement patterns and habits. Anticipating his every move was easy. With a cocky laugh, you turned on your heel and headed for the sink.

“Sweetheart, really,” he called after you, “I’ll clean up.”

“But you made breakfast.” You set the two bowls that once held yogurt, fruit, and granola in the sink and turned on the water. “It’s only fair that I do the dishes.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and gave a laugh, “that wasn’t breakfast, baby. It was just a… a morning snack.” In only a few long strides, he met you at the sink. His large hands snatched yours and pulled them to his broad chest, halting your efforts to clean.

You cocked your head to the side, “A morning snack, huh?”

“Yeah. I mean, I know we’re going out for breakfast, but I didn’t want you to be hungry.” He added a fraction of extra pressure to your hands, pulling them closer against his body. “I gotta take care of my girl.”

“Well, that’s very thoughtful of you,” you placed a quick peck to his lips. “And because you are so thoughtful and sweet, let me do the dishes.” With a playful tug, you tried to free your hands from his grasp. But Bucky held firm.

He shook his head, “Nope. Not gonna happen.” Suddenly, he released your hands, spun you around, and landed a light slap to your ass; it happened so fast it left you giggling. “You go get dressed, I’ll take care of it.”

Your giggly “sir, yes, sir” floated down the hall as you marched toward the bedroom. This was to be the perfect day. A trip to your favorite bookstore, followed by what you swore was the best chicken and waffles the city had to offer. After breakfast, the two of you were set to visit the new shark exhibit at the science museum, eat lunch in the park, and grab an ice cream from your favorite spot.

Bucky planned it all out, ensuring a flawless blueprint. And while you appreciated his attention to detail, you would’ve been happy with a day at home. All you wanted- all you needed- was to spend time with him.

And time with Bucky was lacking as of late.

He stood at the sink, drying the now clean dishes as emotion overcame him. He couldn’t believe he was here- home- with you. He waited for this day. He hungered and ached for a day without danger, without bloodshed. He waited for a day spent with you. And only you.

He’d just been so busy lately- too busy. Over the past few months, he’d been dragged around the world more times than he could count. His missions only seemed to grow longer. And each time he got the call from Hill, she sent him farther and farther away.

He found himself struggling under the weight of severe, mind-numbing exhaustion. Anxiety. His body threatened to give out with each new wound he received, each drop of blood he lost. But he didn’t mind the constant paint or fatigue. What upset him most was spending so much time away from you.

The two of you lived together now. You shared an address, a roof, a bedroom. The universe somehow allowed Bucky to have a home- a safe, comfortable home- with the person he loved most. But he’d spent so little time there lately that he feared it wasn’t his anymore. That he had no claim to the space. He always felt like a mere passerby upon arriving home, like more of a wanderer than a resident. He always had to stop himself from knocking, had to force himself to use his key.

But who was he to waltz through the front door after being gone for so long? Who was he to act like he owned the place? He thought maybe he didn’t deserve it, this home you shared. And he knew he didn’t deserve you.

Over the past few months, he spent only a handful of nights at home while you held down the fort. You kept things together. He missed out on so much of your life; what if you didn’t want him to be a part of it anymore?

When Bucky did come home, he always showed up in the middle of the night. Sore. Exhausted. He’d drag his body into the bed you shared and pass out before he even got the chance to pull you close. He’d sleep late, his body too fatigued to wake before the afternoon. When he finally stirred, the two of you did your best to catch up. He wanted to hear every detail of your life, and you his. But without fail, the emotion won. You’d cry together, wrapped in the other’s arms, whispering “I love yous” over and over.

And without fail, some world ending threat would interrupt. Danger always found a way to force the two of you apart, isolating you from one another. And only twenty-four hours after arriving home, Bucky would leave. Again.

But over the last few weeks, things started quieting down. It was slow at first. Subtle. But Bucky sensed a shift in the air. He could almost feel the world settling. At first, he thought he’d lost his mind. But Sam, too, felt the earth calming. As did Hill. Whatever sweeping, overwhelming chaos that sent the entire planet into disaster so many months ago seemed to finally lose steam. Fewer calls came in, fewer alerts woke Bucky in the middle of the night.

And three nights ago, Bucky came home for good.

The adrenaline that kept him going for so long evaporated as soon as he made it through the front door. The anxiety melted from his body. It was the only thing, he realized, that kept him upright. And with it gone, his body gave out. He crumbled and collapsed to the floor as sweet relief flooded his every cell. He didn’t care that he was hurt, that he was worn out; he was just happy to be home.

But a sharp shriek flooded his system with fear once again.

You stood frozen in the doorway of your bedroom, just a few feet away, with your hands clasped over your mouth. Tears welled in your eyes. Your chest rose and fell as sharp breaths dragged into your lungs. The sight of his limp body sent you jumping to the worst, most tragic conclusions.

“No, I’m- I’m okay, baby.” With great effort, Bucky pulled himself to his feet.

It was then that you snapped out of your horrified trance. You rushed to Bucky’s side, throwing your arms around his neck, and pressing your body to his. You needed to be as close to him as possible, needed your souls to touch. His arms wound around you and pulled you closer still, desperate for you.

“You’re okay…” you whispered against his neck. It wasn’t a question, but an affirmation.

“I’m okay,” he said. “I’m home.”

That night, after he took a shower and let you clean his wounds, he planned this perfect day. And though you told him it wasn’t necessary, he wanted to make things up to you. He wanted to apologize for being gone so long. For breaking your heart over and over and over again. For disappearing.

He knew how his absences affected you. Knew you worried about him constantly when he was gone. He noticed the way you bit your nails down to the quick. How you picked at your cuticles till they bled. Your tired eyes looked bloodshot, and your bottom lip chewed raw. He knew your anxiety gave you stomach pain and headaches. Knew that you could barely eat or sleep when he was away.

His constant disappearing act put you through hell. And he hated himself for it. All he wanted- all he ever wanted- was to make you happy. To bring you calm and ease and tranquility. And now that he was home, he swore to himself that he’d give you peace.

Bucky finished with the dishes and headed into the bedroom, hoping to soak up as much time with you as possible. But just as he made his way into the en suite bathroom, your grumbled, aggravated voice caught his attention.

“Oh, what the fuck?” You let out a deep huff, staring down at your phone with a sharp seriousness.

Bucky popped his head into the bathroom, “Everything okay?”

A look of surprise splashed across your face; you hadn’t heard him come in. “Oh- hey. Yeah. Everything is-” you gestured to your phone, “everything’s fine. My friend just sent me a stupid gossip article.”

“Anything good?” Bucky shot you a wink, knowing damn well he was clueless about the latest reality tv drama.

“No.” The word carried a hefty weight and fell to the ground with finality.

Bucky clocked your tone, your expression- both struck him as too serious for a gossip rag. His muscles stiffened ever so slightly at sight of your displeasure.

“Just dumb shit. People writing whole articles over things they have no idea about.” You rolled your eyes and slipped your phone into your pocket. A deep breath acted as a reset to your system, clearing the fog of frustration from your mind. “And it doesn’t even matter, cause we have a perfect day planned.”

Bucky, too, took a deep breath. He relaxed into a smile and leaned against the door jam. “We sure do, doll.”

He was too accustomed to disaster. Always prepared for the worst. The slightest change in your demeanor sent him hurdling toward the worst possible conclusion. His body was home, but his mind remained stuck in a never-ending battle.

“I’m just gonna put my shoes on- I’ll be ready when you are.” Bucky stepped away and did his best to shake it off. ‘Everything’s fine, it’s all good’, he said to himself as he laced up his boots. ‘It was just an article about Vanderpump Rules or whatever.’ His palms dragged up and down his thighs, his chest rose and fell rhythmically. He learned how to self-regulate, to talk himself down, long ago- before he ever met you. It was his only option back then.

The sound of your footsteps bounding down the hall commanded Bucky’s attention. He snapped out his dimly lit world and stepped into your technicolor atmosphere. A comforting sigh of relief spread though his body as he noticed the bright smile on your face. Any evidence of the upset your gossip rag caused was long gone, replaced by an all-encompassing warmth.

“Alright, Barnes,” you grabbed your purse from the hook by the door and slung it over your shoulder, “let’s do this.”

The warm summer air greeted the two of you as stepped out of your apartment building. The busy city pulsed with the possibilities of a perfect Saturday. People passed by with dogs in tow. Cars honked. Birds sang. And finally, things felt right. Everything fell off its axis when Bucky was gone. The world turned in the wrong direction, the sun set on the opposite side. And only his return could set things properly in motion.

“Okay, to the bookstore,” Bucky weaved his fingers with yours and gave you a gentle tug in the right direction, “here we go!”

Bucky never had an affinity for going out in public. He didn’t particularly enjoy the crowded sidewalks or busy subways. Throngs of strangers surrounding him from every angle only ever served to put him on edge. But he’d improved. He’d worked through his anxiety and his fears- all to be with you. It seemed, though, that his paranoia threatened to creep in again. After so much time away, surrounded by danger, he found himself scanning every face on the street, assessing possible threats.

He always experienced some level of recognition in public, sure, but today felt different. Every pair of eyes seemed to bore through him, every mouth whispered his name. His muscles tensed, his jaw locked.

“You okay?” you pulled Bucky to the side, out of the flow of people, “you seem a little on edge.”

“Oh-” Bucky snaked his hand out of yours, realizing all at once the force of his grip. He watched you rub at the sore spots he created and silently cursed himself. “No, I’m good, I’m okay. I think I’m just-” He eyed the area once more, “I think I’m just being paranoid. Is it me or is everyone staring at me?”

Your heart stopped. “Um, no, I don’t think everyone’s staring,” A casual shrug and a shake of your head punctuated your thought. “I think you’ve got some residual adrenaline or something, you know?”

Bucky nodded. “Must be it. I’m sorry about your hand, baby.” He pressed his lips to the indentations his fingers left behind.

“I’ll survive,” you threw him a wink, “but the kisses help.”

The two of you continued your journey with Bucky’s worries only slightly assuaged. It seemed to him that hundreds of eyes raked over him with each passing second, but he forced his anxiety behind a wall. He wasn’t going to mess up this day with you- he couldn’t. He didn’t know how many chances he had left, and if this was the last one, he couldn’t afford to ruin it.

Block after block passed as you and Bucky got closer to the bookstore. Sure, there was a similar shop only a few minutes from the apartment- but it wasn’t as cute or as special as the one in the village. And Bucky wanted this day perfect. He’d do anything to make you happy. And so, he sucked it up and vowed to make the trek with you, no matter how nervous the public made him.

But with only a few blocks to go, you pulled him to the side once again.

“Hang on, shoe’s untied,” you attempted to bend down and tie your loose lace, but Bucky refused to let you. He, instead, knelt on the sidewalk and gave your shoe a proper double-knot.

He stared up at you with adoration in his eyes and a warm smile on his face, “this is almost like a Cinderella moment,” he joked. “Except I-”

Something caught his eye.

And before you had the chance to intervene, he was gone. He forced his way past cyclists and families with children, his body seemingly drawn in by a magnet toward whatever grabbed his attention. He stood with his back to you, examining a newspaper box.

“Come on, Buck, no one reads the paper anymore,” you laughed, attempting to sway his focus. But he didn’t move.

His gaze remained on the grainy photo of the two of you holding hands outside your building. For the second time that day, you scanned the headline: ‘SERIAL KILLER’S PR RELATIONSHIP: The Winter Soldier’s Attempt to Win Over the American Public’.

“What- what is this?” Bucky looked to you for help, for context. “Why did someone wrote about us?”

A haunting sense of hopelessness filled his eyes, leaving you gutted. And though he wanted to look away, he couldn’t seem to pull his eyes from the page. Each second spent examining the harsh headline caused him more pain, more anguish.

He truly couldn’t believe what he saw. And he couldn’t believe he’d dragged you into the crossfire.

“Hey, don’t pay it any mind, okay?” You fought to meet his eyeline, “It’s just stupid gossip-”

A realization flashed across his face, “is this what you were reading this morning?”

A slow nod confirmed his fears. “I wasn’t trying to hide it from you, I just-”

Bucky snatched a paper from the box and began reading at lightning speed. With each sentence, the dread filling his chest grew heavier. “Hydra’s deadliest weapon has a new victim,” Bucky read aloud. “though she hasn’t been bloodied or brutalized…yet. We’ll see just how long Barnes’s new PR ‘girlfriend’ survives.”

The words cut him deep. They wormed their way into his brain and unearthed the fears he’d long tried to put to rest. He knew he was wrong to be with you. He was wrong to indulge in his feelings for you. Dating you meant putting you in danger, and he’d known that all along. But you were never scared of him- and if you were, you didn’t show it. This article, however, cemented his belief: your relationship was a ticking time bomb; being Bucky’s girlfriend meant signing your I love you’s in blood.

“Wait-” he dragged his eyes upward and met your anxious stare. “What does this mean- what’s a ‘PR relationship’?”

You rolled your eyes at the phrase, just like you had earlier that morning, “’public relations relationship’. It’s a fake relationship that’s been arranged by a PR firm. People usually do it to get publicity or fix their public image after a scandal.”

Bucky knew there was more to your answer, and he had enough questions to last till dinner. But the article was long- too long. He knew it had to be full to the brim with the most brutal, vile rhetoric possible. Reading it would hurt, yes. But he needed to know exactly what the article said about him, about you.

He buried his face in the paper once more, only surfacing to share a line or two with you. “They think you’re being paid to date me? That we’ve been doing something called-” he double checked the article, “‘pap walks’? What’s a pap walk?”

Even in times of crisis, Bucky’s lack of modern knowledge still managed to pull a smile from you. “It’s where you call the paparazzi so they can take pictures of you, but you pretend it was spontaneous.”

Bucky looked stunned, “Why would anyone do that?”

You shrugged, “you’d be surprised.”

People took pictures of Bucky without his permission constantly- it happened all the time. They snapped photos at the grocery store and on the subway. And no matter how subtle they tried to be, Bucky always clocked it. He could almost feel the lenses on him. But he didn’t notice the person taking this picture on the front page. Maybe if he had, he could’ve stopped it. Maybe he could’ve saved you from being exposed like this.

He shook his head and disappeared once again into the disgusting story written about the two of you. He didn’t care much what they said about him. People hated him- that wasn’t knew information. And though he didn’t love being one of the most reviled men in history, he’d come to terms with it. But now that someone dragged you into the fray, the fire within him reignited.

“His new ‘girlfriend’ functions as a means of improving the public’s opinion of Barnes and humanizing the ex-Winter Soldier. It’s a PR strategy we’ve seen a million times- one that could possibly salvage Barnes’s reputation,” Bucky read aloud. He eyed the people who passed, waiting until they crossed the street to continue.

“But what if she herself is no angel?” He rolled his eyes at the thought. “Surely, no one in their right mind would risk their life to date a proven serial killer. So, it’s entirely possible that she herself may not be in her right mind. Maybe she, too, is a criminal. Acting as Barnes’s new love interest could possibly knock time off her sentence or hours off her court mandated community service.”

Bucky stared at you, aghast. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I- I can’t believe they’d say that about you…”

“Buck, it’s okay,” you shrugged. “We both know I’m actually in love with you for real. I don’t have a prison sentence to shorten or community service hours to perform. And the last time I checked, no one is paying me to date you.” You cut a glance to the newspaper box, full of papers with front page coverage about you and Bucky, “I’m not worried about their bullshit.”

Bucky’s grip on the paper tightened, crinkling the edges. “But why’d they have to drag you into it? You haven’t done anything wrong-”

“Neither have you,” your tone was insistent, steadfast.

“We both know that’s not true…” Bucky loved your support, your assertions that he was an innocent man. But he never believed them. He knew he had blood on his hands even if you couldn’t- or refused to- see it.

“We both know you had no choice,” your rebuttal didn’t waver. “But, speaking of things that aren’t true,” you gestured toward the paper, “they also dropped Sam’s name.”

Bucky scanned through the article until he found the paragraph in question. “Why put in the effort to clean the blood from Barnes’s tarnished reputation? Two words: Sam Wilson,” Bucky paused his reading and stared up at you with wide eyes. All you could do was nod.

“Barnes and Wilson have been seen together on many occasions and have even been photographed on Wilson’s family boat in Louisiana. But Barnes’s association with Sam Wilson, AKA the New Captain America, only hurts the Captain America brand. Even if the two did take down the Flag Smashers as a team, Barnes is a bloodstain on the brilliant red, white, and blue of Wilson’s Cap.”

Hearing the words aloud twisted the knife. Sure, skimming the article hurt, but listening to Bucky read every last disgusting word hurt you in ways you never imagined. He deserved better. He deserved a world that loved him. A world that welcomed him home and celebrated his life. He deserved a fucking medal of honor for simply surviving what Hydra put him through. But he didn’t get medals or high praise; he, instead, got spit on by people on the subway.

“But if this new woman improves Barnes’s image in the public eye, his destruction of Wilson’s mantle may be mitigated.”

Bucky balled up the paper and crushed it into the nearest garbage can. His hands shook with anger, with anxiety.

“I hadn’t even- I didn’t even think of that…” he leaned against the newspaper box, dejected. “I didn’t realize I was ruining Sam's reputation just by being friends with him.” Despair darkened his expression. He knew getting close to people was selfish- he just never realized how selfish. And in one fell swoop, he ruined the lives of the two people he cared about most.

“You’re not- you’re not ruining anything,” you took Bucky’s face in your hands, cradling his cheeks. “These kinds of stories are all made up, baby. There’s no sources or actual information for them to work from, so they just write whatever will get them the most attention.”

Bucky’s gaze fell downward. “I don’t know, doll…”

“But I do. I know.” Your words came out desperate, pleading. Something inside of you shook with a frantic need to mend Bucky’s broken heart. You’d never seen him this despondent, this torn apart. “And I’m not gonna let you doubt yourself because of some low budget, piece of shit gossip article.” Regardless of the emotion holding you hostage, your voice didn’t waver. You stood firm in your conviction, determined to help Bucky find his way out of the spiral. “I love you. I love being with you. I missed you so much- I hate when you’re gone. And Sam- Sam loves you, too. I mean, not as much as me…” you shot him a wink. “But he is your best friend. He cares about you. And I can guarantee that he’s never- even for a second- thought that you were ruining his reputation.”

Bucky gave a shake of his head.

“Hey, you know Sam doesn’t care about that kind of stuff- he doesn’t give a shit what people think.” Sam knew Bucky as the ruthless assassin, the broken fugitive, and the rehabilitated man seeking amends. He’d seen the darkest, most twisted version of Bucky created by Hydra- even fought against him. But he didn’t see Bucky as a villain anymore. He saw only his friend, the tortured soul who tried his best every day.

Bucky lifted your hands from his face and held them to his chest instead. He gave a deep, heavy sigh that vibrated under your palms. He didn’t know what to do, what to say. Part of him wished to go back into cryo and escape the stares of the world.

You could see him crumbling, collapsing in on himself like a dying star. He was drowning in his own mind, and you offered him a life preserver. “Hey, I know it must feel fucking awful to see a story like this about yourself. And I know you hate that Sam and I are involved. But it’s not your fault.” You gripped his t-shirt in your fists, desperate to get your point across. “This whole thing is so predatory and evil- it’s killing me to see you hurting like this. But I swear to you that this does not matter to the rest of the world. they won’t even notice.” Bucky’s stare sliced through you. Something in his eyes appeared hopeful- but only for a moment. The brightness died suddenly, replaced by despair.

“Seriously, Buck, people these days don’t even have the attention span to read an article this long.” Bucky didn’t laugh at your attempted levity. You dropped your joking tone and grew serious. “I don’t want you to think that this changes anything- it doesn’t. This will not have any ramifications. It will all blow over. The news cycle moves so fast now- by tomorrow, this same shitty paper will publish something that’s, like, ‘Elton John is secretly an alien.’”

Bucky didn’t answer. He simply rested his shoulders against the cool, brick wall and let his head fall back. He wondered if the fear people held for him would ever subside, if he’d ever be seen as anything other than a monster. His legacy was soaked in blood. It hung over his head every day, dripping crimson onto his skin. No shower could undo the stains- no matter how hard he scrubbed, he’d always be the stuff of nightmares.

“Okay, hey, how about this,” you reeled Bucky back in, saving him from the dark recesses of his mind. “Let’s just go home, alright? We can hole up and hide out. Watch movies, order takeout. We’ll just stay out of the public eye until this bullshit blows over.”

The offer enticed him. Escaping the stares of strangers, their horrified expressions- it sounded idyllic. The thought of just the two of you snuggled together on the couch, marathoning all of What We Do in the Shadows with Chinese takeout in hand was tempting. Bucky could feel the ‘yes’ forming on his lips. But at the last second, he refused with a shake of his head.

Bucky made a promise to you. After being an absentee boyfriend for months, he planned out the perfect day and swore on his life to deliver. He couldn’t break any more promises- not after he was gone for so long. And he had so much to make up for. So many date nights and lazy weekends fell by the wayside while he was away. He racked up a stack of debt in your relationship, and if he didn’t start paying it off soon, he feared you’d cancel his account.

But he knew you- knew you didn’t care about these things. You didn’t consider him accountable for the time he missed or hold a grudge against him. You were gracious- too gracious- of him. And if he rattled off his reasons for refusing your offer, he knew you’d sweep them aside. He knew you’d lead him home without hesitation and stay cooped up inside until the world eased up on him. And you’d miss out on your perfect day.

Bucky wasn’t going to let that happen.

“I think it’s actually better if…” he eyed the people passing, certain they were shooting the two of you dirty looks. “I think it’s better if I just go about my day. If we go home and hide, I’ll obsess, you know? I’ll get trapped in my own head.” He quickly tacked on an addendum, “but if you’re not okay being out in public right now, I understand. They involved you in this mess, too.”

You shrugged, “it doesn’t bother me. I know our relationship is real. That’s all that matters.”

And for a split second, Bucky’s worries disappeared. You were so sure of your love for him. So unbothered by what everyone else had to say. You didn’t let the opinions of others get to you; you loved Bucky, end of story. You adapted to every hurdle and challenge brought on by dating the ex- Winter Soldier. And you did so with a smile.

“Okay, good. Then I guess our next stop is the bookstore,” he said with a small smile. You tried to turn and head in that direction, but Bucky caught your hand, stopping you. “And hey- if anyone on the way there gives you trouble, you just say the word, okay?”

But no one gave you any trouble. The walk to the bookstore was quiet. Unremarkable. No one hollered close-minded comments at Bucky. No one gave either of you venomous glares. The calm shocked Bucky. He’d been so sure that this day would fall apart. That everyone who read that article would converge on the two of you all at once, harassing and degrading you until you retreated home. But no one said a word. The two of you simply strolled hand in hand, soaking in the warm summer sun. And Bucky’s hope for a perfect day renewed.

“I thought it would be in this section…” Bucky scanned the ‘fantasy’ section of the bookstore, searching for a specific novel. He took the high shelves, and you took the low, meeting in the middle after a fruitless search.

“Yeah, I didn’t see it, babe,” you rose from your squatted position, two mystery novels under your arm. “Maybe you should ask an employee? I can stay here and keep looking, just in case we missed it.”

“Yeah…” Bucky gave the area another cursory glance, to no avail. “That’s a good idea. I’ll be right back.” He dotted a kiss to your forehead and set off in search of a clerk, leaving you behind to double check the shelves.

The hundreds of books lined up in perfect rows put you at ease. This shop was the coziest place in the city, a peaceful paradise free from the noise. And spending a Saturday morning with Bucky, wandering amongst the many titles, felt like home. Your fingertips brushed over a few of the spines, tracing the ornate lettering in search of Bucky’s book.

“Excuse me?” An unfamiliar voice brought you back to reality, halting your hunt.

“Oh, sorry,” you took a few steps out of the stranger’s way and continued your search, only for her to interrupt once again.

“No, I want to talk to you!” her intense energy was out of place in the small, quiet bookshop. The eagerness in her voice rubbed you the wrong way. “Is it true?”

You stared at her, a blank expression on your face. “Is what true?”

“The whole PR relationship thing!” She pulled out her phone and shoved the article in your face, “I read about you two this morning.”

Your hands tightened into fists. Your jaw tensed. And though you wanted to wring this woman’s neck, you kept your cool; Bucky wouldn’t want you to get into a fight on his behalf. With a deep breath, you quelled the rage building inside you. You set down your books and relaxed your shoulders, forcing your breathing to steady.

This stranger had no right to ask invasive questions about your relationship, and no right to ruin your favorite bookstore. “Our relationship is none of your business,” you said, and turned back toward the bookshelves. This stranger didn’t deserve your eye contact, your attention, or your mental space. “Please, leave me alone.”

“Oh, duh! I bet they made you sign an NDA, didn’t they? I get it,” she threw an all too friendly chuckle in your direction. “Can you at least tell me what they’re paying you?”

With that, you brushed past her and attempted an escape. All you wanted was to find Bucky and put this whole interaction behind you. But she followed, phone in hand, recording the whole thing.

“Are you a criminal, too? Are you getting time off your sentence or something?” she called after you.

You let it go.

“How’d they get you to agree to this arrangement?”

You ignored her.

“Aren’t you scared? I could never do what you’re doing,” she said. “No amount of money could ever get me to be near that man- he’s a serial killer. He’s a monster!”

Something inside you snapped. You whipped around, rage burning behind your eyes. She crossed the line. She didn’t know anything about Bucky, only what the papers and tabloids said about him. And she

deserved to pay the price for speaking about him so harshly. But just as you opened your mouth to tear her to shreds, a large hand rested on your shoulder.

“Hey, doll,” Bucky stared down at you, “What’s-”

Your harasser’s eyes widened. “Oh my god,” pure terror rendered her white as a sheet. “It- it’s him…” Clumsy steps carried her backward as her phone slipped from her hand. She scrambled for it, desperate to run in the opposite direction. Breathless, horrified sounds fell from her lips. Her hands shook. You watched with a smile as she snatched her phone from the floor and tripped over herself as she high tailed it for the door.

Bucky eyed the woman as she knocked over displays and ran into other customers. “What was that about?”

You gave a shake of your head, “nothing. She was just hounding me about the article.”

Bucky’s shoulders slumped forward ever so slightly. Hit brow grew furrowed. “Oh, baby…” he sighed, “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry? You didn’t follow me around and ask me invasive questions.” You stretched up on your toes, planting a kiss to his cheek. “It’s not a big deal. I just hope I don’t end up on her Tik Tok.”

Bucky’s mouth fell open, “she was filming you?”

You nodded. Bucky’s face fell.

A rushed “Don’t worry about it, though” pushed its way past your lips. It had an over-the-top cheery tone and a thick affectation of reassurance. You could practically hear Bucky’s heart splintering and shattering with each passing second, and you had to stop it. “I’m sure she’s gonna watch it back later and delete it when she hears her own panicked panting,” you shot him a wink.

And you waited. Waited for the gears in Bucky’s mind to turn. To grind. The devil and angel on his shoulders fought one another, bare knuckled, to convince him of their arguments. The devil told him to spiral, to jump headfirst into a dark sea. He told Bucky this was all his fault, that you’d been harassed, followed, and filmed all because of him. The angel, however, urged him to listen to you. To take a deep breath. To hold your hand. To understand that the article wasn’t his fault- none of this was his fault.

And after a long moment, he slipped his hand into yours. The gesture was a bit reluctant, sure, but you didn’t care. He’d resisted the urge to plummet into guilt and shame. And that’s all that mattered.

You let loose a deep sigh as relief spread through your every cell. “Let’s get outta here, okay? We can head back home and-”

“What about breakfast?”

You eyed Bucky for a moment. “You still wanna go?”

“Yeah, absolutely,” he gave you a small smile. “I know how excited you were about it.”

Of course, all he cared about was you. Your happiness. Your enjoyment. Your love for this diner’s chicken and waffles.

“We can just go another time,” you assured him. “It’s no big deal.”

Bucky sensed the disappointment, no matter how slight in your voice. He couldn’t ruin this day for you. He couldn’t let you down again.

But he thought about the walk to the diner, the hordes of people you’d encounter on the way. And just like that, he felt his manufactured mask of optimism slip.

A sudden rush of what if’s pummeled his psyche. He imagined more harassers filming you, more unhinged strangers following you. He heard them yelling the most despicable things in your direction, hurling insult after insult your way. The voices grew into a loud, almost violent cacophony that rattled inside Bucky’s skull.

He couldn’t let you be exposed to the cruel world like this. He couldn’t take you to breakfast when an angry mob threatened you at every turn. You didn’t deserve to be yelled at, to be disrespected. And what if they turned violent? What if someone followed the two of you home? He couldn’t risk your safety like that.

But he still had to make up for all his time away. All the lonely nights you spent awake, wondering if he was still alive. All the weekends you spent alone, missing him until it hurt. And he’d made a promise- to himself and to you- that he’d rectify the pain his absence caused.

Plus, he had to be over-reacting, right? Assuming the worst out of people he didn’t even know- it wasn’t fair. Sure, a stranger followed you around and gave you a hard time. But she didn’t hurt you. She didn’t even try to get violent. It was all in Bucky’s head- he was sure of it. He made a conscious effort to release his shoulders from their tension-locked position and forced a deep breath into his chest.

“No, doll, really. It’s okay,” he gave your hand a squeeze. “I can tolerate a few dirty looks.”

The second the two of you stepped out of the bookstore and onto the busy sidewalk, you clocked the way hung his head. The way he hid from the eyes of the city. He tried to shrink himself, to protect himself. The confidence, the self-esteem he’d worked so hard to build came crumbling down in an instant. This wasn’t your Bucky, but the Bucky of years before. The Bucky who hated every fiber of his being. The Bucky who took every harsh word spoken about him as gospel. The Bucky who punished his innocent body to make up for his tortured mind.

The reemergence of this Bucky twisted the knife with which the article stabbed you and rubbed salt in the wound.

The walk to the diner brought out your chatty side. Filling the air with lighthearted anecdotes and silly jokes seemed to you like the only way to keep Bucky afloat. If you could distract him from the pain, from the potentially hateful onlookers, maybe this day could be salvaged. But, much to your surprise, not one person harassed the two of you. No one asked questions or followed you around. Not a single errant camera flash dotted the street. Hope rose in Bucky’s chest. Maybe this perfect day could still go as planned. Maybe he could still keep his promise.

When you arrived at the diner without issue, Bucky found himself almost laughing at his own dramatics. He knew he worried too much, that he always considered the worst possible outcomes. He saw the world through a dark and stormy filter, always casting shadows over reality. But to his delight, he’d been wrong this time.

The bell atop the diner door gave a delicate jingle as the two of you made your way inside. The place had an old-timey feel that brought Bucky a sense of comfort, a sense of home. Large families sat packed like sardines in every booth. Tray after tray of French toast and eggs benedict passed by. The smell of bacon and golden-brown pancakes instantly pulled his lips into a smile. It seemed to Bucky that this joint was the real deal. He couldn’t wait to try the chicken and waffles you raved about. Couldn’t wait for a syrup-sweetened kiss.

“For two?” the hostess asked when you made your way to the front of the line. You gave her a nod.

She eyed the section to her left, appraising the area for an opening as a busboy waved in her direction. “Okay, this way,” she grabbed two menus from the host stand and gestured for you to follow.

But just as you attempted to trail her through the sea of tables, a booming voice caught your attention.

“Hey!”

The restaurant quieted. Heads turned in the direction of the outcry.

A large, gray-haired man with a soiled apron stepped into the hostess’s path, blocking her way. A deep crease formed between his furrowed brows. Sweat dotted his bright pink cheeks. This was the face of a man who stood over a hot grill for twenty-five years. He was familiar, but only vaguely so. You could’ve sworn you’d heard that voice before- though with a kinder intonation. And then it hit you.

During your last visit to the diner, he stopped by your table to ask how you liked the food. He was so kind, so even tempered. He thanked you for choosing to spend your Sunday morning at what used to be his father’s restaurant. He was so proud of the old place. So compassionate for its time-worn booths and outdated wallpaper. He told you how he worked in the kitchen for so long that now, even as the new owner and manager, he couldn’t stay away from the griddles.

But the kind-hearted man you met last time was long gone.

“Not in my restaurant!” He ripped the menus from the hostess and dismissed her with a sharp wave of his hand. He glared at Bucky, his eyes brimming with hate. “We don’t serve murderers here!”

The lighthearted chatter died out altogether. Forks stopped clinking against plates. Children halted their laughter. Hundreds of eyes locked on Bucky as his cheeks burst into a red flush.

“Get out before I call the police!” The man took a step toward the two of you, “You’re not welcome here, you psycho.”

“You can’t talk to him like that!” you barked back. “He isn’t-”

“Baby, don’t,” Bucky cupped a hand around your upper arm and tried to gently pull you toward the door. “Let’s just go.”

“No,” you cut your gaze back to the manage, “not until he apologizes.”

Bucky gave your arm another tug, “please.”

The desperation in his voice nearly made you crack. His eyes swept across the room and back again, taking in each and every horrified stare. With each taunt the manager threw his way, the weight of the public eye grew heavier. More suffocating. Their stares pushed Bucky’s shoulders forward and his head down. He was crumbling.

Not one person stood up for Bucky. No one- aside from you- called the manager out. No patron even gave a disapproving shake of their head. It sickened you.

With a small nod, you obliged Bucky’s request, and let him lead you out of the restaurant. The stares followed him the entire way.

Bucky wanted to disintegrate. He wished to, once again, turn to dust and evaporate into the breeze. If he ran, he could put a few miles between himself and this godforsaken diner in minutes. But he found his feet rooted into the ground. He was frozen. Trapped. Running wasn’t an option.

He leaned against the cool glass window of the diner and let himself process. He heard you talking a mile a minute, reassuring him until you ran out of breath. But he couldn’t pick out more than a few words. It wasn’t until a defeated apology fell from your lips that he snapped out of his trance.

“Wait- you’re sorry?”

You nodded. “I’m so sorry, Buck. You didn’t deserve that.”

“Baby, you don’t have anything to be sorry for.” His gaze fell into a strange middle distance, landing on everything and nothing all at once. “I should apologize. That article… it ruined everything. I feel like I-” His eyes met yours, “your life is never gonna be the same after this.”

You gave him a shrug, “who says I want it to be?”

His eyes met yours as an exasperated laugh left his chest, “You’re kidding, right? This is going to affect everything for you: jobs, housing, friendships. When people look you up online, all they’re gonna see is that article. They’re gonna see me.”

“Good. I want them to see you,” you said with a wink. “If I’m gonna date the hottest guy in the universe, I want everyone to know about it.” Bucky didn’t laugh. “Babe, I’m not worried about that kind of stuff right now. I’m worried about you.”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he let his gaze fall to the sidewalk below. “I’ve been through worse.”

The worn-out, beaten down quality of his voice was enough to make you weep. Bucky didn’t deserve more pain. He didn’t deserve to be treated like a monster. But society cast him out and labelled him a vicious predator. They abandoned him, left him in a corner to rot and wither. All alone.

And you weren’t going to let them do it again.

“Fuck that article and fuck all these people who wanna disrespect you.” You tilted his chin upward until his eyes met yours, “we’re gonna go home and order take out. We’re gonna watch some movies. And we’re gonna get through this bullshit together.”

Without another word, you slipped your hand into his and started off in the direction of home. But Bucky didn’t move.

You turned back to him, an expectant look on your face. “You coming?”

“But…” he gave the diner another look, “You didn’t get your chicken and waffles.”

“What?”

“You should go back inside and eat,” Bucky pulled his hand from yours. “I’ll head home and-”

“Buck, I say this with love, but-” you cupped his face, “are you nuts?”

He let out a deep, genuine laugh.

“I’m not gonna eat here ever again,” you spied the manager through the window, “fuck that guy.”

Bucky just wanted you to enjoy the breakfast you’d been dreaming of. He hated that you were willing to deprive yourself. That he’d ruined your special breakfast spot. But your fierce loyalty filled him with warmth. In that moment, he made a mental note. He planned to scour the internet and find the best chicken and waffles in the city to make up for today’s mess.

“I don’t know why I’m surprised,” Bucky said. “You were ready to fist fight that guy.”

You put up your dukes and landed a few faux punches to Bucky’s chest, “hell yeah I was. No one is allowed to treat you like that.” Your hands fell to your sides. A sudden seriousness eclipsed your joking tone. “Ever.”

Bucky pulled you in for a hug, holding you close to his chest. He never thought he’d have someone like you in his life. Someone who loved him. Cared for him. Supported him. But, without fail, you had his back every time. You were his safe harbor, his soft place to land.

Sometimes, he thought that maybe you were with him by accident. Maybe he was never meant to experience your gentle kind of love. Maybe he interrupted you on your path to someone else. Maybe he somehow got tangled in fate’s thread. But he didn’t care.

You took Bucky’s hand once again, prepared to lead him in the direction of home, “Ready?”

Bucky gave you a cheery nod, “let’s-”

“Fuck you, murderer!” a passerby shouted. He disappeared in a flash, bold enough to insult Bucky but cowardly enough not to hang around for the consequences.

Bucky thought the man might’ve said something else as he bolted from the scene, but he didn’t quite catch it. He was too distracted by the vague sounds of discomfort grumbling out of your chest.

“Doll? You alright?”

Slowly, carefully, you turned to him. A look of shock yanked his features upward as he came face to face with the massive coffee stain covering your body. It splashed over the entirety of your chest, streaking down the front of your shirt. Steam still wafted from the drips running down your neck. Rogue droplets dotted your arms.

“Oh my god…” Bucky didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to help you.

The boiling tidal wave seared through your skin, setting each nerve alight. You could’ve sworn it hit bone. The sudden rush of pain forced a trembling into your hands, an unsteadiness into your voice. A stinging rush of tears brimmed against your lash line, but you wouldn’t dare let them fall. Not when you could practically see Bucky choking on his guilt.

“Wow, I wish that asshole was more of a cold brew guy,” you joked. “And he ruined my favorite shirt with his shitty aim.”

Bucky’s chest seemed to fold in on itself. It shuddered and shrank, collapsing against his thundering heart. Each inhale was shallower, greedier than the last. Oxygen leeched from his lungs as the crushing panic set it. An ever-darkening shadow clouded the edges of his vision- but he couldn’t succumb. Not when you needed him.

Before he knew what was happening, he used his body to form a protective shell around you. He ushered you toward the diner door, scanning the area for oncoming threats. No one else was going to get to you- not today, not ever.

A deep sigh of relief left Bucky’s chest as he ushered you inside. Sure, it was only coffee. And you weren’t even the target. But every passing second brought a new, horrifying ‘what if’ to the forefront of Bucky’s mind.

What if you’d been thrown to the ground?

What if you’d been shot?

What if vengeful people wanted to spill your blood as payment for Bucky’s crimes?

He thought he might throw up.

But the second he made it to the hostess stand, his nausea dissipated. The fog clouding his mind cleared. You were his priority- everything else could wait.

“Someone just threw hot coffee on her,” Bucky said to the hostess. His words came out quick, firm. “She needs ice now.”

The hostess’s features sunk with a heavy guilt. “Oh, shit. I-” She glanced across the room at the manager and watched him with narrowed eyes as he schmoozed with the regulars. “I’ll go grab some right now, give me one second.”

The seconds dragged. Anxiety coursed through Bucky, prickling at his every cell. He clenched and unclenched his fists. Bit down on the inside of his cheek. Anything to calm the worry. But he couldn’t help it; you were attacked- because of him. And he needed to remedy it as quickly as possible.

“You doing okay?” He stared down at you, worry creasing his features.

You nodded, “yeah. Doesn’t hurt that bad anymore. I think all of my nerves have gone numb, ya know?” You attempt at humor sunk like lead.

“Baby, I’m so-”

“What the fuck did I say?!” the manager stomped over to Bucky, his wrath on full display. “I’m calling the cops! I already kicked you out once-”

Bucky held up a hand in surrender, “We just need some ice- the hostess went to get it. As soon as she gets back, I’ll go.”

The manager rolled his eyes, “No- you don’t get anything from us. Leave! I’m calling the police!”

It was then that the hostess appeared with a large plastic bag full of ice. She looked at you with kind eyes, apologizing silently for her manager’s behavior. “Here you go. Is this enough? I can get more-”

“It’s plenty, really,” you hastily grabbed for the bag and pressed it to your scorched skin. The cool sensation flooded your senses, doing away with any remaining discomfort. “Thank you.”

“Great, you got your ice,” the manager spat, “now get out.”

Bucky thanked the hostess a hundred times over as guilt settled in his stomach. He knew she’d get in trouble for helping him. He knew the manager would scream at her- most likely in front of everyone. But she’d shown the two of you kindness. She did her best to help you in a moment of need, regardless of what others said. And it renewed Bucky’s faith in strangers- if only for a moment.

“How does that feel? Is it okay?” Bucky eyed the dripping bag of ice, the shivering in your fingers. “I can ask her for-”

“Hey! Do you speak English, or just Russian?” The manager yelled, “GET. THE FUCK. OUT. You understand?”

Part of Bucky wanted to disappear into a cave for a while. Wanted to hide from the ridicule. But he couldn’t check out. He couldn’t evaporate and leave you to fend for yourself. No, he’d made a promise to himself the day he met you; he swore he’d always protect you. And though he couldn’t stop the public from treating you with malice, he could at least get you home safely.

“Woah, hey- where are you going?” Bucky put a hand over yours, halting your attempt to open the diner door.

“Well, I don’t know if you heard the lovely manager of this fine establishment,” you said, “but he wants us to, and I quote, ‘get the fuck out’. So that’s what I’m doing.”

Bucky gave a fervent shake of his head, “No. You wait in here. I’m gonna get us a cab, and-”

“It’s okay, I’ll come with you.” You gave the door a tug, but Bucky kept it from budging.

“Don’t,” a dark seriousness clung to Bucky’s words. “I don’t want anything else happening to you.”

Bucky’s protective nature was always sweet. Always made you feel special. You couldn’t help the tiny grin that pulled at your features. “Babe, it was just coffee-”

“This time,” a grave look ghosted over his face. “It was just coffee this time.”

Bucky let his eyes drift to the busy sidewalk outside. Every stranger, every passing face posed a threat to your safety. Anyone could have a knife. A gun. And while Bucky was certain that the hot coffee had been meant for him- that you were simply collateral damage, an unintended target- he feared how the city might treat you. You’d already been followed, harassed, filmed, attacked. People saw you as fair game, as a token of retribution. An eye for an eye that made the city blind with hate.

“Can you just-” He dragged his gaze back to you, “will you please wait inside?”

Bucky couldn’t remember ever being this scared. Not on the train, not at Hydra. This was different; this was your life at stake. Your vulnerabilities exposed to the world. It was as if a magnifying glass sat posed above you, giving anyone and everyone a detailed look into your life. Bucky knew there wasn’t much time before the rays of the sun burned you alive.

“Okay, yeah,” you released the door handle, “I’ll stay in here.” It was the least you could do.

He was deathly pale, his hand shaking with anxiety. He worried about you so intensely that you sometimes feared he’d get sick. And though no part of you wanted to send Bucky out there alone, you agreed.

His shoulders relaxed ever so slightly; the whisper of a smile crossed his face. “Thank you,” he dropped a kiss to your forehead and headed outside to the world that hated him.

And hate him they did. You watched from the diner window, the scene that played out filling you with anguish. Not a single cab even slowed down for him. Vacant taxis turned off their lights as they approached- only to turn them back on once they’d passed. Bucky’s shoulders grew more slumped with each unsuccessful attempt at hailing a cab. His head drooped; his expression grew pained. This wasn’t fair. After his pardon, he’d worked so hard to earn the public’s trust, to reenter their good graces. He made his amends, went to therapy, even did a few interviews at Sam’s suggestion.

One poorly written article in a shit-rag paper, however, was enough to send him back to square one.

All Bucky wanted was to get you home safely, and he couldn’t. He couldn’t even provide something that basic, that simple. He cursed himself relentlessly as taxi after taxi flew by. He was supposed to protect you, to take care of you. And yet, he was the reason for your pain. Your peril. It made him nauseous.

After countless failed attempts at securing a ride, Bucky turned to face you. He stared at you through the dirty glass, shame and disappointment dragging his features downward. For a long moment, he just stood there. Completely still. Passersby bumped into him every now and again. People muttered under their breath about him being in the way. But he didn’t move. He just looked at you, the person he loved most. You, the person he cared for above all else. You, the person he couldn’t protect. Couldn’t provide for.

Part of him thought it best to just walk away. His absence would make your life easier, less chaotic. Safer. If he left you alone, maybe you’d find someone else. Someone normal. Someone better. Someone who could take you out to breakfast without putting you in harm’s way. Someone whose mere existence didn’t prompt strangers to scream at you in public.

But he couldn’t leave you- ever. He was bound to you from day one.

One last fruitless attempt at catching a cab sent his heart sinking down, down, down to the soles of his feet. And as he approached the diner with his tail between his legs, he felt himself stepping on it with each pace. He was so embarrassed, so ashamed. With a quick wave of his hand, he beckoned you to the door and popped his head inside.

“Baby, could you…” he was almost too downtrodden to speak. “Could you get us a cab? No one will-” he cleared his throat, “No one will stop for me.”

The look on his face hurt worse than your scorched skin.

“Of course, Buck. Yeah. Don’t worry about it.”

It wasn’t lost on Bucky how quickly a cab stopped for you. It took less than a minute, maybe less thirty seconds. He stood on the sidelines, as far away from you as he could possibly get without leaving you defenseless. You looked good out there on your own, free from his burden.

The cab ride home was quiet. Uncomfortable. The driver eyed Bucky in the rearview as though appraising a threat. He gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles lost all color. You swore you heard the gas pedal hit the floorboards more than once. The car sliced through traffic and screeched to a halt outside your building, throwing you forward in your seat. The seatbelt tightened against your scalded skin, pulling a groan from your throat.

“Thanks. Um,” Bucky handed the driver a wad of cash, “keep the change.” He kept his focus trained on you but couldn’t pretend he didn’t notice the way the driver flinched. The way his muscles yanked his body in the opposite direction. The way his hands shook as he took the money. Bucky wished to evaporate.

But he couldn’t, not yet. Not when you needed him. And so, he walked you upstairs and ushered you into the small apartment you shared. He double and triple checked the deadbolt, even pulled on the door to ensure your safety. He couldn’t let anything else happen to you- he’d rather die.

“Alright, well, I’m gonna go take a shower,” you broke the tense silence. “I reek of cinnamon soy latte.” The laugh that punctuated your sentence did nothing to brighten Bucky’s stormy expression.

“Sounds good, doll,” he nodded. “You can just drop your clothes in the hall, I’ll throw them in the laundry for you.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you frowned down at your coffee-stained shirt, appraising the damage done. “I don’t think this thing can be saved.”

Bucky shrugged, “It couldn’t hurt. I’ll give it a try.” He dropped a kiss to the top of your head, “it’s the least I could do.” And with a light tap to your ass, he sent you off to shower. The gesture wasn’t as lighthearted as it was just a few hours earlier, but he was trying. Trying to appear less dejected. Less broken.

But you saw through the façade.

When you emerged, free from the smell of coffee, you found Bucky in the kitchen standing over the kettle. He stared down at it, his hands resting on either side of the stove top, his shoulders nearly reaching his ears. You knew that look- he was lost inside his own head.

“You know, I don’t think you’re supposed to watch that thing…” you said, snapping him out of his train of thought. “Otherwise, it’ll never boil.”

His head snapped up. The darkness clouding his eyes parted. He smiled at your lame joke, letting your lighthearted tone lift his spirits. “I was just gonna make you a tea, I know you haven’t had the easiest day.” He just wanted to right the ship, to steer the two of you out of the dark, choppy waters in which you found yourselves. Maybe, this small, kind gesture could make up for your ruined Saturday. Maybe, it would keep you from leaving.

“How was your shower?”

Just thinking about it made you wince. “It was fine, I guess. I had to use the coldest water possible- any warmth at all made my skin hurt.”

Bucky’s eyes flicked from your face to the kettle and back. Worry creased his brow. “Should I not…” He sighed, “Are hot beverages out of the question?” He couldn’t believe how absentminded he’d been.

“No! Definitely not,” you pressed a kiss to his cheek, “you know I’ll always take a tea. Thanks, babe.”

A small, proud smile spread across Bucky’s face. For once, he didn’t disappoint you. For once, he didn’t ruin the moment. After such a nightmarish day, he finally breathed easy, knowing that he’d done one thing right.

“I was thinking I could run out and grab us something to eat,” Bucky said when he got you settled on the couch with your tea and a fresh ice pack. “I know you’re probably starving. And I could-”

“Baby, no,” you shook your head. “I don’t want you out there- I don’t want you getting harassed or attacked. We’re in hermit mode for a few days until this whole thing blows over. Okay?”

Bucky barely mustered a nod.

“Let’s just order some take out. What sounds good?” You dropped your ice pack to the side, grimacing at the loss of the cool sensation. But comfort could wait. You opened your laptop and sat up, poised to take Bucky’s order. But he didn’t answer.

He remained silent for a long while, eyeing the floor with a blank stare. His nails dug into the palm of his hand; his jaw tensed. Something deep within him fought tooth and nail to claw its way out. It scratched at his insides, screaming for release. Bucky didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to even chance upsetting you. But the words slipped out of his mouth before he had a chance to stop them.

“Do you ever regret this?”

You cocked your head to the side, “Regret what?”

“This-” Bucky gestured to himself, and then you. “Us.”

The words hurt worse than your scorched chest. “No. Why would you even say that?”

Bucky shrugged, “Because you’re covered in second degree burns and it’s my fault.” Never before had he ever sounded this broken, this hopeless. Not even after Steve left.

“Buck, it’s not your fault,” you shut your computer and inched closer to him. “You’re not the one who threw hot coffee on me-”

“But the person who did was aiming for me, and you got caught in the crossfire,” he choked out. “That’s my fault.”

“It’s not-”

He stood suddenly, his anxiety forcing him to move. “Can you deal with this for the rest of your life? All the staring and the harassment? And the hiding at home because everyone hates me? Is that the kind of life you want?” He paced with a fervent drive, fearing that if he didn’t burn through the nervous energy, he’d suffocate under it.

But, even in the face of his frantic movements, you remained seated, remained calm. Talking to Bucky in this state was like coaxing an injured animal into your home. One wrong move, and he’d bolt. Every move, ever word, had to be slow, measured. With an even tone and soft words, you refuted his sentiments. “I want whatever kind of life lets me be with you-”

“You want people throwing coffee on you forever? You want-” He paused, only to place your icepack on your chest once again. “You want to be kicked out of restaurants and denied cabs? Just to be with me?”

One small nod. “Yes.”

Bucky stopped in his tracks. He turned to you, his expression blank. “People used to vandalize my apartment, you know…”

“What?”

He nodded. “After I finally came back to New York and tried to settle in…” The memories of those uncomfortable, disjointed days filled Bucky with dread. He’d never been so lonely, so lost. He pulled away from you, fearing he’d complicated your life. He forced himself into isolation. And to make matters worse, his community turned their back on him. They didn’t welcome him home or celebrate his survival. They made him wish he’d never made it back. “They broke my windows, filled my mailbox with pictures of my victims, used animal blood to write ‘KILLER’ across my front door-” He let out a heavy sigh, one that came from deep within his bones. “That’s why I moved so often. My landlords- no matter how sketchy they were, no matter how much illegal shit they did to their tenants- kept kicking me out. I was too much of a liability, even for those shithole places.”

It left you reeling. Images of Bucky coming home to find his place completely trashed hurt you in a way you didn’t know was possible. You could see him, covered in blood, scrubbing his front door in the middle of the night. Wiping tears from his eyes as he looked through piles of photos of the people he hurt. Taping pieces of cardboard over his broken windows in the hopes of keeping out the severe, violent winters. He didn’t deserve any of it.

With a deep breath, you forced yourself back to the present. “Buck, I don’t care about things like that. They can vandalize our place if they want. They can throw coffee at me.” Slowly, carefully, you rose from the couch. “As long as nothing happens to you, I’m happy.”

A rough scoff launched out of Bucky’s throat, “Come on-”

“No, you come on,” Your words came out too intense, too hard. But you couldn’t maintain your even keel anymore. Not when Bucky was moments from unraveling. “I have been in this with you since the day we met. I knew- almost immediately- that you were the person I wanted to be with. Even when you didn’t know where- or who- you were. Even when you went back into cryo. Even when you turned to dust and disappeared for five years.” Dredging up the past hurt. It sliced you open and tore your heart into pieces. But you didn’t dare fall apart- not yet. “Even when you pushed me away,” your voice wavered, “I have been with you- and I always will be. Because I know who you are. I know you’re a good person.” A few tears dripped down your cheeks, “I don’t want anyone else. I want you.“

“Why?” Bucky shook his head, “I don’t- I can’t understand that.”

“Because you’re just- you’re you, baby,” you couldn’t help but smile at the thought of Bucky’s existence. “You’re kind. And you’re thoughtful. And you’re compassionate. You care about everything. Everyone. I’ve never met anyone with a heart like yours…” You shrugged, “I love you. So much.”

“I know you do. And I love you, but…” His eyes dropped to the floor, “I feel like being with me is a waste of your time. A waste of your love. You know? You should be with someone good. Someone with less baggage, whose hands aren’t stained with the blood of innocent people.” He dragged his gaze up to meet yours, desperation in his eyes. “I want to give you everything- I want to give you the world. But I can’t. I can’t give you what other people can. I can’t give you what you deserve.”

“I don’t want any of that- I don’t want the world,” you shrugged. “I want you.” To you, it was simple. Completely uncomplicated. But Bucky didn’t see it that way.

“Is that- am I enough, though? I mean, the quality of life I’ve given you so far has been…” He thought back on all the terrors and trials you’d face together. All the disasters to which he subjected you. He shuddered. “Everything I put you through is so fucking messed up. And scary. And painful. And-”

He shook his head. Since the day he fell for you, he knew one simple truth. And for years, he did his best to deny it. Hide it. Run from it. But it came spilling forward all at once.

“There’s always gonna be something with me. Some problem, some mess. I’m either gone for weeks, fighting god knows who, completely unable to talk to you until I show up at home covered in blood,” he said. “Or I’m here with you while strangers to accost you on the street because they hate me.” He shook his head, disappointed in himself. Why did he allow you into his dumpster fire of a life? Why would he subject you to the heartache and the misery he knew lurked around every corner?

He fought the tears gathering in his eyes, the emotion that attempted to block his airway. “The waters are never going to be smooth. Not with me. And I don’t want you to have to deal with the fucking tidal wave of bullshit that is my life. You deserve better- you deserve better than me.”

“Buck-”

“I want your life to be safe. Peaceful. Comfortable. Not-” he gestured to the icepack on your chest, “whatever it is now.”

Without a word, you took him by the hand and led him to the couch. And for a long moment, he refused to sit with you. He didn’t want to give in, to lower his defenses and allow himself to get comfortable. But your red-rimmed eyes, glassy with tears, forced him to take a seat.

And when he finally rested beside you, you ditched your icepack and took his face in your hands. “Everything you said that you want for me? I already have it. I have all of that.”

He shook his head, “Doll-”

“You make me feel safer and more comfortable than I ever have. Being with you is like being wrapped in a warm blanket made of bullet proof bubble wrap.”

Bucky couldn’t stop himself from letting out a quiet laugh.

“I’m serious. You can talk about how the life I lead with you isn’t enough and how you’re not enough, but this,” you gestured to yourself and then him, “is everything I’ve ever wanted. Being here with you in our home is… it’s the most peace I’ve ever known. Even when we’re just sitting in silence, it’s- it’s warm. It’s comforting.” You inched closer to him and rested your head on his shoulder, “It’s like we’re the only two people on the planet. And we can just exist in the other’s atmosphere without pressure or fear. We understand each other. And it’s perfect.”

A rush of pink colored Bucky’s cheeks. Sometimes, even after all the years he’d spent with you, he didn’t know how to handle such loving sentiments. But there was no pressure to perfectly articulate his thoughts or express himself without flaws. A simple “I love you” did the trick. He leaned into you, allowing your warmth to soothe his aching soul.

“All that shit that happened today didn’t even bother me much,” you told him. “The lady in the bookstore, and the staring, and the coffee thing- I can deal with that kind of stuff. I can take that every day as long as I get to be with you.”

He pressed a kiss to your hair and caught a vague whiff off coffee but didn’t bring it up.

“The only part that really upset me,” you continued, “was seeing people be so mean to you. And watching you get so down on yourself.” Reliving Bucky’s heartbroken expression at the diner almost made you tear up. “I can handle a rogue Starbucks, but I’ll never accept anyone treating you like that. You're everything to me- you always will be.”

Bucky handed you your icepack, begging you to put it back on your scalded skin where it belonged. “Well, I appreciate your support," he smiled to himself, "and your fierce loyalty.”

A mischievous laugh rumbled out of your chest. “Good. Just remember than when I call you from the county jail after I get arrested for burning that fucking newspaper to the ground.”

---------------

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vivwritesfics · 4 months

Text

Set The World On Fire

Chapter Four

Lando Norris had been incredibly angry when they met. Incredibly angry, but sweet enough to help her. Turns out he just needed somebody to talk to, somebody to be there for him.

He was easy to fall for, and that put her in a world of danger

Mafia AU

1.7K

Series Masterlist

She was late for work, again. Her boss was going to kill her.

Just like last time she rushed around the house, grabbing what she needed before she left. This time she managed to grab lunch before she rushed off to the office.

When she got there, nobody noticed how late she was. There was a buzz of something else as she slipped into her cubicle, unnoticed. Everybody else was looking towards the bosses office, whispering to themselves.

"What is it?" She asked the girl in the cubicle beside her own as she leaned over.

The girl in the cubicle was also looking towards the bosses office. Staring, actually. "The hottest guy I've ever seen just walked into Oliver's office," she hissed. "Does Oliver have a son?"

"No way," Y/N answered. She too found herself staring towards the office, captivated.

Inside of the office, Lando was beating the shit out of Oliver Cooke, boss of HC Publishing. "You got the money yet, Oliver?" Lando asked between punches. His knuckles ached in the best way.

"Yes!" Oliver cried, thanking god that his office was soundproof. If his employees heard this, he'd never get over it. "Yes, I'll pay you!"

Lando stopped punching just long enough for Oliver to run over to his chest and pull out a stack of bills. He handed it to Lando, flinching when Lando raised his hand to count the stack of bills, to make sure all of the money was there.

"Pleasure doing business with you," he said and strode out of the office.

Immediately the employees went back to work, glued their eyes back to their computer like they hadn't just been waiting for him to walk out of the office. The girls were pretty, and he couldn't stop himself from glancing into the cubicles.

Until he came across her.

"Y/N?"

She looked up at him, her eyes wide in surprise. "Lando, what the fuck?" But then a smile crawled across her face. "Are you stalking me? I'm flattered but, seriously, you didn't have to go to this length."

"Not stalking," he said quickly. "But incredibly surprised to see you. I had no idea you worked at HC Publishing."

That was because she hadn't told him where she worked. They talked about everything but their jobs when they drank in his club. "Listen," he said as he leaned against the cubicle. "I've got to go to Spain for a few days. Do you wanna hang out before that?"

"As long as we can do something that isn't drinking in your club until the early hours of the morning. If I'm late again, my boss is gonna kill me."

Lando could do something about that. One word with Oliver, one flash of his bloody knuckles (which were currently hidden in his pockets) and she'd be able to do whatever she wanted in this place.

"Do you wanna have dinner at mine?" She offered.

"Yours as in where you live?" Asked Lando. He had no need to know where she lived, but it would certainly help. "Yeah," he answered, nodding his head. "That would be nice."

"Perfect," she said and quickly wrote something down. "I finish at five." She ripped the piece of paper out of her notepad and handed it to him.

Lando couldn't stop himself from grinning as he said his goodbyes. He was practically skipping out of HC Publishing, and he didn't give a flying fuck who saw.

"Y/N, what the fuck?" Several of her co-workers called.

She looked around at them. "What?" She asked as she logged into her work computer. "What did I do?"

"You know the hot guy that had a meeting with Mr Cooke! How?" They all asked as they crowded around her cubicle. It was all very intense.

She was the talk of the office for the rest of the day, a never ending source of gossip. She ignored it, pretended not to hear it when they theorised how they knew her. There were several people that theorised that she had slept with him, others that had kinder theories. One person straight up asked if they were childhood friends.

The end of the work day couldn't come quick enough. As soon as the clock hit five, she grabbed her things and rushed out of the office. Her co-workers were still whispering even as she left.

As soon as she got home, she checked in her fridge. There wasn't enough in there to make a decent dinner for two and she wanted to pick up some wine.

Showering and changing into her sweats, she headed down to the shops. It was a small shop and everything was marked up, but she still shopped out, purely out of convenience. She bought what she needed, plus two bottles of wine, and headed back up to her apartment.

With no idea what time Lando was arriving, she began cooking. She multitasked, managing to get dressed while she cooked.

What she didn't know was that Lando was outside of her apartment. He was dressed down, his suit jacket missing and the top three buttons of his shirt open, revealing his necklace against his chest. He leaned against one of the trees lining the street opposite her apartment and stared up at the apartment he thought was hers.

She ran past the window on her way to and from the kitchen and Lando knew. It was definitely her apartment. The area around wasn't the nicest; Lando had done enough shady deals in this area to know. An uneasy feeling settled in his chest.

He strode forward, making his way into the building. He already had her addressed memorised, reciting it in his head as he climbed the stairs to the third floor. Lando passed two other front doors before he was standing in front of her apartment. The light in the hallway above him flickered as he raised his hand to knock.

"Fuck!" He heard from the other side of the door. There was a crash before the door opened and she stood there, hand on her hip as she smiled. "Welcome to mi casa," she said and stood to the side, letting him in.

Lando looked around as he strode in. There was no sign of what had made the crashing noise, and he could only assume that she had cleaned it up. "Nice place," he said, looking at the pictures on the walls.

There were some generic ones that she obviously hadn't changed from when she bought the frame. Pictures of family, pictures of pets, pictures of friends. They made her walls bright and colourful.

She had lights strung up around the apartment. Comically large hearts lit by fairy lights, classic chilli pepper lights and more. The couch was covered in blankets and cushions and a giant eight ball rug on the floor.

The apartment had a good feeling spreading through his chest.

"Thanks," she said as she pulled the first bottle of wine out of the fridge and opened the top. "My friends say my calling is interior design. My bank account says to stop buying everything that looks cool." She poured out the wine and handed a glass to Lando.

They tapped their glasses together and she invited him to sit on the sofa. They talked and she managed to take his mind away from his impending trip to Spain. Periodically she ran off to check on dinner and set the table.

After a good fifteen minutes of drinking and chatting, she plated up the food and invited Lando to join her at the table. He brought his wine with him, slipping into the seat opposite her as she lit a candle.

"Do all the guys get a candle lit dinner?" He asked with a teasing smile.

"What guys?" She answered through a laugh.

For a moment, they ate in silence. Well, almost silence. Lando let out a series of moans as he took the first bites. "Fuck me," he said as he got more food onto his fork. But he had no more positive words as he wolfed everything down at an inhuman speed.

She was eating just slightly slower. "So, why were you at the publishing house?" She asked as she picked up her glass.

Lando stopped eating. He should have expected her to ask, but he hadn't. "Uh," he began, trying to formulate a lie. Not that he wanted to lie to her, but he wanted to keep her as far away from his world as he could. "Uh, the people I work for own the building that you guys rent," he said. "I was... having a chat with Oliver about the changing rates," he finished and quickly went back to his food.

She nodded. "It's kind of cool," she said, her gaze on her food. "That you guys own the place where I work."

Lando nodded in agreement, but mostly because he didn't want to say anything else on the matter.

But she had more questions. "You said you're going to Spain, right?" She asked and he nodded his head, still eating. "So, what're you going for?" She asked enthusiastically. "Family holiday?"

Again, Lando didn't want to lie to her. But he had no other choice. He told her as much of the truth as he could. "We're having a wedding out there," he answered.

"A wedding, huh? Fancy."

No, it was going to be traumatising, Lando thought as he finished his food. It was going to be a beautiful ceremony, he knew, but he was dreading it.

It was switch turned on in his head. "Hey," he said suddenly. "Do you wanna come with me for the wedding?" He asked.

"Seriously?" She asked, surprise in her voice.

He nodded his head. "Yeah, hell yeah! It's gonna be a nice ceremony and they'll have an open bar, and I could use the moral support."

"I'd love to, Lan," she said, letting a smile cross her face. "Thanks. I can't wait."

So much for keeping her as far away from his world as he could.

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jinnie-ret · 2 months

Text

cigarette duet

poly!stray kids x ninth member!reader

genre: angst, fluff at the end

content warnings: smoking, mentions of rehab, mentions of recovery

word count: 3k

summary: you get hounded by your boyfriends after they catch you smoking. how will they react when you disappear and go off the radar?

requested: @ihrtlix

It has been a while since I've written! I'm sorry it's taken me so long to get around to the requests for this event but I'm getting back into the swing of things! Hope you enjoy! Please don't take offense to any opinions presented in this imagine. Enjoy! And if you want to be tagged in anything I write please lemme know! <3

1K FOLLOWERS PLAYLIST 💚🖤

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•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Perhaps you had smoked one too many cigarettes last night. Waking up the next morning after battling your stresses with the addictive feed of nicotine, your throat felt dry, hoarse, scratchy even.

"Baby, are you sure you're not sick?" Felix fussed, placing his hand delicately on your forehead to gain an idea of your temperature. "I mean, you don't feel hot, but maybe you're coming down with something?"

"I'm fine, love, just need some water," you kiss his hand that was pulling away from your face, offering a reassuring smile after clearing your throat.

And in your mind, that was enough. You didn't notice the little things that your boyfriends did however.

"Binnie, what are you doing? You look like a perv haha," Hyunjin giggled at the sight of Changbin rummaging through the laundry basket and sniffing your hoodie.

"Ssshhh, keep it down. And plus, it's not being pervy, people in relationships do it all the time. It's comforting smelling each other's clothing," Changbin righteously pointed out to his boyfriend, puffing his chest before adding, "well, normally it is..." he sighed.

"Woah that's mean, you can't say our girlfriend smells," Hyunjin pushed Changbin's shoulder, laughing again but with wide eyes this time round.

"No, no, you've got the wrong idea anyways. I think... I think Y/N's been smoking. I can smell it on her hoodie," Changbin sighed, tossing the white hoodie of yours back into the washing basket that was full to the brim. He was about to continue his spiel of conspiracies until he jumped when your arms wrapped around behind him.

"Aw, babe, are you doing the washing? Thank god for that, I was worried it would never get done," you squeezed him tightly once more before kissing him on the cheek and continuing your venture into the kitchen, Felix trailing behind you.

"I think she's getting sick, I'm gonna see if we have any meds in the cupboard, or some throat sweets at least," Felix pouted as he walked past his two boyfriends, Hyunjin ruffling his hair on the way.

Changbin threw a meaningful look at Hyunjin, alarms going off in his head because it only added more fuel to the blazing fire of thoughts in his head.

"Look, we don't know that she is smoking for sure. Maybe she's just been around some friends that are?" Hyunjin whispers hurriedly, yet this caught Seungmin's attention, and his ears too.

"Huh? What are you talking about?" Seungmin casually stood between the two, grabbing laundry detergent and capsules from the cupboard to act natural yet because practical at the same time.

"I'll explain later, to all of you. I'm just a bit concerned," Changbin sighed, rubbing his hand across his face before actually making a start on the chore at hand.

It was an escape for you, much like it was for other people who smoked cigarettes. And plus, you hadn't been doing it for long. You thought what could the harm be when you didn't do it a lot? Plus, it was handy that none of your boyfriends batted an eyelid in the studio when you said you wanted to go outside for some air. In fact, it gave the opportunity for Changbin to lay out his thoughts to the rest of your boyfriends who hadn't yet heard his observations.

"Y/N... I don't think she'd do that, I can't picture it," Jeongin shook his head, shaking his hands in confusion because the picture being painted in front of them seemed very unlikely and it wasn't a nice one to think of.

"And she knows it's too risky. First of all we're idols. I hate to say it but we have to think about that first in situations like these. Even when we're drinking we've got to be careful. If you're right about this, Binnie, then..." Chan groaned, leaning back into his seat with a huff.

"But she did just go out 'for some air'," Han added on, brows furrowed as he thought what Changbin was saying was quite plausible.

"Ok. We'll go check then," Minho shrugged as he stood.

"What?" Felix too stood up.

"We can't sit here and keep worrying. Let's go check and see for ourselves. If we're wrong... And I hope we are... Then it's fine," Minho grabbed his phone and shoved it into his pocket, scanning around the room for his boyfriends' reactions.

"And if we're not wrong, then what?" Hyunjin voiced his concerns.

"Let's just hope we're not," Chan was first to walk out the door, the rest of Stray Kids following along after him like ducklings and their mother. Apart from this time it wasn't the cute, adorable scene you'd hope for, especially because they could smell the smoke and see your lax figure as soon as they rounded the corner to the back of the building.

"No. Y/N you've got to be kidding me!" Chan snatched the cigarette out of your hand and immediately stomped it out.

"Chan I-" you fumbled on your words, eyes wide as you had all eight of your lovers stood in front of you. And the way they looked at you made you stomach twist into knots you were sure you'd never felt.

Disappointment. Anger. Concern. Indifference.

"Let's talk about this inside," Changbin wrapped an arm around your shoulder as he spoke quietly to you.

Your heart was racing faster. They were going to think the worst. But you had a way out of this. It wasn't even that bad. Sure, over the past month maybe you'd have been spending more money on packs of cigarettes, yet on the inside you felt as if there were worse things you could be doing to yourself.

"Sit," Minho bluntly said, face unreadable, tone void of emotion.

And so you did.

"We'll just have a conversation about this, nice and calm, ok?" Felix nudged Chan in particular with his leg.

It seemed however that it wasn't a conversation, but more of an intervention. A heated one, at that.

"I can't be nice and calm, Lix! Our girlfriend is destroying her body, and for what?" Chan's voice rose ever so slightly, hands squeezing the arms of the chair he was tensely sat in.

"It's just a cigarette," you feebly replied. That backbone of yours was slowly wearing away the more and more anger you felt radiating off of your partners.

"Don't be ridiculous," Seungmin scoffed, "think of the damage it's doing. Think about your career."

"It's more than just the odd cigarette, right?" Changbin prodded, wanting answers to the millions of questions he had. After all, he was the first one to notice how you gradually stopped voicing your concerns to him but still sometimes had the habits that showed your anxiety.

"Well, yes, but-" you began but were cut off.

"No buts. That's... It's, you're hurting yourself, hurting your lungs. Why are you doing this, baby?" Jeongin took your hand in his, concern not the only thing glistening in his eyes, which broke your heart.

"It's just a nice distraction, that's all. It won't go on forever, I'll just stop when I want to," you shrug your shoulders, squeezing his hand to show you meant what you said.

"It's not that easy. Nicotine. It's addictive. You think you can just stop like that?" Hyunjin frowned, shaking his head.

"I know I can," you firmly said, urging them with your voice to trust you.

"I don't know what planet you're living on," Chan shook his head.

"Channie..." Felix bit his lip, feeling torn. On one hand he didn't want your boyfriend to be so tough with you, but he also disagreed with the choices you made, the ones you were making.

"No I'm sorry but Y/N, babe, you've made one of the stupidest choices you could make! Seungminnie is right, Jeongin too. It's damaging for your body, let alone your career. You keep this up, you're not going to be able to sing as well as before. And then it'll get to the point where you can't breathe as well anymore," Chan ranted, fiddling with the bracelets adorning his wrist as he didn't take his eyes away from yours, not once.

"I just told you it's not going to go that far!" your face contorted to one of disbelief.

"That's out of your control," Minho sternly redirected your attention to him.

"Wow. It's like you don't even trust me. I'm not some kid. I can make my own decisions. So what if I'm doing this for a little bit of stress relief? For a bit of fun. It helps me," your voice almost turns to pleading, wanting them to hear you out, hear your reasoning.

"It hurts you, baby. And when it hurts you, it hurts us as well," Han bit his lip after shakily speaking up. He didn't like this situation, not one bit.

"I'm not doing it to hurt you. I'd never do that," your voice wobbled, throat feeling as if it was closing up from the sob that was lodged down there.

"Too late. I mean just look," Chan emptied your handbag, empty packets of cigarettes and some not, falling out onto the floor of the studio.

"Y/N, that's a lot," Hyunjin gasped, clutching a hand on his chest.

"It's not. It's not that bad..." you denied as you knelt on the floor and tidied up the mess.

"You're in complete denial," Seungmin rolled his eyes.

"I'm not! I'm well aware of my actions thank you very much!" you shouted suddenly, causing everyone to freeze at the volume you had just reached.

The guilt set in. It was never meant to go this far. It was just meant to be for stress relief. Something to distract you from the aches and pains, physical and mental. It wasn't long until you'd be performing a special fanmeeting and relearning old choreographies and a cover had you feeling like you were being worked down to the bone. Even iconic dances like God's Menu were hard to remember, and you felt like you had no chance. No choice. It was like it fell into your lap so easily.

The first time you had stood outside to catch some air, it was for that genuine reason. And you weren't alone. You didn't know if the person worked at your company, if you knew them, whatever. But their hand offering you something that could bring you temporary bliss was a solution you were grateful for. Only now, you were seeing that it was short term.

"You need help. Seriously..." Chan spat, grabbing his backpack and storming out of the studio.

"Find a way to end this, Y/Nnie," Felix mumbled, stroking your hair gently before following Chan out with a rush.

"You're all just going to go?" your voice cracked. Were they leaving you now?

"We just need some time," Changbin sighed. And then he was gone too.

"You're leaving me?" you sniffled, standing up to face your boyfriends that were still in the room.

"Not like that, baby. We're just giving you time to think about how you can stop this, ok?" Han stroked your face as he made sure you knew this wasn't the end. And then he left too, Minho, Hyunjin, Seungmin and Jeongin leaving too.

All alone. Perhaps it was what you deserved. You relied on the cigarettes more than your boyfriends. And they were all you had left for the moment. That was when it sank in. You had to make a change. You had to stop this habit form taking over your life, from pushing away the people you love most, and from taking your life away.

•••

"She's sorting herself out at least... that's got to be commendable."

"I guess so. Let's just hope it doesn't get out that a JYP idol is at rehab for smoking."

"It won't. And she's doing well from what I've heard..."

This was the only time Han was grateful for the staff gossiping. Immediately, he felt calmer. Considering the boys had spent the last few days blowing up your phone and worrying where you went, it was an oddly relieving feeling hearing you were at rehab. They had tried asking JYP himself, asking the manager of the company where you were but all they said was that you were safe.

"I know where she is!" Han bursted through the apartment door, slamming it shut behind him as he panted out of breath.

"Woah, woah, ok, deep breaths, let's sit down," Chan, with the darkest circles around his eyes yet, gently sat Han down on the sofa. He felt awful. He thought he had driven you away from them all. From the group. From the relationship. And that had been eating him up inside. It was a wonder he could act so calm with the news of you going into rehab.

"Rehab? For smoking? I didn't even know that was a thing," Seungmin hummed in thought, his arms crossed.

"I didn't either, but I overheard the staff. They say she's doing well. It's a good thing, right?" Han's eyes stared through the souls of everyone gathered in the lounge, begging for some sort of confirmation that things would get better.

"I mean, at least we're a bit more in the know then our own fans about why our girlfriend is on hiatus," Changbin brushed his fluffy, dark hair out of his eye.

"Can't we go and see her?" Felix wondered, lifting his head up from where it rested on Minho's shoulder.

"We shouldn't," Minho quietly sighed.

"Why not?" Jeongin quickly turned to him, mouth parted in shock that he didn't want to see Y/N.

"No, he's right. She's gone there for a reason. To get better. It's what we all said to her, isn't it? We'll see her soon. And when we do... It'll all be better," Chan helped everyone see sense. He was right. You had listened to them. You went and got help and were solving the problem. If they suddenly ambushed you and got in the way of that... You'd be back to square one.

•••

Today was the day, you were finally going back to the boys. You spent a good 3 weeks at rehab, and had been advised on some good coping mechanisms to take your mind off of smoking and how to create some healthier habits. You had shown good progress and it was deemed acceptable for you to leave and spend time back with your loved ones. And you couldn't lie, you were incredibly nervous. You had dropped a text without reading the spam that littered the groupchat, notifying your boyfriends what time you'd be returning, but after that you once again did not read anything else that was sent.

"Oh my baby, I've missed you so much," Han was the first one at the door, pressing kisses all over your face as he took you into his arms, holding you lightly.

"I've missed you too," you cried immediately, despite the weight off your shoulders.

"You're good now, right, darling?" Seungmin softly tugged you away from Han, both of his hands cupping your face whilst his thumbs wiped away your tears.

"I'm better," you nod through tears, Seungmin pressing a kiss to your head and giving space for your other boyfriends to soothe you and reunite with you. It had only been three weeks, yes, but 21 days had never felt so long.

"I'm proud of you, come here," Changbin scooped you into his arms and lifted you slightly, making you giggle before your feet touched the ground once more.

"Thank you... I'm sorry. I didn't realise what I had done... How far it went, you know?" you began, looking down at the floor as Hyunjin came and wrapped his arms around you from behind, his long arms securing you to him.

"We're just happy to see you here, honey, healthier," he whispered into your ear soothingly.

"And please talk to us in future. We had time to think after that, moment, and we know you were doing it as an escape. But we're here for you," Jeongin pecked you on the lips, your heads pressed against each other for a moment before he too moved away.

"Always, we're always here," Felix reiterated what Jeongin preached, and kisses you as well, noses rubbing against each other as he moved away, a cute expression on his face.

"Come here," Minho opened his arms, and you reluctantly left Hyunjin's arms only to be happy again in the warmth of your other boyfriend's embrace.

"Thank you for waiting, all of you," you swayed with him in his hug, until you pulled away and it was only Chan left.

He stood a few metres away, back to you, shoulders shaking ever so slightly.

"Channie... babe," you sighed, tugging his hand to turn him and face you. His words had hurt you the most but it was also a huge wake up call. "Please, look at me, I'm not mad. I'm so grateful."

"I was too harsh with you," he bit his lip, hard, not wanting to let any tears escape.

"I needed it. Look at me now, I'm here, I'm better, and I've got habits I can stick to instead. Ones that won't hurt me. And they won't hurt you guys either," you looked up at him, one hand running through the hair at the nape of his neck and the other cupping his face.

"I'm so glad you're back... We were worried... Lost without you," Chan admitted, staring up at the ceiling before kissing you deeply, expressing all the emotions he had held back whilst you were gone.

"It's all good now. Plus, you should all be proud of me-"

"We are proud of you, baby," Jeongin cut you off stroking your hair.

"Well, be even prouder because I know how to bake an amazing carrot cake if I say so myself," you laughed, sharing a new skill that had occupied your stress and been taught whilst you were away.

"You can bake with me now! Oh my gosh! It's a miracle!" Felix cheered, tugging you into the kitchen as the other boys chuckled from behind you both.

"I didn't think you meant this very second!"

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

tagged: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @hannahhbahng @kpopmenace143 @sakufilms @kailee08 @arloo00 @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z @cheesemonky @his-angell @turtledove824 @2minstan @royal-shinigami @yangbbokari @skzoologist @crabrangoongirl25 @atinyniki @writingforstraykids @minholing @lilmisssona @astraysimp @lixie-phoria

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jd07201990 · 5 months

Text

I shouldn't have opened my mouth. All I had to do was just walk away, and I'd have been fine. Now, It takes 3 showers a day, and a can of Axe a week, just to control the apocalyptic funk of athlete that pours from my pits... and feet... ok, ok I just stink, ok?! And its all because I tried to stop Pops, a local Gym Owner, from bullying one of his regulars.

The massive man was absolutely raging, as he berated a Jock for skipping sessions, despite the young man explaining desperately that he couldn't miss any more assignments or he'd lose his scholarship. It didn't seem to quell Pops's anger, as I watched the man drag the boy to a bench, and force him to lift rep after rep, until the Jock was panting, begging for a break, promising not to miss any more sessions.

I'd been walking on the treadmill the whole time, and decided to get involved. My first mistake. Walking up to Pops, I cleared my throat, and told him to lay off, that clearly the Jock was exhausted. Pops grabbed my collar and hoisted me up off the ground, before I could react, his face nearly against mine as he went off, first about my nosing about, then about how ridiculously thin I am. I stammered, my legs dangling, until Pops put me down, and smirked.

"You know, a little meat on those bones wouldn't hurt. Maybe with a few pounds, those big, sweaty dawgs you've got wouldn't look so clownish!"

My jaw dropped, a squirmed under his gaze, as a shiver went down my spine, and a dull, warm itch began in my feet. I don't know where he'd gotten the idea that my feet were clownish, I'm 5'7" with size 9.5s! But suddenly, my sneakers felt cramped, warm, with a dull humid dampness making it feel as if I'd stuffed my foot into a wet towel.

Then, I groaned, as a sharp pain shot down my ankles, and my sneakers burst open, revealing wide, reeking Jock-feet, at least size 13. A dense funk rose, and I gagged, the intense reek of Athlete poured from my torn shoes. Pops laughed heartily, then sneered.

"And those pits! You'd think with hairy, sweaty pits like those, you'd be top of the roster! Not even Big Billy has pits as bad as yours! There's a bull inside you, just waiting to come out!"

Again, that cold shiver ran down my back, and my armpits felt as if fire ants were biting them. Hundreds of itchy bumps formed, then, hair sprouted, filling in and dampening until the stink of the locker room oozed out from them. I whimpered as I caught the scent. Looking up at Pops, I begged.

"Please! Don't do this! You gotta undo this! I'm not a Jock!"

Pops laughed, taking both my shoulders in his massive rough hands, and pushed me down onto a bench, taking my arms and forcing them up onto the bar. My pits were fully on display as he growled.

"Lift. Don't stop until I come back, or those pits and feet will be the least of your worries."

I believed him, and tried to pull the bar down, barely moving the weights. Pops facepalmed, moved to a backpack next to a mountainous young brute lifting what had to be the weight of a small car. He fished out a protein shake, pressed the nozzle to my lips, and forced me to guzzle a few mouthfuls, pulling it away as I heard my stomach gurgle.

I hiccuped, then burped, as my body seemed to warm, sweat forming, soaking down my shirt. Then, muscle began to swell under my skin, not huge, round bulk, but enough to look as if I'd been hitting the gym for several months, not days. When it settled, I must've gained 10 lbs, all of it hard muscle. When I pulled the bar down this time, it wasn't easy, but I wasn't lifted off the seat this time. Again and again I tested my new size, and Pops grinned. giving my thicker shoulder a punch.

"I'll make an athlete out of you yet. Like it or not, you're gonna be one of Pops's boys! No one mouth's off to pop, unless they've earned it here at my gym! got it!"

I wanted to be defiant, to insult him, or run, but the look in his eye told me if I so much as thought about leaving, I'd be waddling out of here, sideways through the door, looking like the Behemoth that Pops had taken the shake from! I gulped, looked down, and forced myself to lift. Maybe if Pops is happy, he'll at least tone down the absolute fog of stink that screams, "Big Dumb Jock" from a mile away!

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serawritesthings · 11 months

Text

CRAVE THE ROSE

summary: you were Arthur’s own slice of heaven in a world where it felt like everything he did brought him a step further to hell. pairing: arthur morgan x fem! reader tags: content 18+ minors dni, unprotected piv sex word count: 6.1k

a/n: hello, lovelies! I'm finally done with my first fic; I hope it's worth a read. Please let me know what you think; I would much appreciate it!♡

Most nights at Horseshoe Overlook were quiet, ignoring Uncle's snoring and the girl’s quiet gossiping. Often, you joined them, finding their conversations amusing. You discovered that Mary-Beth, Tilly, and Karen had a wild imagination and a wilder sense of humor.

Unfortunately, they decided you would be the object of their gossip lately. More so, you and Arthur. Your relationship appeared to be very interesting to them, and they weren’t shy of making it known as they teased you for the man’s apparent infatuation with you.

Because of that, you remain behind a tree by the horses, mulling. You had no interest in speaking to the girls tonight, scared they would bother you. You didn't wish to be the center of gossip instead of the one chitchatting.

Sitting alone for the first time in a while allowed your thoughts to take over. You worried for him immensly, just like you always did when it came to Arthur. It wasn’t like your concern came from nothing, finding that trouble always followed him.

More times than not, he came home bloodied and bruised, and sometimes he didn’t come home at all. It made you feel useless to only stay in camp and think of every what-if that could happen to the unpredictable man, but you couldn't help it.

There was a lingering feeling of certainty when you met Arthur. You knew you were the same - you bruise a little easier than most, though in different places. The hurt manifested somewhere far inside of him, a place where his walls were so high you weren’t sure even he could put a crack in it. But something about him wormed itself into your heart and manifested the passage that led to your deepest thoughts and feelings.

"Whatcha doin' out here, honey?" A voice strapped with roughness spoke out behind you, surprising you. You glanced at Arthur towering over you, granting him an exasperated stare, although your heart sang at the sight of him in one piece.

"I'm hiding." He raised his eyebrow, looking entertained, settling his hands on his belt.

"Now, what are you hidin' from?" A smirk appeared on his lips while he shook his head.

"The girls." A melancholy expression appeared on your face.

"Your hiding from… the girls?"

"Well, yes. It seems gossiping about us has become their favorite amusement." To speak about it made you scrunch your nose. You knew it was childish, but you were too irritated to care.

"I guess women never change, eh?" He studied you with a knowing smile while crouching down, touching your knee tenderly. You only scoffed at him.

"You gonna stay cooped up here like an angry little ball of fire all night?" He offered you his hand, snickering.

"Yes." Peering forward with sharp eyes, you avoided his hand.

Arthur chuckled as he gently placed his hand under your chin, gazing into your eyes. Your pout made him frown, and swiftly he tossed you over his shoulder and began walking.

"I ain't lettin’ you linger out here all night. " You gasped, eyes facing the ground, feeling his shoulder jab into your stomach with every step.

"Now, just what do you think you're doing?!" A screech escaped you while Arthur only laughed, giving your rear a playful slap.

"They'll see us!"

"They're drunk and asleep; calm your horse's missy."

Your eyes grew small at his comment, and you tried thinking of a way to make him release you. Lifting your hands, you grabbed the back of his pants, trying to push them down his hips. He chuckled at you and kept walking.

"Now, what do you think you're doin´?" He readjusted your squirming frame against his broad shoulder.

"It's okay, though; I like you a little feisty."

"Oh, I'll show you feisty." You continued trying to push his pants down further.

You kept bickering on the path to Arthur's tent. He was correct; there wasn’t a single person awake. You could see the smug smirk on his face when he realized he was right, but he focused on keeping his pants up, which proved futile. What a sight you two were.

He chuckled as he placed you on his bed, standing tall over your small frame. Amid your anger, now forgotten after your lighthearted bickering, you had failed to remember how much you missed him. Arthur had been away for a long time, leaving you to worry about him constantly. It made you feel useless, never knowing where or what he was doing. But he was here now, which instantly lifted your spirits.

Raising the corners of your mouth into a soft smile, you looked up at him through your lashes, grabbing his gun belt and bringing him closer to you till you felt the chilly surface of his buckle against your cheek. Putting your arms around his waist, you rested your cheek against his middle and sighed.

"Are ya done trying to pull my pants down now?" Arthur only raised his eyebrow, wondering where the feisty girl went.

"Mm." The fabric of his jeans silenced your voice as you relished in what was solely Arthur.

"I missed you so much." Your tone suddenly wavered, and you wrapped your arms tighter around him. It felt like he would disappear from you.

Feeling his coarse hand land softly on your head, he ran his fingers through your hair that was soft under his palms. Arthur wasn't good at feelings and often found himself tongue-tied when you spoke to him like this. His heart churned at your sudden display of emotions.

He missed you more than you could possibly know and spent most of the chilly nights in the wilderness, missing your soft voice and warm hands he had grown accustomed to. Before you, it didn’t matter where he was since his home was where he put his bedroll.

Now, though, his home was in your warm embrace. The ghost of your eyes tormented his every move, prodding him to return to you so the glimpses he thought he caught of you would become a reality.

How well you knew your Arthur. He was always quick with words but never with you. When you started paying attention to one another, dragging the words out of him required much effort. Stubborn as a mule, he was.

"Ah, I missed ya too, honey." His voice grew rough as he looked down at you. A warm feeling coursed through you at his words, pressing your cheek further against the cloth of his jeans, face illuminated by the lamp on the worn bedside table. The light bounced off the closed tent, creating a warm atmosphere.

Keeping close to Arthur, you looked up at him and staring back at you was a man with warm, soft-blue eyes and tousled honey-blond hair escaping his hat, looking slightly longer since you last saw him. Your chest tightened at the look he gave you, making you feel like the most precious thing he had ever seen.

Now, standing between one of your legs, you felt small beneath his tall frame. He felt many things watching you beneath him, face resting on the side of his hips, face too close to his guns for his liking, but he didn't move away. He felt all his limbs grow heavier when he observed you, finding only you to have this effect on him.

Your palms grazed the guns at his sides, being careful when lifting them from the holsters. They were heavier than you expected, not familiar with holding the weighty metal of a gun. The coarse leather of his gloves grasped your hands and lifted them with you, putting them on the bedside table.

A shrill ran through you, watching him grab them. He looked intimating, handling them like second nature compared to your unsure hands. It reminded you of the kind of man he was, or rather the man he had to be.

He could tell you felt wary; a familiar feeling of protectiveness he always directed towards you surging through him. You smiled slightly and stared at him through your lashes, palm stroking his thigh gently. He could feel himself melt at your behavior, realizing you were teasing him; testing the waters.

Most times, being intimate together went about the same way as you were inexperienced, and Arthur not wanting to make you uncomfortable. But he could feel the air had changed, making him stiff with intrigue and curiosity.

The tension in the tent was searing as you unbuckled his belt, letting it fall to the floor with a heavy thud. You were used to him taking control, but you felt unusually bold in his presence this night. Suddenly, Arthur suddenly lifted you to stand on the bed, making you tower over him as a breathless laugh left you.

Putting both of your hands on his stubby cheeks, he wrapped his arms around your middle, breathing in your sweet scent as he pulled you closer. Your stomach churned at having him this close, feeling his warm breath fan over you, making your nipples stiffen against the closeness of his mouth.

Slowly, he enclosed his mouth around your nipple, covered by the fabric of your blouse–being this close it proved hard for him not to. You closed your eyes at the sudden feeling, thumbs gently stroking the scruff of his beard as he grazed his tongue over your clothed bosom wantonly.

You lifted your trembling leg to rest at his side, his arm immediately coming to rest on your backside, bringing you closer to him. He caressed you tenderly as you felt him press his tongue over your thin blouse, making you moan slightly under your breath.

Opening your eyes, you looked down at him, the sight more erotic than anything you have ever seen. He held your gaze through hazy eyes, his reddening lips glistening slightly with saliva, resting on the now wet patch on your shirt. You lifted your hands, grabbed ahold of the hat almost falling off his head, and dropped it to the ground.

Running your fingers through his tousled hair, you brushed the wild pieces behind his ear, unkempt by his hat. He rumbled appreciatively at your action and you felt the rough leather from his gloves sneaking under your shirt that was folded into your skirt, finally touching your skin.

You were always so soft, and most of the time, he felt undeserving to touch something so perfect with his rough, unlawful hands, roughened by the hardship his life had brought onto him. Never should anyone who has done such malicious things put their hands on you–yet here he was, soiling you.

Your soft skin felt heavenly under his rugged palm as if delicate hands sculpted it with adoration so stout there couldn’t be a more beautiful creation than the one standing before him. He felt shameful but didn't have the strength to pull away; he never did. It felt too good to touch you, almost bordering on torture, the way he kept crawling after you like a starved man never getting enough.

Arthur tightened his grip on you, paying attention to your other side with his mouth, moving slowly as your breath hitch. You let your head fall over him, resting your cheek on the top of his head that you now cradled, enjoying the moment while wishing you could be in his arms forever.

Running your hands over his broad shoulders, you suddenly felt something wet touch your fingers. You perked up, looking at your hands. Covering your fingertips was a dark red substance. It was sticky like it had been there for a while.

"Arthur." You murmured, a light worry detectable in your voice. He didn't answer you, instead grabbing your thighs and hoisting you up his waist, burying his head in your chest. You wanted to giggle at him and probably would have if concern didn't seep into your mind.

"Arthur" Your voice was low, this time sounding more collected.

"It ain't my blood, darlin’," he mumbled, voice muffled by the fabric. You felt yourself relax, content no one had hurt him, but it left you wondering whose blood it was. "Don't you worry your pretty little head bout that," he said, like he could read your mind.

Arthur sat on the bed and it creaked under his weight, keeping you on his lap with your legs at either side of his thick thighs. He pushed your hesitant hips snugly against his, letting out a hum of appreciation, finally feeling your weight where he wanted you most.

Lifting his head from your chest, he gave you a look-over, and what a sight you were. Blush covered your cheeks as you looked at him with blissful but still worrisome eyes, a slight pink shade running down your neck into the cleavage of your blouse.

You brought your face close to his, feeling the roughness of his beard scrape against your cheeks as you leaned in, the worrying thoughts long gone as you felt his large hands slither into your skirt, kneading the soft flesh harshly under his palm.

You squeaked quietly, surprised by the sudden contact, your lips pausing, barely touching as you breathed in each other's air as your head spun in anticipation. The feeling of Arthur's warm hands so close to your exposed core made heat form in your lower belly and in your moment of bliss, you suddenly felt his lips on yours.

"Arthur." You whimpered against his mouth. Hearing his name from your mouth so pleadingly made the ache in his chest cramp at his heart, feeling the familiar warmth of pleasure spread. Amid his tongue massaging yours so sweetly contrasting the harshness of his hands, you lowered your hips softly.

The roughness of his jeans touching your center made a shockwave of rippling pleasure spread through you, making you choke out a mix between a moan and a cry. You lifted your chest slightly, leaning your head backward, making your hair fall in waves behind you.

Hugging Arthurs's head to your bosom, you felt his mouth on your breast once again. The feeling was too much, making your whole body tense as you tried to bring him closer. He hastily grabbed your blouse, dragging it out from the top of your skirt, and seeing he couldn't lift it over your head without unbuttoning it, he held the fabric in the middle, ripping the buttons quickly and exposing you to him. You wanted to complain, but feeling his mouth wrap around your now-bare nipple made you lose your train of thought.

They grew hard under the assault of his tongue; Arthur was sure he would’ve bitten them if he didn’t control himself. You were breathing frantically over him as his mouth moved against you, and he could hear how fast your heartbeat was.

He nuzzled the soft flesh, teeth grazing on the round bottoms of your breasts until he sucked on the peaks. You unknowingly motion your round hips in his lap, clearly getting worked up from his touch. His hand engulfed your hips, helping you rock back and forth on his lap.

The added pressure his hands brought made the rough material against your undergarments feel delicious as he moved his hips with yours, pushing you down every time you met his pelvis. The action was desperate, a silent plea for the bittersweet pleasure you sought within each other. His hands ran up your back, caressing the soft skin that shivered. Despite the chilly night, you were warm under his hands, calling for him to put his hands on you. You were beckoning him closer.

The moment was tender but filled with desperation that always seemed to linger around you. You ran your hands over Arthur's back, feeling the rough fabric of his worn-out shirt you knew so well. His broad shoulders bulged under your soft caresses as you could see his muscles tighten at your touch, his movements growing bolder as he once again placed his hands under your skirt, letting the fabric rest above your hips, exposing you to him. You felt him knead the warm flesh under his palms as he pushed you against him harder than before, pushing his crotch into yours, feeling the delicious warmth of your core against his bulge that strained against his pants. You could feel him under you, your face growing hot as his prominent member sat hard against you, pushing against its confinements.

"Oh," You could not help letting out a quiet moan as heat traveled through your body when you felt him. He stopped and looked up at you, leaving a string of spit between your breasts and his swollen lips. The look in his eyes made your breath hitch, his eyes hazy with a glint of warmth in them.

"Something wrong, honey?" His voice was low, almost sultry, and his hands softened against your bottom, no longer continuing his harsh treatment. The blush warmed your cheeks, realizing how exposed you were next to the fully dressed man. Having been lost in the moment, you hadn't noticed. But you did now. Arthur did, too, and praised the almighty; he didn't care if Colm O’Driscoll himself came and shot him right at this moment because he could die happy.

"No, I…" You tried to explain, but he seemed more focused on removing the ruined blouse from your arms, unable to help himself as he placed a few more kisses on the underside of your breasts. “I… uh…” The words were stuck in your throat, turning your brain into mush.

He took your hand, placing it on the lower side of his stomach, showing where he wanted your touch. You were timid, careful, and softly caressed the part over his waistline. You could tell he was growing impatient. His hands returned to your backside as he placed more kisses on your neck, slowly inching closer to your warmth while lifting you slightly, leaving room for your hand to travel further down. Cold fingers ran along the sides of your throbbing heat, teasing you and making you stiff with anticipation. Reaching your mouth, he placed his chapped lips on your soft ones, humming as he claimed you in the kiss. Thinking he would finally touch you, he suddenly lowered his hands and caressed your inner thigh, running his hands up and down. He then grabbed your hand, fitting it against his rigid member.

A relieved sigh left his body as he felt your small hand finally touch him. The relief only lasted so long before he felt the immense pleasure striking through his body at your soft caresses, hands leisurely moving up and down. They were unsure as they caressed him, but oh, they felt so good. Arthur felt his body go limp, almost like his muscles turned into heavy stones, as he rested his head in the crook of your neck.

You let out a breathless giggle as you grew more confident when you saw his desperation for your touch. Hugging his head to your chest with one hand embedded in his hair, the other continued to move against him. Slowly, you took one finger and stroked the tip that strained against his pants. A heavy groan left his throat when you touched the sensitive spot, although the feeling felt muted from the layers of clothes.

You looked down beside his head to unfasten the suspenders holding up his jeans. You let them hang over his shoulders as your hands unzipped his jeans, unbuttoning a few buttons on his union suit so you could wriggle your hand inside.

First, your fingers touched a patch of hair under his belly button that led down to his member, the muscles tensing in his stomach. You followed it down, feeling Arthur’s warm breath against your shoulder.

"Christ alive!" The words wormed their way from his throat, sounding strained. You had winded your nimble fingers into his pants, fingertips feeling over the ridge beneath his cock. The touch alone sent a white flash of pleasure through his whole body. Smiling sheepishly, you rubbed your thumb up against the frenulum of his member, coaxing harsh noises from the man.

His head lay limp on your shoulders as his now sweaty hair tickled your skin, your actions turning his brain into mush. Your hand leisurely pumps his cock, going as slow as he can take it as you feel something warm start sliding down the back of your hand.

Curiously, you tried to look between your tightly knit bodies, leaning slightly away from Arthur for a moment. Although you didn't get the chance to look before his arms wound around your waist, bringing you closer to his broad form yet again. He lifted his head like he had woken from a deep slumber, lids heavy as he spoke.

"What kind of spell do you have me under, woman?" He rolled his hips up to meet your hand as it descended at the base of his cock. You readjust on his lap, scooting back slightly to gain more leverage for moving your arm. Arthur's eyes shut tight; his brows furrowed as you brought your other hand to his cheek, caressing it lovingly with your thumb as you gazed at him with warm eyes.

Being this close made you see him more clearly: the slight sunburns on the tall places on his face from being out in the sun all day, the lines on his forehead permanent from his constant frowning, and the thin layer of dirt covering his skin from the endless hard work he put up with. Too focused on what you were doing, he didn’t notice your stare, but his eyes found yours already looking at him when your hand slowed down.

At that moment, his lust drowned in his love for you.

Sometimes, he found you looking at him like that, and it was safe to say it baffled him. The tenderness in your eyes made him tense, unsure. He wasn't used to your affection, but your every move was an act of pure fondness for him. Although it puzzled him, he craved your attention at him at all times and boasted at having such a woman at his hands. A woman no doubt many men surely dreamed of for the rest of their lives if they ever got the chance to lay their eyes on you.

He felt your hand release the grip on his member, letting its now red, swollen tip rest against his stomach. Nimbly, you unbuttoned the other buttons on his union suit, your other hand sneaking under the fabric to touch the revealed skin, caressing his chest slowly as you reached the last button.

Running your hands from his chest to his shoulders, you let the fabric fall on his arms as you stroked over the broad muscles of his thick arms, appreciating their size. He noted that your wandering hands had grown bolder and relished in your touch. You leaned into him, his arms tightening around you to help you closer as you scooted up in his lap so you could reach his neck with your lips.

You heard Arthur grunt as your exposed cunt made contact with his cock when you raised your hips slightly, dragging your wet folds to his tip, letting it rest there as your warm lips put nimble kisses on the sweaty skin under his jawline. His shaft twitched when the muscles in his stomach clenched, the tip dripping precum on his skin as he felt his sack tighten.

"Do you want to kill me?" Breathlessly he spoke to you. Smiling through your kisses, you relished the power you seemed to have over him. "Maybe." You giggled against his skin, continuing to place timid kisses along his neck and pretending to bite him with your teeth. He scoffed at your playfulness, grabbing your bottom and grinding you over his swollen head.

A startled moan left your wet lips, surprised by the sudden contact. The pleasure that shot through your body was sweet but laced with a sharpness that made you quiver in his grasp. It felt delicious; the anticipation of the movement filled every inch of you with deep shivers that racked through your already shaking body.

Your mouth was left gaping against his shoulder, your lingering kisses paused by Arthur pushing you against him in small motions so he could feel the delicious friction your swollen lips created against his rigid member.

"You want me to touch you, darlin'?" His gruff voice spoke. You mewled against him, all traces of the dominance you thought you had for a second go, and he didn't even have to try. It made you realize he only let you because he wanted to.

Calmly, his fingers eased toward your wetness that now almost seemed to drip down your thigh in complaint at being untouched for so long. Two of his fingers parted to stroke either side of your lips, almost throbbing as you clenched around nothing. The strokes continued, never touching you where you wanted him to. You were going crazy. How could he tease you so?

"Arthur." Your voice was quiet and begging, an undertone of wholehearted want seeping through. He hummed against you, lifting your head to place his lips on yours as his fingers finally disappeared beneath your wet folds, gliding toward your clit and resting there. He began drawing small circles that blur your vision as your eyes rolled back, letting out ungodly sounds muted against his lips. His lips continued to move against you, but when he noticed yours weren't, a low chuckle escaped him. Seeing you sitting on top of him with your blouse discarded and skirt lifted to reveal the tempting flesh to his eyes, as your face showing nothing but pure pleasure, drove him mad. The pads of his fingers are rough against your delicate parts, only adding to the bliss surging through your body. As he stroked you gently, your back arched as your hands frantically grabbed his arms. You feel your hands shake, your grip tight on his biceps as his two fingers sink into your hole. You gasped at being filled, clenching your walls tight around his fingers. The stretch burned, his fingers thicker than yours.

Sweet moans reach Arthur’s ears as he moves against your spongy walls, the squelching sound of him entering you filling the quietness of the night. Knuckle deep in you, he bends them expertly, causing your breath to hitch, making you spread your thighs wider for him as you grind down on his hand. His motions were rapid as he dove deep into your heat. Your thighs contracted as you felt your whole body tense, his arms moving underneath your touch.

“Oh, Arthur, please.” You spotted his warm eyes staring into yours when you turned your gaze up at him. Your eyes were pleading with him to take you, tears brimming at the intense feelings he filled you with. He knew what you wanted but had to ensure you were ready, knowing you would hurt otherwise.

“I know, honey, just a little more.” Arthur caressed your hair softly as his jaw clenched, sweat dripping down his forehead as his eyes were stuck on you. He felt hopeless when you looked at him like this. You could get him to do whatever you wanted when looking at him like that; hell, Arthur would even kill for you if you asked. He was wet with your slick, his fingers jamming inside you as you lifted your legs, trying to escape his assault. The sudden change of pace made the pleasure unbearable. Not a single sound left your mouth as your eyebrows furrowed and your mouth hung open. He grabbed your hips, bringing you down against his fingers so you couldn’t escape.

Arthur hoisted you up, fingers leaving your dripping heat as he placed you over his throbbing head. Feeling your wetness wrap around him made his vision blur, ears ringing from the blood that rushed from his head. You leaned back, placing your hands on his knees as his hands found your hips. You sank slowly, watching his member disappear between your folds. The unison makes your heart swell, the thought of your body becoming one running through you like warm whisky, setting your blood afire.

Arthur’s breathing was heavy, his hands shaking slightly from the intenseness of the moment. Every movement was a silent plea for the moment never to end, wanting to stay connected for all eternity in each other’s embrace. The world disappeared around you, becoming a blur. The only thing you saw was each other as you moved over him, feeling him lift you to the top to lower you so you could hug him warmly. Your walls clamped down on him, his mushroom head prodding deep inside your spongy walls, eliciting whines from your open mouth. Arthur was used to being quiet, but you were struggling, terrified someone would hear. You wouldn’t be able to stand the humiliation if you were.

“Come here, darlin’.” He placed his brawny arms under your thighs, his member leaving you as he stood up and laid your back gently on the bed, his hand under your head. Always so careful. Your arms reached for him, seeking his solace and safe embrace as he returned to you, putting his weight on you as close as he could without hurting you. He entered you again as his head rested in the crevice of your neck, panting. He stuffed you full, fuller than you’ve ever been. Your cunt stretched obscenely around him, lips sealing around his cock with a snug, velvet grasp. He set the pace this time. His muscular frame was going slow, but his strokes were hard; your body was being pushed up the bed from the harshness of his thrusts. He brought you deeper into the mattress whenever you felt him dive back inside. Your legs found their way around his waist, bringing him closer to you. Arthur loves how you cling to him, helping you by holding you close as he prods you deeper. He takes your hand, bringing it to your chest and placing it between your breasts as he murmurs something in your skin. You’re too blissed out to hear what as his voice melts like honey at the base of your neck.

“Oh god!” You cry out between his thrusts, moonlight seeping through the folds of the tent and splashing his skin. His palms tremble against you from the effort. He cooed at your noises, shushing you by capturing your lips with his. You had messed up his hair in your blissful frenzy, and his eyes were glossy with lust. His hands ran down the side of your body that arched underneath him, grabbing your thigh and pushing the plush skin up to rest beside you so he could bury the whole cock inside you. You almost felt him in your guts as he prodded against your flesh, leaving you to mumble nonsense into his mouth between the gasps that escaped you from the force of his thrusts. The slide of his length against the silky, slick clench of your cunt is nothing less than ambrosial.

Arthur breathes heavily between clenched teeth as you tighten around him. He slowed his pace to draw himself almost entirely out of you before filling you again with a languid thrust. The coil inside him was tightening, threatening to snap. He was holding you so close now, shielding you from the world as you lay underneath him, eyes glazed with a faraway look. Each caress from his hand said the words his sex-addled mind couldn’t make his mouth form.

I love you

He wrapped his arm under your waist, supporting your arching body, pistoning you now with brutal efficiency. Still, affection lingered in everything he did. He never gripped you too hard as his rough hands remained gentle. For you. Only for you. His hands slipped down the planes of your stomach to apply gentle pressure to the hooded bundle of nerves, sending a shock through you like a burst of electricity. Whatever words you tried to speak came out as little more than a garbled cry as he teased furious circles over your still swollen clit, arms tight against his neck.

“Please.” Lust-filled sounds left you as you begged. You didn’t know what for, his assault leaving your thoughts in shambles. He doubted there was a more beautiful sight than the woman he loved unraveling under the force of his thrusts. Your walls clenched around him, contracting as you sucked him more profoundly into your cunt.

“I love you!” You cried into his ear; Arthur’s eyes shut tight as his hips spluttered, pumping deeper inside you, noises he let out erupting from his lips in a sound that could only be likened to a primal whine. With a final uneven snap of his hips, the coil inside him snapped, and his release spilled inside you. His forehead rested between your shoulder blades as he trembled, your hands resting in his hair lovingly amidst the tremors running through your body. Arthur’s hips snapped up into you one last time, pushing up into you as far as possible to continue feeling the warmth and tightness of your cunt. His cum spurted out, coating your walls and escaping your entrance that he was stuffing with his cock. He gripped your thighs, moving his hips languidly, basking in the sharp pleasure running through him as his vision faded.

You could feel him relaxing in your grasp, heavy breathing leaving him as he gently kissed your trembling skin. You hummed over him at his touch, a pleasureful little sound that, despite being wholly spent, had him wondering if he could muster up the energy to retake you as his head lifted to claim your lips, tongue flickering lazily out to tangle with your own. Arthur grabbed your thighs that were wound tightly around his waist as he scooted down the bed, pressing them to flush against the mattress. He spread you wide, your body covered in sweat and cum, exposed before his eyes as he wasted no time putting his mouth on your puffy cunt. His tongue was warm as he entangled it in your wetness. Your hands tried to grip your hair, sheets, and headboard to find stability until they rested in Arthur’s hair. He could feel you pull on his roots, the feeling making him groan against you. The sound created vibrations against your sensitive clit. It felt like his mouth was eating you whole as he nuzzled as close as he could, sucking ferociously on your tender flesh. His tongue entered you, making you dizzy as blood buzzed in your ears. You looked down at him, breath hitching as you found his hazy eyes already on yours. It felt sinful to keep eye contact with him as he performed such a sensual act on you, but his admiring eyes left you searing with pleasure. You couldn’t look away, not yet. You felt him wind his arms under your thighs as he gripped your inner thighs, sitting up so he was resting on his heels.

“Arthur!” You exclaimed at the sudden motion. Your head rested on the bed as Arthur lifted you off it, his arms wrapped around your stomach, hugging you tightly against him as he buried his head further into your cunt. The air left you from his actions, your legs hitting his back to escape the frenetic torture he put you through. Wet noises filled the tent, Arthur’s dark eyes gazing down at you. You looked sinful, he thought. Usually so innocent, but at this moment, with your hair spread out on the messy sheets, a pink flush covering your cheeks, and dazed eyes staring up at him, you looked like he had corrupted you and filled every inch of you with pure ecstasy. He lifted his mouth from you, the lower part of his face glistening wet as his fingers found your clit. They stroked you gently as he hummed at your quiet mewls.

“Gettin’ close, honey?” Arthur cooed as you stared up at him with glistening eyes, brows furrowed in pleasure. Your expression told him enough, so he lowered his head again and extended his tongue inside you, massaging your walls. It felt good, so good that high-pitched whines started leaving you. His one hand found your mouth, muffling the sounds. Your hips began twitching, moving against his mouth as you struggled between putting distance from his lips and pulling him closer. His fingers were relentless, rubbing you faster to where you heard ringing in your ears from the searing pleasure you felt coursing through you. The fire pooling low in your abdomen started spreading, leaving a burning trail as it flowed through your every vein. Your head rolled back against the sheets, mouth open wide, but no noise left you as hot tears fell from your eyes. The world slowed down, your orgasm shattering your body. Rippling through you, it made you tense up, your walls pulsing around Arthur’s tongue as he slowly massaged your insides, intensifying your orgasm. Your hips started jerking against him, his arm holding you still as he hummed against you while observing you underneath him.

The world before you was blurred when your eyes slowly opened, the ringing now faint as you felt Arthur kiss the inside of your thigh, his hand rubbing your stomach soothingly. He lowered you onto the bed as your eyes gained focus. He could feel you gaze at him as he lifted you to lay your head on the pillow, caressing your cheeks. It was quiet; the only thing cutting through the air was your frantic breathing, both of you trying to catch your breath. Your eyes locked, a silent understanding between you as your trembling hand brushed his sweaty strands behind his ears.

“I love you,” He mumbled against your skin, eyes peering up at you. There was a look in his eyes you hadn’t seen before, and it took a few seconds for you to recognize it. Remorse. “But I don’t deserve you.” He sounded defeated, eyes staring absentmindedly like he was off somewhere else. It was a rarity for him to be this honest with you, but his words rang true. He didn’t deserve you; he knew it, you knew it, and everyone around you knew it. But he had you, body and soul. He had every part of you, even the parts you wanted to shield from both him and the world. His arms wrapped around you, covering you in his safe embrace, and your heart ached inside you when gazing at the man in front of you.

Before you could speak, he placed his lips against yours. There wasn’t much to be said anymore, your hearts speaking the words your lips couldn’t utter.

#arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #red dead redemption smut #red dead redemption 2 smut #red dead redemption imagine #red dead redemption 2 imagine #arthur morgan imagine #smut

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kkrymiii · 16 days

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"Seriously serious"

G!p stucoVPminjeong x Troublemaker fem reader

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

MDNI! (Not proofread)

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

CW: smut, G!p, Degrading, possesive, Swears, public sex, aggressive pulling idk, manhandling, Reader being a menace & MINJEONG BEING IN THE SCHOOL BAND

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

It was just an ordinary day, Well for y/n it is. Causing problems, pranks, disrupting class lessons, skipping class, and just basically being troublesome.

So as Y/N was running for her life in the halls after pranking some of her friends, when she was looking behind her laughing her ass off looking at her friends chasing her suddenly as she turned around she saw Kim minjeong, one and only Student council vice president Kim minjeong.

As Y/N was gonna go pass minjeong suddenly minjeong grabbed Y/N she caught her off guard, it made Y/N almost fall to the floor but minjeong grabbed her tightly by the arm.

"Now miss L/N what do you think your doing now?" Minjeong said staring at Y/N with fire in here eyes.

"Uhh... Ah... Miss stuco vp well as you see I'm running?... Hehe?.." Y/N said awkwardly smiling as she gulped.

Minjeong shooting darts through her eyes on Y/N due to the troubles she has cause but maintained her cool composure as stuco vp.

"Well It seems like because of this ruckus that you have caused I'll be needing your help setting up the decorations for the upcoming sports festival. This will be your consequence for the week." Minjeong said loosening her grip on Kurayamis arm, as Kurayami just looked at minjeong in the eyes, sweating knowing what this meant......

Y/N just accepted her fate, mumbling the word "seriously" as she heard the punishment.

"Seriously!! Do I seriously need to do this?!" Y/N complained carrying 3 heavy boxes trying to see where minjeong is as she follows her.

"Seriously serious miss L/N. If you just would've had listened to what I said maybe you wouldn't be breaking your bones sweating the whole time this week."Minjeong replied giggling at the sight of Kurayami struggling...

A good 7 minutes of more walking Kurayami then placed the boxes on the floor of the stage in the auditorium. Y/N sat at the floor panting as she leaned on a close by wall.

"Mhm... This isn't the first time I've seen Y/N be so tired" Minjeong commented giggling as she sat by Y/N on the floor...

"Ah...you gonna practice today miss vp?" I muttered quietly as I looked at the pretty girl beside me... My girlfriend....

"Indeed..." Minjeong replied as she stared back at Y/N with a soft smile

"Seriously why do you always choose my punishments as me being your personal assistant for the week." I replied back frustrated as my arms hurt

"Well it's so that I could monitor my girlfriend... Is that a crime now?" Minjeong replied giggling as she squeezed one of Y/N's cheek finding her adorable.

"Seriously is this the cold and scary stuco vp that everyone says?... I wonder what they'll think if they find out your actually like this." I replied cringing as she squeezed my cheek.

"Well I'm not like this only with you i also act like this with my friends. It's just that I don't like students who are fake." Minjeong replied as she held Kurayamis hand gently as she monitored her band mates arranging the set for the practice. As they held hands as the time passes as they both zone out together as they watch the students arrange the stage...

"Alright. Well you should go and practice I'll watch" I said as I pat her back. As minjeong smiled to me as she stood up and walked to the stage getting her guitar and setting it up as she talked to her band mates about the song....

As Y/N watched them practice sitting on the floor backstage watching them, she ofcourse eventually got bored. Zoning out most of the time or getting distracted with other things she noticed.... As time goes by she decided to get up and leave the auditorium, I mean she's the school troublemaker after all she doesn't care if minjeong scolds her.

As she sneakily managed to get out of the auditorium, walking throughout the halls acting chill as she found her way back to the cafeteria finding her friends.

After 2 Hours the bands practice was finally done, as minjeong went back stage hurriedly finding Y/N but as she kept looking she could not find her, she sighed loudly furiously leaving the auditorium finding Y/N in the campus.

Minjeong who was storming into every other room furiously as the other students stared at her, scared when they saw her... And clueless Y/N who was in the cooking club having fun and cooking donuts with her dumbass, And for minjeong who basically just searched the whole school went downstairs as she smelled the smell of donuts coming from the cooking club, Y/N is apart of the cooking club for the reason she wanted to burn the whole school or smth... But as minjeong went down to the cooking club as expected Y/N was there cooking, feeding her friends, laughing, having fun... But in minjeongs eyes in that moment. It was flirting...

"Excuse me miss L/N you have some duties that you have not finished yet, and you decided to sneak out of it?" Minjeong said barging in the room grabbing Y/N's wrist

Y/N who froze in her place staring at minjeong as her friends just backed up betraying Y/N hehehe, Minjeong then seeing that Y/N didn't want to respond then just drags her out of the room dragging her in the halls somewhere.

"Yah! Kim minjeong are you crazy!?" I scolded trying to get her grip of me but she won't budge, as she ignores my words and leads me to the student council room, Locking the door and closing the blinds.

"I am Fucking crazy Y/N... Are you?" Minjeong said as she held on Y/N's tie and her other hand on Y/N' waist, pushing her as Y/N bumped into the table having no choice but to sit on it.

"Wh-what.. seriously what's with you again.. just because I sneaked out?!" I scolded trying to push her off but her grip was hard asf...

"Sneak out? Sneaked out to flirt with your other friends now?" Minjeong said furiously as Y/N just stared at her confused "what the fuck are you saying?!" Y/N replied.

"Can you just be a Fucking good girl for once?" Minjeong frustrated as she loosened Y/N's tie then takes it off her swiftly, grabbing both of Y/N's wrist as she tied them together with Her tie.

"What the fuck?!" I said fighting back but she placed her whole weight on me which made me have a hard time.

"Shut the fuck up and be good for once okay baby?!" She cooed but eyes still filled with fire as she grabbed Y/N's tied wrists leading her to the couch as the threw her onto the floor making her kneel as minjeong sat on the couch.

"Fuck" was all Y/N could mutter out of her mouth as she saw minjeongs huge buldge in her pants. Minjeong then gripped Y/N's hair pulling it and making her look up at her.

"Shut up okay slut?" Minjeong grinned as her other hand unzipped her pants and lowering her boxer revealing her HUGE cock. She then started jerking her cock abit to tease you, grinning at your face, and as she was satisfied she finally placed her cock in your mouth.

"Be a Fucking good girl for once, my slut.." she moaned out as her cock felt so good around your mouth. Minjeong kept on holding onto your head as she fucked your mouth hard using you like a flesh light. Your eyes rolling to the back of your head as her cock felt good in your mouth, sucking and taking her like a good girl as she fucked your mouth hard...

Minjeong who kept saying degrading words to you as you took her.. and eventually minjeong was about to release. "Fuck... Fuck.. ah- I'm coming and you'll take it like a Fucking.. good girl.." she said whimpering as she held onto your head Fucking your mouth as she cummed in your mouth, minjeong slowly thrusting now as she rides out her climax, as you swallow it all licking her tip with your tongue smoothly making her groan out due to the feeling gripping harder on your hair.

As minjeong releases her cum she then looked at your for a good minute before grinning quickly taking out her cock out of your mouth creating a 'pop' sound, as she grabbed your chin making you look up at her seeing your disheveled state your mouth having liquids around it as she pulled you up roughly kissing you putting her tongue tasting herself. As she makes you sit on her lap and proceeds to make out with you, you two moaning out loud as your tongue dances together, and her hands roaming around you massaging your curves, breast, hips over your clothes as her hands move to your thighs drawing circles on it teasing you. As you tremble in the feeling moaning in your kisses as minjeong then unzips your skirt taking it off you as she broke the kiss and stared at your beautiful face before smirking....

Fuck her smirk is so attractive... You thought to yourself...

As she then grabs you by the waits manhandling you placing you on all fours on the couch as she kneels behind you smacking your ass, making you whimper and pant a lot as she giggles at your reactions... Squeezing massaging your ass was the best. She then reached your neck giving kisses from behind being gentle, as your breath getting heavier as you whimper as you feel her hand playing with your panties waistband as she slowly pulls it down taking off your panties, as she distracts you by kissing your neck from behind all over. She finally pulled back and stares at your beautiful ass as she touches it teasing you, as you feel so embarrassed while releasing your whimpers. Her cock already hard from before as she takes out a condom from her pocket and opens it placing it on her cock...

"fuck I want to feel you raw so much baby...but we have responsibilities don't we darling?" Minjeong mutterd a smirk clearly heard in her voice as she stared at your ass liking the view as you moan in response.... she holds her cock Infront of your entrance as she then holds onto your waist and then she smacks herself in you going in your rough making you moan out loud as soon as she goes in you making you see stars. She fucks into you hard not giving any mercy to you as she giggles seeing you so weak.. then suddenly you feel her hands playing with your clit also making you go crazy releasing loud moans from your mouth, her long fingers, her skilled fingers playing with your clit while she fucked you with her cock is insane, is what you thought to yourself as you release loud moans every thrust she gives to you.

"ah fuck baby you feel so good you know?... I like it so much when your my slut." Minjeong says slamming into you using you like her own fuck toy enjoying it so much... "Ah min- I'm.. in coming please!" You moaned out as you felt your climax coming "do it slut. Cum on me" her deep voice said making you moan out loud as you felt yourself releasing your load on her cock...

Minjeong who also moaned out loud as she came also... She pulled out as she looked at your beautiful ass.... She then took off the condom around her cock seeing it so messy she then just threw it on the table as she grabbed you by the waist manhandling you making you lay on your back on the couch as she leaned into you giving you kisses all around your face and neck, as you panted and whimpered hard carresing her head.

"mhm darling... You should get dressed. We have things to attend to... We're still in school" minjeong said as she sucked hickeys onto your neck and giving love bites as she pulled out and fixed your hair looking at your beautiful face even tho your so messed up right now.

Let's just say after that great experience, you two fixed yourself's cleaning everything up and leaving the room going different ways... And continued the school day.

-UGH omg this is my first one guys be nice😒 hehe but if there's any mistakes in sorryryyxys😶 I literally did this so fast I was just writing the smut part while listening to my playlist and my hands started typing so I'm sorry if I made any mistakes. ik this ain't good too SHAHAH

#Mjk☆Shish #Kkrymiii #Minjeong smut #kim minjeong smut #aespa smut #aespa #aespa imagines #aespa scenarios #minjeong imagines #smut #kpop #kpop girl group smut #g!p aespa #g!p minjeong #winter #aespa winter #g!p #kpop smut #girl group smut

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ynbabe · 6 months

Text

Fake texts au- pt.8 bffs with the rookies+ The Hangover

Lando being Lando with .jpg and Max and Charles are now involuntary babysitters

| Masterlist |

lando.jpg

liked by 321,023 users

Tagged: @/alex_albon @/arthur_leclerc @/logansargeant @/oscarpiastri @/its_y/n_love

lando.jpg "we will never drink again" just look at em lie

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landonorris i dont even know how y/n is alive rn

logansargeant fr I don't even remember getting back to the horel its_y/n_love I DRAK TEQUILA FOR YOUR UNGRAEEFUL ASS SMH arthur_leclerc WHY AM I IN A SHOPING CAT??? oscarpiastri why are we sleeping on the road?

its_y/n_love damn slide 5 logsn stole my bikch 😥

oscarpiastri more importantly why am i little spoon? hello? logansargeant cause I'm built diffrnt 😤

maxverstappen Never get them near alcohol. ever again.

charlesleclerc atleast you didn't have to CLIMB UP A BUILDING TO GET ARTHUR AND LOGAN OKAY maxverstappen THATS BECAUSE Y/N AND OSCAR KEPT RUNNING ONTO THE ROAD!!

alex_albon ... why am i crying im slide 4

oscarpiastri cause you weer flirting witn lily and she told you shee had a bf alex_albon understandable

username omg not them drunk answering in the comments 😭

username ong what did they drink ?!?!?1 username tequila apparently username girl ain't no tequila doin all that

username WE FINALLY FOUND HER GUYS

username lando.jpg coming in clutch 💪 username not her endangering the driver's life by sleeping on the road and pushing arthur in a shopping cart 🙄 username fr like this isn't funny they should stop being friends with her look what Max and Charles said username can yall leave the poor girl alone! they're all adults it was their friends first point ofc they're gonna party ion see yall saying shit abt max and his redbull parties 🤨

After your wild night, it was Oscar who came through first, groaning at the awkward position he was sleeping in, his neck sore with a horribly tough and warm pillow under it. He tried shoving it off but was only met with soft groans and a 'fucking stop', well that was enough to wake up the Aussie.

He turned around to be face-to-face with his childhood best friend, he let out a small yelp and pushed himself off the small sofa they were sharing, waking up the others.

"Oh my god, please shut up," came the hoarse voice of his friend Y/n, from the other side of the bed, on which Alex was the only one sleeping, his phone still on Facetime with his girlfriend, Lily.

As Y/n began pulling herself up, a deep Monganesque voice protested, "Y/n, stop moving," making the young woman's eyes widen as she pulled her hand away from the shirtless f2 driver's chest.

"Why aren't you wearing your shirt?" She asked looking at the boy still lying down on the floor, head clutched in his hands, "actually, Albon, why don't you have your shirt either?" she asked pulling herself up and lending her hand to the struggling boy next to her.

"I can answer that," came a woman's garbled voice through Alex's phone making him jump up to grab it, "Arthur fell off the bed onto you and when you pushed him off he used his shirt as a pillow," 'oh, that's why my ribs hurt' the younger woman thought, throwing a look at her friend, "and Alex was 'literally on fire and going to kill whoever messed with the AC'" she said with air quotes, making her boyfriend turn red.

"Thanks, Lily, I'll call you later, love you." he spoke and cut the call, "Remind me to never ever drink with the four of you again."

"Oscar, you kick in your sleep," Logan complained as he sat up, exploring all the black and blue bruises on his body, "why do we look like we were in a fight club?" he asked out loud making the others look at themselves.

Oscar had a few scratches on his knees and arms, Arthur had bruises and scratches littered all across his palms and hands and a nasty hand-sized bruise on his back, Y/n had a swollen nose, with a deep-ish cut along her eyebrow, the only unscathed on was Alex.

They all got dressed not bothering to change, knowing whose room they were in and walked to the private buffet that had been set up for the driver staying in the hotel, courtesy of Paris Hilton's soft spot for Lando.

As soon as they walked in, they were greeted by Lando, smiling and laughing as he recorded with his phone.

"Merde, I'm going to die, shut the lights," the youngest Leclerc said as he threw himself on the chair, closest to him, letting his head fall back. Y/n was next to accept the defeat of being conscious, sitting and immediately letting herself slump over her head smacking the wooden table with a loud thud, the woman would have been hurt if Logan hadn't moved his hand under her face, letting it bear the brunt of the impact. The blonde wasn't in any better shape, throwing one of the table napkins on his face to block out all light and noise. Oscar was the last to sit, simply clutching his head in his hands, almost pulling out his hair, at the massive headache he had.

Soon after, the unwilling babysitters followed, scowling at the sight of the supposed adults who were in no condition to be awake.

"All four of you, delete my number from your phone," the Dutchman spoke as he sat down next to his British friend, "eighty-two calls of all of you singing Barbie girl at 2 IN THE MORNING," he yelled slightly making the four whine.

"Please for the love of god shut up," the Aussie spoke up surprising the three sober men.

"Arthur mate, what did you all drink?" his brother asked laughing.

"Last I remember were the shots," he answered in broken French and English.

"So you don't remember when you all ran out of the club and went to Costco?" Lando spoke with a smirk, "And Y/n pushed Arthur around in the parking lot in the shopping carts,"

"What?" the pair asked, the girl sitting up, letting the blonde take back his hand.

"Oh, that is not even the worst part," Charles continued, "You and Oscar stole traffic cones, put them over your head and began tackling each other, and slept on the road," he chuckled making the duo look at each other with wide eyes.

"Oh and let's not forget when Logan and Arthur climbed up a building," he said knudging the brunette next to him. The two in question looked sheepishly at the older men and back onto the table.

"I am never going to drink, ever again," Y/n groaned as she tried to keep her eyes open.

"Yeah right, let's see you in Vegas," The youngest Leclerc sniped, making the girl throw the napkin of Logan's face on Arthur.

"Hey, guys," Lando called out bringing everyone's attention to him, the six waited as Lando's eyes widened and widened, "WHY IS THERE A TWENTY THOUSAND DOLLAR CHARGE ON OSCAR'S COMPANY CARD?!"

oof this one was long af 😭 but I hope yall like how chaotic the boys get when they're with Y/n, cause we menaces frfr.

Taglist: @dark-night-sky-99 @cashtons-wife @i-wish-this-was-me @thehufflepuffavenger1

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myfamilycrestisthedemonofdeath · 5 days

Text

Eh, fuck it, here's my first actual shit written

Gimme a reader who is normally taciturn snapping and becoming spitfire.

Imagine you and 141 out for drinks at a dive bar, drinking enough liquor to drown your memories of harrowing situations away. Price and Ghost just chilling in the corner of the bar, drinking while keeping their eyes on the surroundings; Price keeping an eye on Johnny and Kyle who are becoming rowdy by the billiards table, and Simon is just quietly nursing a drink while watching everything else. You're a few stools away, wanting to drink alone, until some younger slob sits next to you, ignoring the irritated glance you threw his way and the prickly atmosphere you exude. Tries the usual schtick of getting you to go with him, promising good times and such. The 141 men immediately notice and are casually on standby to help, until you finally snap at the fucker who is trying to give you his number and address.

"If you're gonna give me an address, I'd rather take your dad's so that way I can go fuck him and give him a son who he will actually love, enough to teach little boys like you what the fuck manners are. And if you have a mom, I'll fuck her too", you say bluntly but loudly.

If you were paying attention on anything else but the guy, you'd hear Johnny and Kyle immediately cackling in surprised delight. Price, on the other hand, actually snorts his drink and sputter, spitting some of it out. Simon's face is of course hidden, hiding his grin but his eyes crease to show it, eyebrows raised to high heavens.

"If you're looking to just get your dick wet, I suggest you go cry on it, or fuck off and bother someone else", you continue, not allowing the guy to talk. "I'm not in the mood to babysit you asshole, so get off my face before I make you eat this bar", you growl out.

The poor fool is turning red, mouth opening and closing to get a word in, but before he could, you hear Kyle speak up, now beside you with a shit-eating grin, putting his hand by your shoulder and facing the guy.

"Listen, mate, she's not interested. You better scramble off before she grabs your balls and rips it off", he says, joy evident in his voice.

"Aye, Ah've see 'er do it, honest ta' God", Johnny follows up, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes, still somewhat cackling.

The appearance of the two big, burly men to your side seems to finally scare the guy off, profusely apologizing to them before running off. You get irritated, as it seems the boy really didn't respect you and only backed off because of the presence of other men.

"The both of you, fuck off too. I can handle myself", you tell them testily.

Kyle lets go of your shoulder, backing away while shaking his head with his hands up. "You handled it perfectly, but was just a bit worried he'd keep harrassing you regardless".

"Tha' was hot, bonnie. Never thought ya got the fire in ya'", Johnny quips. "Ah know ya ken handle yourself, so we'll leave ya to it", he adds, dragging Kyle with him back to the billiards table, both laughing.

You threw the both of them a withering look, and notice Simon helping John by giving him more napkins, John wiping his beard while coughing slightly. Both of them look at you and nod, traces of laughter and surprise on their face as you glower back at them before going back to your drink.

All four of them are very surprised at your outburst, knowing how you normally ignore passes like that to you. You don't know it yet, but you've now incited Johnny and Kyle into riling you up. John and Simon chuckle to themselves, enjoying your display of temper. All four are wondering how it is like to be with you, anticipating when they will get to see more of you out of your shell. If this is just one shard that came out, they can't wait to see more.

~~~

I feel kinda embarrassed because I've actually never written a fic or drabble before

#poly 141 x reader #poly 141 #tf 141 x reader #cod mw x reader #kyle gaz garrick #john soap mactavish #john price #simon ghost riley

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sassylegshayne · 8 months

Text

buff baby

hi hello I'm finally gonna start talking ab dad!Shayne!!! this man has me in such a chokehold and the thought of him with a mini him makes me want to explode. idk if I'm gonna make this a series or anything, but I'll probably be posting more dad!Shayne soon 🫣 I hope y'all enjoy and lmk what you think!! mwah xo lees

1.1k words!

masterlist

Standing silently in your bathroom, staring down at trio of positive tests, an idea popped into your mind.

Your smile spread wider as you wrapped your arms around yourself, the smell of your boyfriend still lingering on the sweater of his that draped off of your shoulders. It felt like your heart was about to beat out of your chest, your stomach filled with butterflies.

You glance to your phone, realizing Shayne would be home shortly, shocking you back into reality. You're quick to shove the tests back into their box, and then shove that box far, far into the back of your dresser drawer.

For the first time ever, you're really hopeful Shayne doesn't try and keep up with the laundry.

"Honey, I'm home!" Shayne called out playfully, wandering through the front door, setting your nerves on fire.

You jump a bit as he bursts through the doorway to your bedroom, quickly grabbing your waist and pulling you into him. You can't help but laugh, letting your head rest against his chest as he holds you tightly, pressinga soft, chaste kiss to your forehead.

"Hey, baby." He began, the nickname that normally comforted you now had your heart in your throat as you look to him with raised brows.

"I love you, this is really nice and don't wanna nterrupt it, but I might shit myself if don't." You couldn't hold back a small groan as you roll your eyes, shoving him away playfully as he chuckled, a grin on his face. Shayne grabbed at your hands, quickly pulling you back to press a peck to your lips before heading into your bathroom.

You couldn't help but laugh softly at the thought on your mind- that's the father of your child.

"Might wanna light a candle, I'm sorry!" Shayne called out, laughing.

"I can't be the dad because that baby has one blue eye and one brown eye, just like her ex!" Shayne yelled out, slamming the card on to the the tabletop as everyone cheered him on.

"And another thing," He continued through laughter as you gave him a faux shocked look. "She just wants me to be the father because I'm a YouTube celebrity!"

"Are you gonna take that, Y/N?" Angela called to you, perched on the edge of her seat as your group was nearing the end of the game.

"Fine, I didn't wanna do this to you, Shayne, but..." You laid down your card slowly, keeping your eyes on the man sat across from you as the room grew quiet. "The lie detector test determined that is a lie."

Shayne gasped, placing his hand to his chest before moving his popularity down on the board, the final blow of the game.

"Okay, and with that, we are ready to look at our test results, so if everyone would pass their packets to the person on their right." lan called out, Shayne leaning forward to hand you his as you passed yours off to Angela.

You slowly went around the group, everyone exaggerating their relief at not being the father. You tangled your fingers with Shayne's, gripping his hand tightly as Angela pulled your card.

"Y/N.. you are... not the father!" She squealed out, hugging you quickly as you grabbed Shayne's packet from your lap.

"Shayne.. I think we know how this is gonna end.." You began, laughing softly as you glance around, everyone else ending with the same result as you.

He nodded solemnly, taking a deep breath as he sat back in the seat. "I'm ready..."

You tried your best to hide your shakey hands as you pull out the card, the bright red box staring back at you.

"Shayne, you are going to be a father!" You called out, Shayne immediately jumping from his seat. He began storming off set quickly in a fit of exaggerated yelling and anger.

"Wait, what?!" Angela screamed out, her eyes wide as she registered your words.

"Did you say...?" lan began, the grin on his face was unmistakable as everyone began piecing it together, while Brennan was still following your boyfriend on his faux rampage.

You feel arms wrap around you tightly as Courtney and Angela begin to congratulate you, your cheeks blushed brightly as Shayne's yelling can be heard from off set.

Shayne chuckled as he cut the bit, turning to the camera behind him, the man behind it giving him a confused look.

"Did.. did you hear her?" Brennan asked, his brows furrowed— Shayne was way too calm to know what was happening.

"Yeah, I.. oh, fuck!" The brunette spoke, his blue eyes wide as he finally processed your words, sprinting back through the doors just as quickly as he left.

You barely have time to register his return before you're swept off your feet, finding yourself in a fit of laughter as you cling to Shayne's biceps.

Shayne felt like his face was about to split with just how big his grin was. He couldn't help but pull you closer, peppering your face with kisses before finally setting you back on your feet.

"You're serious, right?" Shayne finally asks, a bit out of breath from all of his screaming and running, his eyes searching your face as his hands gently cupped your cheeks.

"Yes, I'm completely serious!" You speak, barely able to contain your laughter as Shayne wraps his arms around you again, squeezing you gently against him.

You quickly slip from his grip, earning a pout as you grab your bag from off set, procuring the box of tests.

Shayne's hands began to shake as you brought the tests to him, the proof now sitting in his hand has a second wave of realization rushing over him.

He's quick to wrap you into his arms again, whispering his gratitude and love for you. You look up to him, his blue eyes brimming with tears as he presses a soft kiss to your lips.

You sniffle, tearing up a bit yourself as you reach up, wiping Shayne's cheeks as he laughs softly.

"Holy shit, that's a much more dramatic ending than expected.." lan laughed as he wrapped his arms around the two of you, squeezing you gently as he offered his congratulations.

"I can't wait for us to start making baby merch!" Spencer called from off camera, another fit of laughter erupting.

"Smosh's first baby!" Angela gasped, clutching her heart as her and Courtney coo'ed at the idea. The love, warmth and excitement in the room was better than you could've imagined.

"Well, uh, thanks for watching.." Shayne chuckled awkwardly, running a hand through his hair as the other stayed wrapped around your waist, holding you close to his side.

"You guys are gonna have a buff ass baby." Arasha mumbled, her eyes a bit wide at the idea as you chuckled, giving the camera a small wave.

#so soft so warm so fuzzy #i love fluff if yall cant tell #anyways pls lmk what yall think 🫶🫣#smosh #mine #shayne #shayne topp imagine #shayne topp x reader #smosh games #shayne topp #Shayne topp au #smosh au #dad!shayne #smosh imagine #smosh x reader

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suzukiblu · 9 months

Text

excerpt from an in-progress "the Core Four gets a clonebaby and it's not even Tim's fault" fic

Kon has a bruise on his face and is bleeding from the mouth and has a four year-old sitting on his hip all wrapped up in his studded leather jacket. Tim finds seeing him bleeding more concerning than the sight of the kid, because while Kon isn't necessarily the first choice to comfort the traumatized civilians, he's done it plenty of times and he'll no doubt do it plenty more.

Also, like, the whole street is on fire. What, is he gonna put the kid down?

The kid is barefoot and wearing a white bodysuit, it looks like. They have pale skin and fluffy black chin-length hair and huge hazel eyes–a hazel that's practically yellow in the light of the burning street, it's so bright–and they're small and slender, but also surprisingly muscular for their age.

And surprisingly alert, Tim can't help but notice. Their eyes are subtly darting around, hypervigilant to a fault, and they're visibly just clocking things. They've already threat-assessed him, Cassie, and Bart, and they're obviously watching out for anyone else and simultaneously keeping an eye on the guttering flames and broken ground and surrounding street in general.

The bad guys left out here are technically all down and thoroughly zip-tied into submission, but the kid assesses them all too, one by one.

Tim gets a weird itch in the back of his brain, and Kon brings the kid over to the rest of them.

Their eyes aren't hazel, Tim realizes. They actually are yellow.

A very specific, familiar yellow.

"What's with the kid?" Bart asks, narrowing his very specific, familiar eyes curiously. "Like, why are you bringing the kid, I mean, not 'why does the kid exist?' That's a different question, obviously, like really why do any of us–"

"They're ours," Kon says.

Bart stops talking.

"Um?" he says.

"What do you mean they're 'ours'?" Cassie says.

"Show 'em that thing you showed me, kiddo?" Kon asks the kid, patting their back. They nod solemnly. Then they vibrate into a blur that phases right through Kon's arms, leather jacket and all. Kon makes no effort to catch them, apparently because he knows it's unnecessary, because a second later the kid is floating up into the air over all their heads.

Tim blinks, very slowly. Tilts his head.

Kon wiggles his fingers at the kid, who noises very quietly and reaches down to grab at his hand. Kon grins up at them and holds his arms open, and the kid settles back into them . . . not warily, exactly? But very definitely uncertainly. Like it's something unfamiliar.

Not like Kon is unfamiliar. Like being held is unfamiliar.

"Okay, huh," Bart says. "Well that sure was the Speed Force."

"And that sure is a Greek demigod," Cassie says.

"Sure is," Kon says agreeably. "And I'll give you two guesses as to where the attached unenhanced human DNA came from, Boy Wonder."

"Kon, what the hell?" Tim says in bemusement. "What even . . . what, exactly?"

"Remember that weird green light earlier?" Kon asks conversationally as he pets the kid's back. "The one that just kinda flashed all up in your respective businesses while I was inside punching asshole scientists after the comms got fried?"

"Yes," Tim replies warily. "I assumed it was supposed to be some kind of distraction."

"It was a DNA scanner," Kon says.

"Ah," Tim says, and wonders how the hell he's going to explain this to Bruce.

"Apparently, these shits decided the best way to handle invading superheroes was to just copy their DNA and then make speed-gro clones who could counteract their abilities," Kon says, jerking his head back towards the TTK-ruined remains of the lab. "With, obviously, a healthy side of brainwashing and indoctrination programming uploaded directly into their developing brains. But literally everyone and their mother underestimates the range of TTK, so I kinda just broke the lab and now, welllll . . ."

"So the kid is a Greek demigod with a Speed Force connection and a Bat-brain?" Cassie asks.

"Apparently," Kon says, nuzzling the kid's ridiculously floofy black hair. "Sorry, kiddo, I'd have given you TTK if I'd gotten the option, but we made the fatal error that is splitting the party. Then again, now you won't wanna puke if you ever run into kryptonite, so could be worse? And also you not getting TTK meant I was on deck to save you from getting grown into a teenage superweapon, so that was probably worth it, right? Like, not that we wouldn't have let you join the team in that case, but clone to clone, I hear actual childhoods are kinda cool and all."

Well, Tim thinks it's safe to make some assumptions about why Kon said "they're ours" and not "they're yours".

"Huh," Cassie says, looking bemused.

". . . honestly I just can't believe this isn't Rob's fault," Bart says, darting over to peer more closely at the kid, who frowns at him.

"I'm not that bad," Tim protests reflexively. The others all give him pitying looks. "Don't look at me like that, I'm not!"

"Yes you are," Cassie says dryly, then steps in closer towards Kon and the kid too and smiles at them. "Hey there, little guy. What's your name?"

The kid stares blankly at her, then curls up tighter in Kon's jacket–and, probably not incidentally, his arms–and presses in closer against him.

"No," they say. Cassie blinks.

"'No'?" she repeats in confusion.

"Babe, they're five minutes out of the cloning tube," Kon says wryly. "They don't have a name."

". . . we should fix that," Cassie says. "Like. Immediately, let's fix that."

"Yeah, I'm on board with that," Kon agrees. "Any suggestions?"

"Are you a boy or a girl?" Tim asks the kid, because at this age it's hard to tell. He's assuming boy, since two male gene donors to one female, but who knows, really.

"I'm a clone," the kid says, looking at him like they think he's stupid.

"Gender-neutral name it is," Kon says, clearly unconcerned by that very concerning response.

"Max?" Bart offers immediately and unsurprisingly, visibly perking up. Which, well–not the worst name for a speedster anyway, Tim supposes.

"Blake," Cassie suggests. "Avery, Channing, Charlie, Aubrey, Kirby, Morgan, Sage, Shiloh–"

"You're hanging out with Cissie a lot again, huh," Bart observes.

"Like you're not?" Cassie huffs, tweaking his nose before continuing with: "Ash, Casey, Jo, Sam, Maddox . . ."

"Alex?" Tim tries, mostly because Cassie's offering a lot of unusual-sounding options and that might not be ideal.

Bart and Cassie eye him. Kon raises an eyebrow in a very Luthor-esque fashion.

Tim experiences the five stages of grief and quickly moves on.

"Uh, or Jace," he says. "Or . . . Harley?"

Wait, those are terrible too.

"No," the kid says, frowning at all of them.

"None of those sound good?" Kon asks them. The kid's frown deepens and they press closer against him, still eyeing the rest of them just a little bit sullenly.

"I don't want one of their names," they say with obvious distaste, and also much clearer annunciation than a typical four year-old would have. "I want one from you."

"Oh," Kon says, blinking a couple times. "Yeah, okay, kiddo. Um . . . you sure?"

"Yes," the kid says.

"Okay," Kon says, and tightens his grip on them a little. And then, surprisingly quickly–"Kenley Elliot. And we can hash out your last name later, that's gonna have to be a later thing. How's that sound? You want it?"

"Yes," the kid repeats, and then throws their arms around Kon's neck and squeezes. It looks a bit closer to a chokehold than a hug, but Kon a) is a half-Kryptonian clone, and b) clearly doesn't care.

"Cool," he says, and swallows a little roughly. "Okay, well, that's squared away. Let's get the fuck out of here before some asshole with a badge tries to take custody of Kenley."

Tim did not miss the "Kent" and "El" concealed in either of those names, or how quickly Kon had them to hand. Not as quick as Bart had "Max", obviously, but . . .

Very quickly, all the same.

Alright, then.

#superboy #dc robin #wonder girl #dc impulse #young justice #rinfic #long post #wip: yj accidental baby acquisition

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handmade-witch · 3 months

Text

part 6 of Slytherin Boys x Incorrect Quotes~~

Part 1 ☆ Part 2 ☆ Part 3 ☆ Part 4 ☆ Part 5

Draco: Am I right, Mattheo?

Mattheo: I’m almost certain you’re not, but to be fair, I wasn’t listening.

☆☆☆

Mattheo: I’d kill someone if you asked me to.

[Y/N]: I’m pretty sure you’d kill someone even if I didn’t ask you to.

☆☆☆

Theodore: Can I ask you for a favor?

[Y/N]: I would literally die for you, but continue.

Theodore: We need to talk about you starting sentences that way.

☆☆☆

Mattheo: Is something burning?

Lorenzo, leaning seductively on the counter: Just my desire for you.

Mattheo: Lorenzo, the toaster is literally on fire.

☆☆☆

Lorenzo: Are you okay?

[Y/N], crying: Yeah, it was just the onions.

Lorenzo: *Picks up an onion* What the fuck did you say to [Y/N]?

☆☆☆

[Y/N]: I’m sad.

Lorenzo: Don’t be sad, because sad backwards is das.

Lorenzo: And das not good.

☆☆☆

Blaise: You know you can die from that, right?

Theodore: *smoking a cigarette* That’s the point.

Mattheo: *drinking alcohol* We’re trying to speed this up.

[Y/N] and Lorenzo: *Eating raw cookie dough and nodding*

☆☆☆

Kidnapper: We have your child

[Y/N]: I don’t have a child?

Kidnapper: Then who just asked for warm milk and made us cut the crusts off their sandwich?

[Y/N]: Oh god, you have Draco

☆☆☆

Theodore: Where are you going?

[Y/N]: To get MYSELF a gift cause somebody didn't get me one!

Theodore: I told you I did! Its coming here on Friday!

Mattheo, knowing full well that Theodore got [Y/N] an engagement ring: *eating popcorn*

☆☆☆

[Y/N]: I made this friendship bracelet for you.

Mattheo: You know, I’m not really a jewelry person.

[Y/N]: You don’t have to wear…

Mattheo: No, I’m gonna wear it forever. Back off.

☆☆☆

Theodore: Hey Blaise, do you wanna help us?

Blaise: Oh, I would... but I don’t want to.

☆☆☆

Theodore: This can’t get any worse. Can it?

Mattheo: Sure it can - just give me a minute.

☆☆☆

Mattheo: I am the most responsible person in the group.

Blaise: …You just set the kitchen on fire.

Mattheo: Yes, and I take full responsibility for that.

☆☆☆

[Y/N]: We need to open this locked door. Blaise, give me your credit card.

Blaise: Here.

[Y/N], pocketing it: Thanks. Mattheo, break down the door.

☆☆☆

[Y/N]: We all have our demons.

[Y/N], grabbing Mattheo: This one’s mine.

☆☆☆

Mattheo: This date is boring!

[Y/N]: This isn't a date. I said I was going to the store.

Mattheo: Then why did you invite me?

[Y/N]: I didnt, I specifically said "don't come with me," then you said, "fuck you [Y/N] I'll do whatever I want!

☆☆☆

[Y/N]: Why are you following me?

Theodore: Because we're dating now.

[Y/N]: Okay... what about Mattheo?

Theodore: We're a package deal.

Mattheo: Buy one idiot, get one free.

☆☆☆

Mattheo: *sneaking in through their window*

Lorenzo: *turning in their chair and flicking the light one* You want to tell me where you've been all night?

Mattheo: I was with Theodore?

Theodore: *turning in their chair* Wanna try again?

☆☆☆

Mattheo: All in all, a 100% successful trip.

[Y/N]: But we lost Draco.

Mattheo: All in all, a 100% successful trip!

#slytherin boys #lorenzo berkshire #theodore nott #blaise zabini #draco malfoy #harry potter universe #matteo riddle #lorenzo berkshire x reader #theodore nott x reader #mattheo riddle x reader #incorrect quotes

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zablife · 1 year

Note

This look he has just reeks of touch my wife one more time and I'll raise hell. Or reader is shy (and married to Tommy) and is trying not to be rude + moving to stop the touches on her arm. Tommy sees if they keep doing it before he intervenes

Tommy watching you do just anything at home

John pretending to read but watching you tell a someone off. Also him waiting to see if the guy does something

Sorry 😅idk what to do with myself

Tysm for the ask, darl! I love all of these amazing ideas! Protective Tommy makes me feral and that look in the 2nd GIF is pure sunshine. However, I've written loads of Tommy requests recently so I'll show John some love.

Place Your Bets

"You there!" a mean looking drunk shouted over the din of the betting shop. You didn't bother looking up from your desk as you concentrated on taking a customer's bet over the telephone.

Undeterred, the man slowly clomped toward you, swaying as he walked. He approached wreaking of whisky and body odor and you hung up as quickly as possible to shoo him away. Rising from the desk you motioned to the back of the queue, closer to the doors where the stench would be carried away with the breeze. "You'll have to wait your turn," you informed him tersely.

"I know you," he said with a sneer, showing off a row of rotten, yellow teeth. "You was the lass who took my bet last week."

You turned away, unsure how the poor sod had placed his bet and not caring in the slightest.

"I'm talking to you!" he shouted and you turned with fire dancing in your eyes as he dared to continue. "You gave me that rubbish tip about Monaghan Boy!" he said, wiping his nose on the back of his sleeve.

"Gonna let your missus handle that one?" a secretary asked as she passed John's desk.

John lowered his paper as he shrugged, "Why not? She can take care of herself better than half the men here," he said, voice swelling with pride. He grinned to himself as he thought of all the times you'd bested him in an argument and counted himself lucky someone else was on the receiving end of your temper for once.

"He must have been off his tits! Came in dead last," the man grumbled to you.

"You'd know something about that, eh?" you countered, snickering as you pushed past him to gather a few papers.

"What did you say to me?," the man asked, puffing out his chest.

"Oh, God, this is going to be good," John said with a slight giggle. He could tell by your folded arms and the way your foot began to tap rapidly against the floorboards you were properly angry now.

You whipped around, annunciating your words as if he were a complete idiot, because he was. "I said you're a fucking drunk who made a shit bet so don't come in here and throw a wobbler like a bloody child!"

Sitting back to watch the drama unfold from behind his paper, John snickered as he listened to you give the man a tongue lashing. The man retaliated calling you a cunt.

John sucked in a breath. "Ooh, I wouldn't call her that, mate!" John commented to no one in particular, shaking his head. He kicked his feet off the desk and leaned forward slightly to see how you would return the insult.

You wagged a finger in the man's face, half his size, but berating him as though you were equally matched. "Call me that once more and I'll cut ya, ya filthy animal! Don't fuck with me!"

That's when John saw the man reach out to grab you by the arm and he was on his feet in seconds, pounding the floorboards menacingly. He pinned the man to the wall, narrowing his eyes at the bastard who dared lay a hand on you, asking, "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" The man could only gurgle in response as John held him by the throat.

You brushed your sleeve, noting the dirt he'd left behind with a frown before collecting yourself and lightly placing a hand on John's shoulder. He turned to look at you, eyes softening, but grip remaining firm.

"Can I borrow your blade, darling? Left mine in me other skirt," you said, voice as thick and sweet as honey.

"Of course, love," he said, handing it over with a quick kiss.

"Wait, wh-what's sh-she going to do with that?" the man stuttered, too afraid to move.

"Cut your balls off, I reckon," John replied. Breaking out into a shit eating grin, he reached up to smack the man on the cheek a couple of times. Then he pulled back to take in the look of horror as he snorted, "Nah, just take your eyes. She's a blinder after all and she did warn ya not to fuck with her."

#zablife ask box #Peaky Blinders fanfic #Peaky Blinders imagine #John Shelby #John Shelby fanfic #John Shelby imagine #John Shelby x you #John Shelby x y/n #John Shelby x reader

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sweatervest-obsessed · 3 months

Text

Lucky Me

A/N: Complete and utter fluff. Just a cozy scenario where the reader is a wee bit drunk, and has a phenomenal idea, maybe inspired by a true story or two.

(Gn!Reader)

WC: maybe 500

"Literally anytime you start a sentence with the phrase Hear Me Out, it makes me not listen to you even more. Especially since the last time you tried to burn a building down--"

You rolled your eyes. "Excuse you: A, Arson is a respectable profession. B, I didn't try, it was an accident and you know it. Plus!" You cut Spencer off before he could continue to shoot down your hopes and dreams. "Plus! This time, my idea doesn't involve cooking, or fire, or a stovetop at all. I swear."

"You're drunk."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"You always get ideas that put my job at risk and make me question my livelihood when you drink tequila."

"That's because some of us know how to have fun." You grumbled, looking away from the man in front of you.

"What was that?"

"Nothing." You sighed and leaned against the bar, looking out across the sea of faces.

Spencer's leg bounced exactly three times before he rolled his eyes and conceded. "Fine. I'll at least hear you out but that's it---"

He couldn't finish the sentence since you had grabbed his hand and started to drag him through the crowd to get to the door. You were on a mission, and shoving a bitch out of your way was your top priority. It also meant you were deaf to any and all hesitations, comments, and concerns from a certain doctor being dragged through a bar.

Eventually, you made it out into the fresh air, and gulped it down, like a man starved. Spencer watched you curiously, trying to figure out what your plan seemed to be here.

"So..."

You looked over at him. "Ready to hear my idea?"

"Now that you've decided to freeze me alive in the winter, sure."

"Don't be such a baby Reid god. No. My idea has two parts to it and we just completed the first one."

"Leave?"

You nodded. "It was way too loud in there. I couldn't fucking think."

Spencer smiled a bit, knowing that partially, even when you were drunk, you did things for him. He knew you have been in bars drunker than you are now, that have been at record decibels.

"Aren't you gonna ask me what part two is?"

"Why, Y/n? What is part two of this idea."

"I think we should go home and not be at the bar anymore."

Reid paused for all of four seconds before nodding. "Wow, that's the best idea you've had all day, maybe even all week."

"Hey! Watch it. I may not be some fancy schmancy FBI agent, but I'm frienbds with all of them and I am sleeping with you. I could tell them some shit--"

Spencer just very casually put his hand on your back and kissed your cheek. "And then I could tell them all of the embarrassing things about you."

You gasped and clutched your hypothetical pearls. "Spencer Reid you wouldn't dare."

He shrugged and started to guide you in the direction of where you had parked the car . "Maybe I will, Maybe I won't.''

You threw your hands up in the air, but moved in the direction Spencer guided you.

"First you wouldn't let me pursue my passion of Arson, and now this!"

"You are going to be the death of me."

You winked at him, smiling the entire time. "Lucky you."

"Yeah." Spencer smiled back, eyes a bit softer and his heart felt like it was beating out of his chest, like one of those old Roadrunner cartoons. "Lucky me."

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sunoofairyofsass · 4 months

Text

M-Mr Park?

Synopsis: Jungwon had been babysitting Jay's daughter for almost a year and has had a huge crush on him for almost forever,but he thinks nothing will come of it because of their big age gap.But it all changes when Jay comes to "talk" to him in the kitchen.

Pairing:Dom top Dilf Jay x Sub bottom Babysitter Jungwon

Warning:Love confession,dry humping,cream pie, manhandling?,no prep, unprotected,rough

(You hoes have spoken and decided that this would come first.This took longer than expected holy shit-)(not proof read)

----------------------------------------------------------

The running water from the tap was the most prominent sound in the kitchen as were the plates and utensils clashing with each other.It had been a long day of babysitting for Jungwon,the child,who was usually an angel,was more energetic today,meaning that it was a bit more difficult than usual to put her to sleep,but the boy didn't mind it too much as he adored that little girl.

Jungwon had already organized the toys that were on the couch and other kid's activities while stepping on a few Lego pieces.All that was left were the dishes and he could go off to his shitty apartment.

"Jungwon you're still here?"A voice asked the boy,scaring him shirtless.Jungwon turned to the kitchen door to find Jay,the father of the child, standing right there "Jesus Mr.Park you startled me"the younger exasperated,clenching his sweater over his chest,which gave the other a good chuckle.

The older man walked towards him "Did I scare you?"Jay laughed,settling himself next to the babysitter "You know you don't have to clean the dishes right?"he reminded the younger,smiling softly.Jungwon chuckled softly as he finished cleaning the last cup and put it on the drying rack "I know I know"he retorted "But I know that it sucks when you come back home tired and have stuff to clean"the young man explained.

"You're too sweet"Jay chuckled.Jungwon felt warmth creeping up his cheeks "T-Thanks Mr.Park"he stuttered,averting his gaze with his sudden shyness.It was true that the younger had a crush on him,but how could a relationship seemed him even be possible?Jungwon was 21 and Jay turned 30 not too long ago.

Jungwon suddenly felt a pair of hands wrapped around his waist,he quickly turned around only to come face to face with Jay.Gosh,how long has he been distracted by his own fantasies?That didn't matter now,what did matter was the sentence the older would utter.

"Jungwon,I have something to tell you"Jay whispered in the younger's ear,making Jingwon shudder when the hot breath hit his neck.The babysitter put both his hands on the older's chest in a pathetic attempt to create distance between them,all though his heart had other plans.

"M-Mr.Park-"Jungwon tried to speak, obviously flustered by the other's sudden advances,only to be quickly shut off but Jay grabbed his chin lightly and lifted it up to make eye contact.The babysitter could have completely shut down right then and there.

Was he gonna get fired?Did he do something wrong?Jungwon was just being praised by him- "I'm in love with you"Jay stated bluntly,looking at the younger with soft eyes.The younger's breath hitched, his heart started to pound against his chest,his mouth went completely dry "He said what?"Jungwon thought.

Jay waited for a response,not taking his soft gaze from him,still holding his waist.Jungwon didn't know how he would respond to that,so he did the only logical he could think of.The babysitter grabbed the older's face and pulled for a kiss, despite knowing that he was a terrible kisser.

When Jungwon pulled away,he stared into the older's face to his reaction,but all Jay had was a blank expression. "Oh shit I'm about to be fired"Jungwon thought as he started to get worried about the other's unresponsiveness."M-Mr.Park I'm so sorry I-I'll go-"the younger man tried to speak,only to be shut off again by Jay gently yet firmly gripping his jaw.

"Is that what you call a kiss?"Jay sassed him before pulling Jungwon closer,their chests pressing against each other,nearly closing the gap between faces "Let me show you what a real kiss is~"the older whispered,pressing his lips against Jungwon's.

Jungwon's breath hitched "Am I dreaming?"he thought,however,slowly but surely,he melted into the kiss,wrapping his arms around Jay's neck.The younger just followed the other's lead as he was more experienced then him,but the truth that Jungwon was just letting Jay take complete control over the kiss.

When Jay finally pulled away,he cupped the younger's face between his palms.Jungwon was officially drunk,his cheeks were red and he looked at the other with bedroom eyes.With no warning,Jay lifted Jungwon by his thighs and sat him on the counter before resuming their kiss.

Jungwon hummed into the kiss,it felt warm,soft,such a comforting feeling that made his whole body flare up into flames.Jay's kiss was gentle but passionate,moving them as he poured all of his bottled up feelings for the younger in this one gesture.

But it had a sudden stop when Jungwon moved his hips forward,moaning lowly at the unexpected friction.He immediately pulled away,his face glowing red from embarrassment "I'm so sorry Mr.Park-"the younger apologized profusely,only to be interrupted by Jay pressing their hips together and dipping his head on his neck "Don't apologize."he firmly stated,gripping the babysitter's waist "Keep going,it felt good~"the older admitted.

With a new found confidence,Jungwon repeated the motion,moaning quietly at the sparks of pleasure,feeling his cock stir around his jeans.Jay's hands stood firmly onto the other's hips, groaning lowly at his ministrations.Both got hard fairly quickly,Jungwon being shocked at the older's big size.

As time went on, Jungwon's moans became more shameless every time their hips met,it was like lightning struck his body when Jay's body even grazed his own.Sweat started forming on his forehead head,making his bangs stick to the wet skin,his aching boner begged for release from the confines of his pants.Every touch,every sensation felt overwhelming in the best way possible.

But Jay had enough of the slow pace,he picked Jungwon up once again, eliciting a gap from him as he wrapped his legs around his waist,and laid him on his back on the kitchen island."Jungwon...I can't hold it anymore..."the older exasperated before pulling the babysitter to a more passionate and hot kiss.

The younger's hands latched onto Jay's back,gripping it with all the force he could as he tried to keep up with the heated embrace.Jungwon could feel the other's hand fiddling with the zipper of his pants,he of course helped with that,never breaking the kiss.He unzipped his jeans and slid them down to his ankles along with his boxers, finally setting free his erection.

Jay groaned at the sight, doing the same thing to his own pants.Jungwon gasped at the sight of the other's long cock,breaking the kiss "Mr.Park I don't think it'll fit..."he whined,killing a small part of the older's soul, nonetheless,Jay stroked the younger's cheek "Don't worry,I'll be gentle"he reassured the other "Oh,and you can call me Jay"the man added.

Boy was that misleading,Jay didn't even prep Jungwon before trying to slide his cock inside him.The shorter gasped and arched his back from the pain "It hurts...keep going"the babysitter whimpered.The older took it as a sign to continue,using his fingers to hold his hole open, meanwhile Jungwon was close to losing his composure,moaning and groaning at the strange feeling.

"Fuck it's so tight"Jay groaned,he was starting to get impatient and just wanted to make the other feel good already.Jungwon all of the sudden grabbed the older's hips and slammed it all inside, eliciting a loud,slutty moan from the pleasurable pain "Ah!- Just do it already Jay!~"he begged,giving the biggest doe eyes he could muster up.

Something snapped in Jay,he started slamming his huge cock inside Jungwon with no warning,both completely losing the sense of composure.The younger gripped the other's biceps as his prostate was abused,giving him sparks of pleasure on his body, unholy sounds getting punched out of him.

Jungwon's back arched against the island,his eyes rolled to the back of his skull,his whole body shook in ecstasy,he was on cloud nine of sensations.His entire body was sweating as he was leaking pre cum all over his black sweater.The younger could feel the other's cock throbbing inside him,meaning he was so close.

"Jay!- Jay!- Jay I'm gonna cum!~"Jungwon screamed in pleasure,feeling a familiar knot in his stomach."I'm also close"Jay told him between grunts "I'm gonna pull out"he added as he started to do just that,but the younger stopped him with a loud whine "No~ please cream pie me Jay~"the babysitter moaned "I want you to fill me up~"he whined.

The older grinned at the younger,he knew Jungwon wasn't innocent but he also didn't expect him to be this...filthy.Jay quickly slid it back into his hole, slamming as hard as he could since the other enjoyed it so much "Hm!~ S-so good!~"the babysitter gasped,before getting cut off by himself arching his back and moaning Jay's name as he orgasmed,cum coming out in spurts all over his sweater.

He looked so pretty from Jay's point of view,cum staining his sweater,his hair all dishevelled and his face all red and puffy.That made him climax almost immediately,filling Jungwon up with hot semen,just like he wanted.The taller collapsed on top of the younger,wrapping his arms around him and whispering sweet nothings.

Jungwon was so exhausted,he never thought his wishes would come true,what it would mean for their relationship would be a problem for the future,right now he just wanted cuddles from the older."You made me feel so good~"Jungwon sighed,making Jay smile softly and give him a peck on the lips."I'm glad you felt good~"the older responded.

Jay lifted himself so he could meet Jungwon at eye level,still giving him that soft smile.

"Jungwon,do you wanna spend the night here?"

#kpop #idol smut #idol x idol #jay enhypen #sub jungwon #yang jungwon #enhypen smut #enhypen #jaywon #jay x Jungwon #jay park #kpop smut #kpop ships #Jungwon

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